Daddy’s Little Girl
I grabbed a beer from the fridge after hearing the the news. My dad had another seizure. I chugged the first beer, then grabbed another. The buzz helped me relax, but my eyes still poured.
Every so often I’d get a flashback to when I was about 8 and my dad had his first seizure. I’d close my eyes and see my dad being pushed out of the house on a gurney. That imagine as been tattooed to the inside of my eyelids ever since that day. I remember not being able to fall asleep for hours. I remember my brother sleeping in my bed with me.
I gulp down the rest of the beer trying to choke down my tears.
Then, as I go back to the fridge, I hear the front door open, then shut. I hear footsteps getting closer to me. I slide down the wall next to the fridge, unable to stand any longer. I cry into my hands as my boyfriend walks in. I hear Thomas gasp as he sees the empty beer bottles. Then he turns towards me.
“My god, (Y/N)! What happened?” Thomas said, kneeling in front of me and caressing my cheek in his palm.
“Mmy ddad,” I stutter. I can’t say anything else and luckily Thomas doesn’t make me. He just wraps me in his warm embrace.
“Love, why didn’t you call me? Why’d you have to…” Thomas trails off, but I know he was talking about all the beers. I just cry harder into his muscular chest. I try not to think of who was there when it happened. I know he must have been alone, since my parent’s got a divorce when I was very young. I try not to think about how long it took him to get help. The first time I was there. My brother was there. That is always my biggest fear. Leaving my dad and then this happening. I should have never moved to London with Thomas. I should be with my dad. I hate myself for not being there. My brother and I are the only one’s my dad really has left.
“Thomas, he was alone. It’s all my fault,” I sob into Thomas’ chest. I just want the pain to stop. Not for me, but for my dad. Thomas pulls me off his chest and looks me in the eyes.
“It’s not your fault! It was never your fault!” Thomas almost yells at me. He wipes away tear after tear with his thumb. I begin to feel drowsy from the beers and from all the sobbing. It took a lot out of me. I lay my head back down on his chest and he lifts me up in his arms. Then he carries me upstairs to our bedroom.
Thomas lays me on our bed, tucking me in. My eyes can barely stay open, but everytime I close them I see my dad, when I was 9, being pushed away in the gurney. He sits with his knees to his chest, a strap holding him in. My eyes shoot open. I see Thomas walking out of the room.
“Thomas. Stay.” is all I say and he walks back over to me. He goes to the other side of the bed and lifts the blankets, to come in with me. I feel a blast of cool air as the blankets push cold air in and warm air out. Thomas lays down next to me and I set my head on his chest. I feel my head slowly move up and down, matching his breathing. I close my eyes, but I only see black. I almost smile. Then, I slowly fall out of consciousness.
(A/N): Hey guys. I just wanted to say a couple things. First thanks for all the reads, comments, and votes. I just hit 26 thousand, which is incredible!!! Second of all, requests are still open. Feel free to request whatever you want. Third, I wrote this about a personal experience I had. My dad actually did have a seizure when I was about 8. So, this was really important to me and it’s truly one of my biggest fears. That day was literally the scariest moment of my life and I remember it like it was yesterday. I just really wanted to write this, so here it is. I hope you guys like it.
Thanks a bunch!
