reticent

57

• AMALIA •

Archer calls me.

     "Hey, princess." He says as I answer. I'm hiding under my workbench incase my dad comes to find me. "I saw you on the TV?"

     "Yeah?"

     "They were right, you looked gorgeous." He tells me.

     I smile. "Thanks."

     "What are you doing?" He asks me.

     "I'm trying to sort out my greenhouse." I whisper.

     "How's it going?"

     "All right." I answer. "What are you doing?"

"Making Ally food." He tells me.

"Who's that?" I hear her small voice ask.

"It's Amalia." Archer informs her.

I hear her squeal in excitement, "give me your phone!"

He sighs before Ally's voice fills the speaker. "Hi Amalia!"

"Hey. You okay?"

"Yep!" She exclaims. "When will you come for a sleepover?"

My eyes water. "I'm not sure, we'll have to see."

     "We have forever to!" She exclaims.

     I lean my head back, wanting to hang it on the hard glass a thousand times until it shatters my skull.

     "Yep, that's right." I whisper. Archer mustn't have told her yet.

     "Let me talk to her again, Ally."

     Ally tuts. "Fine." She mumbles. "Bye, Amalia!"

     "Bye." I say.

     I hear the phone being switched over to Archer, and I quickly say: "my dad is shouting me. I have to go. But we can talk later, yeah?"

     He's silent for a moment before he says, voice soft: "yeah, okay."

     I end the call.

     Then erupt into more tears.

     I'm not sure how long passes before my dad finds me, curled up under my workbench. He says my name a few times, confusion, sympathy and sadness rolled into his tone.

     When I don't respond, he puts his hands under my arms and pulls me out. He sits down on the dirty wooden floor, likely messing up his neat, expensive black pants, but he doesn't seem to mind as he pulls me close to him so that I'm basically on his lap like I used to be when I was little, and wraps his arms around me, encasing me in the hug I've waited so long for, but never knew how to ask for.

     "It's okay." He whispers, but I shake my head over and over again, putting my hands in my hair and trying to rip it out from my scalp. He quickly grabs both of my hands, restraining them gently. "Don't do that, sweetheart. Don't hurt yourself."

I sob harder. "Make it stop, dad!" I shout.

"Make what stop, baby?"

I release a large breath, trying to calm myself down. He rubs his hand up and down my back, slowly rocking me like in a baby unable to fall asleep in the early night.

"All of it." I whisper.

"Amalia." He says softly. "You have to let us help you. I can't lose you, sweetheart."