Ch 12: Broken

Alice.

I covered my head with my arms, squeezing tightly, trying to block the sounds that echo around me. There is no escape. I cannot move. The stench of blood and urine are thick in the hot, sticky air. There is no circulation, it is stifling.

I am numb. My legs that are folded beneath me I can not feel but I knew they were there. The floor I am on is cold and I know it is made of stone even though I cannot see it. The pebbles cut into my legs. I could feel the stones scratching at me yet I feel nothing.

I cannot cry; tears elude me. There are others here though I myself am alone. Often, I hear them screaming, though when I move my own mouth there is no sound. Sometimes I can hear footsteps before the wailing begins; sometimes there are no footsteps at all. It does not matter that I cannot see in the pitch of black that holds me; I know I am in the dungeon.

All around me, the low moans and silent cries become white noise. It seems like hours pass. Not even the bloodcurdling screeching registers any more. It all becomes surreal. This is my prison. This is my fate. It belongs to me.

Deep inside, I know I should embrace my destiny, but I am unwilling to commit. My mind is holding out. It’s not time. How I know anything of time, I do not know. It’s a feeling. I just know and I can’t explain. While there is reason left in my maddening mind, I will wait. My mind will give in and soon my time will come.

I sit huddled in the darkness, alone, cold.

Light floods the room.

“Alice! Alice!” someone is shouting at me but I am blinded by the brightness. From the dark to the light, still I cannot see.

My body is being shaken and suddenly I am aware. Still suspended in my dream state, half of my mind trapped in darkness, the other half paralyzed in bright light.

Dad was sitting on the bed over me, his hands on my shoulders as he held me in a sitting position. I could see the panicked look on his face and I knew it happened again. Through the haze, I hear him saying my name over and over, not yelling now. He knows I am on my way back to him.

Dad pulls me to his chest rocking me gently, back and forth. Before long, I am cradled in his lap and I am sobbing. Drenched in sweat and the tears that were lost to me in the dark prison, I shiver. He held me like that for a good while, rocking me and telling me how much he loves me, stroking my hair and comforting me.

When I felt I had the energy to raise my head, I really wish I hadn’t. The pain on my father’s face was unbearable. I hate that I cause him this pain. It sends me in to a whole new bout of tears and I buried my face in his chest. I still cannot speak and he knows this. He is so patient and good to me. He has had lots of practice with this, more than any parent should.

I closed my eyes and let him comfort me, his soft voice and his warm embrace soothing. Almost asleep again, I felt him settle me back on to my pillow and I let him. I am too drained to open my eyes. It will be alright now. It has passed and I will rest.

Greg.

It was after four in the morning and there was no point in trying to go back to sleep so I went to make coffee.

For the last few years I have questioned what I did to deserve all that has come to be. First my wife, and now I’m slowly losing my daughter to something I don’t understand. I leaned forward with my elbows resting on the counter; head in my hands. I must have closed my eyes and dozed off standing up. I jumped when the coffee maker beeped alerting me the carafe was full.

Coffee in hand, I headed to my office. Setting the mug on my desk, I turned to the opposite wall, eyeing the painting that hung there. I remember when she bought it for me. I ran my finger along textured grooves of the frame.

The painting was of two lovers lying in a field of flowers. Their bodies did not touch but the connection between them was impossible not to see. Even though the painting wasn’t my style I had to admit the artist did an amazing job. The way the last light of the twilight reflected off of every wildflower in the field was intricately detailed. The artist positioned the man on his back with his head twisted to meet the gaze of his love who lay languidly beside him, her face turned to meet his.

The saddest part of this lover’s tale is I understood it, perhaps a bit too well. Robbed of the touch of my lover in this life, the connection lives on; the feelings stay true. Even in death, the love remains.

Sighing, I slid the painting up the wall; it moved smoothly on its tracks. I punched the code into the digital lock and pulling the small handle, the safe popped open. I pulled out the pale blue expandable folder and unwinding the cord tie, retrieved the most recent journal.

I quickly scrawled the information that need to be logged. Date, time I discovered her to the time it ended. My daughter had been having horrendous nightmares ever since her mother left. My dear friend, Laurent, happened to be a psychiatrist and he had set up these journals so we could track her progress or in her case, lack thereof.

Alice was stubborn like her mother; I smirked, and she adamantly refused to take medication. I had hoped for the first few years, she would grow out of these night terrors, as they were diagnosed, but as she got older it was undeniably getting worse. Her episodes lasted longer and came more frequently. I don’t know how many she had been through while I was away.

Thinking of all the times I had left her alone sickened me. Alice is so much like her mother. She breaks my heart. She is a good kid but she is too much like her mother. And it pains me look at her. Alice is a living reminder of everything I had lost, and everything I had left.

Unknowingly Alice held all the power. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to make her happy when she looked at me with the eyes of my wife. I know it wasn’t natural; that it wasn’t right. Even so, I couldn’t help it. Alice’s hold over me that was irrefutable.

Last time I spoke to Alice, it was about her attendance in school. She was pulling straight A’s and she was never in trouble for anything but she wasn’t showing up to all her classes. I shuddered as the memories of that night came back, those eyes, her eyes.

Sitting at the dinner table, I knew it was the best time to talk to her about the letter I received in the mail from the school.

Alice,” I waited until her fork stilled over her plate and I knew I had her attention. We rarely spoke at dinner other than to exchange or make plans. “I received a letter today from the attendance office. You are missing a lot of periods.”

“And?” It was her only response.

I looked from the plate of food in front of me to her face. Her eyebrows lifted, challenging me to go on. As her parent, I had no control. I was merely an instrument and she was the conductor. When she stared at me with those sparkling orbs, I was reduced to nothing more than a broken hearted, love sick fool and I would follow in whatever direction she would lead me.

I looked back to my plate pretending to care about the piece of chicken I was cutting. Mustering what courage I could, I quietly mumbled, “You shouldn’t be skipping classes.” I took a bite and chewed, waiting for it. I knew it was coming.

“That’s nice of you,” the edge in her voice was unmistakable as she cooed politely at me. I could feel her eyes boring in to me. I knew if I looked up I would see a spectacular display of golden sparks; the fireworks she inherited from her mother.

“Where are you going when you don’t go to class?” I took a coward’s route, already knowing I had lost.

“Have I ever given you a reason to think I cannot handle my own affairs? Have I done anything to tarnish the perfect image of this family?” She tossed her napkin on the table and stood suddenly, sending her chair sliding backwards. I couldn’t help but make eye contact with her as she snapped at me, clearly offended. The sparks were flying at me and they burned straight to my soul. I could not look away. She had me locked in her gaze, her eyebrows raised and waiting. The determined set of her jaw and the half pout half purse of her lips did me in.

“I didn’t think so. Excuse me.” Her sing song voice was laced with hostility. Squaring her shoulders defensively, she stalked out of the room.

I had never won in a disagreement with my wife. She didn’t ask for much but when she felt strongly about something, all she had to do was look at me a certain way and I would give in. I vowed at our wedding, were I to accomplish only one thing in my life, it would be to provide her with all the happiness in my power. Providing her joy gave my life purpose. She was my life. A copy of our hand written vows was tucked away safely, guarded by the lovers on my office wall.

Alice never needed me. She had grown up fast at a young age, and she took care of herself quite well. The inheritance that I would leave her would insure that she would never want for anything. I know her mother wouldn’t have approved but financial stability was all I had to give.

Every thought I’ve had of my wife since she was taken from me is a dagger shot through my heart. The pain never lessened, I became numb. The night she died I lost my heart.

I slipped the journal back in the folder and secured it shut, sliding it back in the safe. Returning the two star-crossed lovers to their rightful position on the wall, they protected my secrets.

Sitting at my desk, I brought my pc out of sleep mode. Entering my password, I opened my email. Laurent had been pressuring me to bring Alice to him but it was something I couldn’t bring myself to do. He tried to understand my reasoning. I know Alice needs help but I can’t force her to get it. My baby girl had been through enough. As long as she was functioning and doing well I wouldn’t push her.

~

Larent,

It happened again The screaming started just after two and it lasted about two hours. She is resting now. She was the same as always but this one lasted much longer.

I have been gone for three days and this is my first night back. I will be canceling my trip to Chicago. I can’t leave her like this.

I think its time to discuss medication again. Will let you know how that goes.

Wish me luck.

I’ll call you soon.

Greg

~

Sending Laurent an update on Alice was difficult. I knew he was right.

Her first nightmare came about a month after her mom passed. At first they were random and infrequent, once every other month or so. At the time the incidents were mild and the staff I hired to run the house was able to deal with her without much trouble when I was gone. Ms. Larson had moved with us from Spokane. She was a wonderful woman in her 50’s who kept a tidy house and was a wonderful cook.

She lived in the guest cottage behind the house. She was only required to keep the house straight and prepare evening meals and of course be on the grounds the nights I was away. The majority of her time she spent volunteering at the senior center.

Now, Alice’s night terrors came sometimes twice a week. I would waken to her crying or thrashing about noiselessly. I would go to her and sit her up, shaking her gently until she would wake, but even in waking she isn’t really there, just her shell. Her mind always seems torn between realities; she was somewhere else, somewhere away from here and unreachable.

Her eyes always stay glazed over; even though I know she is awake. I know she is aware of my presence because she calms when I hold her.

When she was 14, I could wake her, relax her and have her tucked back in bed in half an hour. Now that process takes much longer. Several times in the last two years I have found her roaming the house in her sleep, just walking from room to room. I would walk her back to bed as if she was a tiny child and she would curl into a ball and fall deeper into sleep.

I wish her mother could be here for her, for me. I am so lost and I don’t know what to do. I am a failure. I failed to protect my wife and now I am failing our daughter too.

I reached to my bottom drawer and slid it open slowly, pulling the silver framed photo out gently. My love, my heart, my soul, I stared in to her brilliant eyes, the flecks of gold speaking to my heart.

“What do I do?” I whispered at the woman trapped in a photo behind the glass. “What do I do?” Even in death she mesmerized me. I held her gaze and my heart swelled until it hurt. When she died every ounce of passion in my soul I sent with her, to comfort her. The lingering traces of the joy that once overflowed from my chest now served as a cruel reminder of what once was. The memories were painful, but it was what I had been left with, that and a daughter who, as she grew older, grew to the likeness of her mother.

I felt tears pooling in my eyes and shamelessly I left them fall. I had become familiar with this pain; it was almost comfortable. As long as I felt the pain it meant I felt something. After I lost my wife, I had felt nothing. It took months to feel anything again.

It wasn’t until the night I heard Alice tell her story that part of me woke up again.

Alice was about to celebrate her 14th birthday and she had a friend, Bella over for the night. I was awake in my room when I heard the girls going down the stairs. Of course, I didn’t want to pry but curiosity got to me when I didn’t hear them return to the second floor.

I quietly slipped down the stairs with no intention of spying; I just wanted to check on them. I didn’t see them in the den but noticed a dim light coming from behind the wet bar. It was the light that came on when the doors were open. My suspicions were confirmed when I found the door ajar. A bottle of rum had been moved, I noted, as label wasn’t in perfect line with the others on the shelf.

This was something I didn’t think I was going to have to deal with as a parent. It made sense that I should have thought about it, I just didn’t. Alice had done great taking care of herself I couldn’t ask for a better kid. She had definitely caught me off guard. I knew I should be angry but the thought of confronting her bothered me. She was so like her mother. We hadn’t discussed sex or relationships and we certainly didn’t talk about alcohol or drugs.

I heard hushed voices coming from the back yard in the direction of the pool. With a determined stride I set out across the room to the sliding doors. Mother’s eyes or not I had to deal with this. Her teenage years were quickly approaching and this behavior was unacceptable. As my hand reached for the handle on the door I heard something that froze me mid air.

I heard her name, the name we never spoke out loud. I suppose I should feel guilty for listening in on my daughter’s private conversation but I couldn’t bring myself to go back upstairs. I’d never heard Alice talk about her mom.

I moved to the kitchen window that was closest to the pool and managed to slide it open a few inches without making a sound. The girls sat on the edge of the pool with their bare feet dangling over the edge. I could see Bella’s face but not Alice’s. The ripples the girls’ feet made in the pool cast reflections of light that danced around the patio.

I knew I should have said something about the alcohol but I never did. I sat there that night and listened to my daughter, the closest connection I will have to my wife, re-create the events of her mother’s death to her friend.

Horror consumed me as she described my behavior the night her mom died. I could hear the hurt in her voice as she recounted to her friend the objects I struck and things I said. She was witness to it all. Everything she had said was true and it hit me hard in the gut. I was never there for her. And, that night, I completely and utterly forgot she was in the room at all. Until hearing her with Bella, it never crossed my mind that Alice actually had been there the night of my demise.

As Alice’s father, I have been one failure after another to her. Sure, I provide everything she needs or could possibly want but ever since I lost her mother, I kept her away from me. I worked out of town right after the accident. Most of my family assumed I had taken time off and most of the office employees thought I was at home. Only my partner and my secretary knew I had flown to Japan and immersed myself in business.

I left my daughter when she needed me the most; it was too difficult to be near her. After a few months had passed, I was able to get a better handle on it but I still, to this day, have vulnerable moments. There were times when she was home from boarding school, I would glance up to see Alice in the right light or angle and for a split second I would see only my wife.

I am only half a man, haunted by my loss in the face of my daughter. My fathering skills leave a lot to be desired. I can only assume Alice gets her strength and courage from her mother because I have offered her none of these things. I am weak and I am a coward.

My daughter and my relationship is a good one despite all this. We think a lot alike so there is never much to discuss when we have to make plans. She is, aside from her attendance, an exemplary student. I provide her with everything a parent should with all the trimmings.

Since she started at Forks High School, Alice assumed control of the house. Mrs. Larson no longer makes the grocery list and meal plan, Alice does. Any affairs of the house Alice deals with. I was happy that she adjusted so well, it eased my conscience as I had taken to traveling more frequently.

A year after Alice’s bad dreams began, I went to my friend Laurent. She It was not long after the episode at the pool and her dreams seemed to be getting worse. I wasn’t be sure so I turned to my long time friend for advice. We had roomed together in college for a few years and really hit it off. He went into medicine and I went my own way but we always stayed in touch through the years. After the death of my high profile wife the last thing I wanted was a tabloid spread of me taking Alice to a psychiatrist.. I knew I could trust Laurent.

I had no idea what to do or how to help Alice. Talking to her was useless. Her sleep habits were a subject she refused to even acknowledge she had a problem with. There had been several attempts on my part over the years to address the situation with her.

Alice had a particularly bad night one night. The next morning when I tried to talk to Alice about it I saw something that bothered me. The sparks in Alice’s eyes flickered. The usually steady stream of brilliance had actually gone dark. Her eyes almost appeared to film over and I saw the blank stare I have seen so many nights in her room. It didn’t last long and seconds later she was back from where ever it was she went.

“There is nothing to talk about. Have a good flight,” she stormed out of the room and the conversation was over.

And that was how our conversations went on the subject. The proverbial door was slammed in my face at every effort. If there was an exit she would use it.

Still clutching the silver frame in one hand I wiped away the tears that wet my face. I caught the reflection of myself in the glass protecting the photo and I cringed. Disgusted, I pushed myself away from the desk and quickly tucked the picture back away in the bottom drawer.

Failure is an ugly look on a man.

I cannot give something I don’t possess. I can not be the parent my daughter needs. I am broken.

She would be up soon and for her sake, I needed to play the part.

I put on my mask and went to refill my coffee mug.


__________________



AN:

Sorry for the wait on the update. I have been so stupid sick. I can’t wait to get better and back on track again. Thanks for being patient with me. Next update in about three days.

You can follow me on Twitter: /thedarksparkles

This was a difficult chapter to write. The perspective is unlike any that I have attempted before. I can only hope my words were able to effectively convey what a broken man Alice’s father is. Devastated by the loss of his wife, he did not recover. He willingly gave up the best parts of him to travel through eternity hand in hand with the spirit of his wife.
As tragically romantic as that may be, he held nothing in reserve for his daughter. Emotionally void himself, he cannot help her. He can only watch as she slips farther and farther away.

Hmmm, wonder where this is going. Stay tuned and keep the reviews coming, I love to hear your thoughts!