Daughter of a Dixon ✔️

90: I'm So Sorry

One of the first happy entries I wrote in my journal happened when I was six, and began like this:

WOW! Today was GREAT! First of all, I got to stay home from school because I had a sore throat, whoo! Dad took real good care of me, and we watched movies together ALL DAY! Uncle Merle was away, which was a little good because Dad let me use him as a pillow when we watched our movies. He promised he wouldn't tell Uncle Merle that I broke the motto, and that was good enough for me! Dad and I just laid around on the couch, eating ice cream and whatever else we could find around the house. It was like HEAVEN, and in the end, it was totally worth lying about the sore throat!

I couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh, shaking my head at the naive, six-year old me. Back then, my problems were just not wanting to sit in school for six hours, or trying to find the will to do my coloring homework. Little did I know that, in about four years, the world would turn to Hell, and only go downhill from there.

As I read back through my entires, from years, weeks, or even days ago, all I could wonder was how I could've let my life get so damn screwed up.

Night had fallen upon the Hilltop, and I was sitting in the back bedroom of Maggie's mobile unit, trembling, no matter how hard I tried to stop myself. I had no idea how I was going to handle myself when Dad walked through that door, finally knowing the true reason why I faked my own death. The only thing I could hope for was that he didn't yell at me again; I knew I couldn't take that, and honestly, I don't think he could've either.

I had thought about ditching the whole thing, and high-tailing it back to Alexandria as soon as I could. Although, I had stopped myself time after time again. If we weren't going to get things sorted out right then, we would've had to at some point, and it was way past time Dad and I talked about everything. As much as I dreaded it, and as much as it terrified me, I knew, I had to face it head-on.

Knock knock.

Shit. Here we go. Breathe.

I forced myself to watch as the door to the bedroom creaked open, and a large figure loomed in the doorway. There wasn't any escape then; I had gone past the point of no return, and it was time to face the god-awful mess I had gotten myself into.

I rose from my position on the bed, standing silently beside it. I hadn't yet found the courage to look my dad in the eyes, and I could tell, he hadn't either. We were like two, feuding siblings, who both knew they were in the wrong, but neither one knew what to say to even start apologizing. There was so much to say, it was overwhelming, and for a moment, I forgot how my voice even worked.

Eventually, the silence threatened to suffocate us both, and neither of us could take it anymore.

"I'm sorry, Sid..."

Dad had said it first. After that, I forced myself to look at him, only to find he was looking right back at me. It was the first time in a few days that we had truly looked each other in the eyes.

I had never seen that much pain in my dad's eyes, and never, ever, did I want to see it again. It sent a crack the size of the Grand Canyon through my heart, and I automatically felt tears rushing to the fronts of my eyes.

I couldn't help myself. I ran forward and jumped into Dad's arms like a five-year old girl, because I'll be damned if I didn't need it more than anything.