Chapter 2
I heard my door knocked. There stood
my dad with his Nike jersey, a baggy jean and Nike trainers, grinning, his eyes
were sparkly.
“Ready for an early jogging?” he
whispered and I nodded feverishly.
“Just let me get ready.” I said, he
nodded and closed the door. I’d worn my yellow Adidas halter top and white
short shorts. My feet declined the sport sandals so i changed into my DKNY
trianers. I pulled my long straight hair into a tight ponytail and put my
baseball cap.
“Girl, we’re just going out jogging.”
My dad complained when he saw me coming down at the stairs.
“A girl must be neat in every way.” I
replied in a smugly way.
As he rolled his eyes, he muttered
“Girls” underbreath and we headed outside. It was extremely early, just 5 a.m.
in the morning but cold weather helped me pull myself up. And i was also happy
that my strict dad has gone and the old, funny one came back. We ran in the
same rythm till the beach. When we nearly approached it, he stopped and glanced
around, beach’s always been his favourite place. I stopped beside him and looked
around, it was all empty, the only ones sharing this breath taking view was sea
gulls flying up and down on the subdued ocean. He stood there still for another
minute before looking at me and saying “Last one to the shore is a rotten egg!”
and began running.
“Dad!” I shouted but he had already
flied down to beach, next thing i had to was follow him. And i did. When i was
finally down there at the shore, he was goofing around shouting “Rotten Egg!
Rotten Egg!” What kind of dad was he?
“You’re still a child.” I said out of
breath. He was two times older but more healthy.
“Does that matter?” he chirped and sat
down next to me, where i was laying on cold sands to take back my normal
breath. But i quickly straightened up. It was time to ask the questions running
through my mind. Perfect timing was it.
“Dad, will you tell me about my
mother?” I dove into the subject without wasting any time.
“No I won’t.” He said curtly. I had
enraged him but i was on my curious day, I continued manhandling.
“Don’t I have any right to know who
gave me birth? Damn dad, I don’t know her name, I don’t have any picture of
her, at least let me know something about her.”
“I won’t tell you anything about it
okay? Subject is closed.” He cut it off.
“You’re remorseful for having me,
ain’t ya?” I asked, words were the sharp
knives, cutting my heart into pieces.
“Are you insane? You’re my daughter, i
love you more than anything in this world.” He said reproachfully.
“Then tell me my mother.”
“No I won’t.” It was simple. He
wouldn’t. Stubborn goat.
“Come on, you’re gonna be late.” He
said after a while. I got up slowly and we walked all the way to our home not
speaking even a word.
All day at school was totally a
torment for me. To my great confusion, i put up with everything telling myself
that tomorrow was weekend. Zackary and his buds kept making fun of me, my
superficial ‘best’ friends left me one by one, cos i had broken up with Zac so
i wasn’t popular anymore and i ofcourse couldn’t help them to flirt with Zac’s
hot buds. But i didn’t care any of those silly stuff, the only thing concerning
my mind was my mother. I was burning to get a little stuff about her but there
was no sign.
I had finally escaped to my own little
world. I dressed into some jeans and a T-shirt, grabbed my discman, some CDs
and my diary and made my way to our small dock where our boat were tied. It was
my face place to sit and think with waves of ocean. I put one of the Journey
CDs (dad had influenced) and opened my diary and wrote:
Part Three: Strict Dad
Yup, we were at the third part of the
series. The first and second were Hidden Dad and Casanova Dad. But now I’m
recalling those days, the worst was Casanova Dad. I’m gonna tell you from the
begining.
Hidden Dad:
That was the period of time from my
birth to 9 years old. As I told you before, I was born when he was seventeen
and being in a world famous band, they hid me from press. I started realizing
it as i got older and finally really heard the voices talking about me. Little could
i remember before it that he used to play with me at nights. I was usually
asleep then I’d hear his sing-song voice ‘daddy’s here’ and when I opened my
eyes, I’d see his beautiful shining face and his famous smile. Then he’d
embrace me into a warm hug and we’d play together for an hour or so. That was
back then when i was 3 or 4.
Afterwards, i started hearing all the
voices around me and seeing things. My dad had never let my grandparents take
care of me when he was on tour, he had always brought me with him. But, the
part hurt was I was always let on to be someone else’s daughter. One day a
managers, the other Leighanne’s little
niece. Even i always declined to do it my father succeed in convincing me.
“Look, did you see those men with cameras?” he’d point them from far away. “If
they see you in my arms or anything like that, they’ll bombard us with their
questions and they’ll scare you. You wouldn’t want it, would you?” And i’d nod
as a no but everytime i asked ‘why?’ he’d always come up with the same answer.
“They just will.” The feeling not to call your dad ‘dad’ infront of screaming
fans or press and not even being near him had jolted me so many times. I
remember crying in his arms at nights, saying how much i love him and other
guys were admonishing him for leaving me at home. I used to hate them whem they
were talking like that, but now i can see that they were totally right. But my
stubborn goat had never listened to them.
And the day everything went out to
sunlight...
I was running frantically towards my
dad. He was sitting right there with the boys. Some press were there and of
course loyal fans. I had covered my right arm with a T-shirt and holding it
tightly to stop bleeding cos a sharp knife had cut it from end to end. I hadn’t
told anybody, the only person i wanted was my daddy at that time. I remember
being stopped by a wall, pardon, it was a bodyguard hired for that day and of
course, like most of the workers, he didn’t know anything about me.
“You can’t go there. Show me your pass
please.” He commanded.
“I don’t know where it is, I’ve lost
it, please let me in.” I begged half crying.
“No you can’t go in unless you find
your pass.” He said. Damn! They weren’t in a seperate room, they were just a
few feet away from me but i still couldn't approach them. My arm was hurting
really badly and having a short temper, I yelled at him.
“Let me in!”I tried kicking his leg
and by the way i was trying to throw fists with my undamaged arm.
That was when he held me fiercely from
my injured arm and pushed me away. I squealed, as tears ran down through my
cheeks, I’d never felt a sharp pain like that. From the corner of my eye, i saw
all the press and fans gawking at me, meanwhile my dad ran over to us and
placed his strong fist on bodyguard’s face. It had happened real fast, that
everybody couldn’t get what had happened before i shouted “Daddy!” and ran into
his warm arms. There was the press, there were hundreds of fans but we both
didn’t care. Till the others came, he hugged me tightly and whispered to my ear
“Daddy’s here, don’t worry, everything’s alright.”
That was the time I finally emerged.
Casanova Dad:
I think it was the hardest period of my life.
Would it hurt you knowing there’s another girl in your dad’s bedroom? I don’t
know you but it had hurt me alot. That was right 3 years after i emerged in
public and those three years were the best.
He was 29 years old exactly when he
started going out everynight this time leaving me at home alone. He’d wait until
i fell asleep and then skip off. But one night I heard some girl giggles, my
dads hushes, footsteps on wooden stairs, openning of his bedroom door,
whispers, some moans and bed’s endless creaks. I was sleepy, i hadn’t got what
was going on, but one week after I was fully awake, it was nearly 2:30 a.m. in
the morning and i peeped at them while they made their way upstairs swaying
back and forth and inside his room. I dunno how but i had the courage to spy on
from his bedroom door to see where those bed creaks were coming from. And i
remember trying my best not to throw up everything i ate.
Those bed creaks was heard in our
house almost every week for a year, with the company of a different girl’s moan
everytime.
Then everything went back to normal
again...Till yesterday.
***
