Page 110 of Stroked Hard
I’m so fucked up in the head. Thanks, Daddy dearest.
Instead of drowning myself in pity and spending the rest of the day under the comforter on my bed, I put on a pair of spandex shorts and a workout tank. I need my beach; I know it will help clear my head.
Putting my earphones in, I go to my favorite playlist, press play, and jog my way to the beach.
The cool ocean breeze hits first, slowly relaxing the migraine that wants to take up residence in my brain. Salt water and sand invade my senses while the sun sets to the west over the ocean. It’s serene, calming. It’s the main reason I wanted to live so close to the ocean.
It’s funny, how the smallest things can shape you as a person, or even the biggest.
My dad . . . God, he was a good man when I knew him. He treated my mom well; he acted like I was his world, like I was the most important thing in his life.
Just like Hollis does . . .
He was everything. And then he left without a word, without giving me a second thought, and I’ve felt utterly . . . worthless.
My breath catches in my throat from the thought.
Worthless.
That’s all I am, and it’s all I’ll ever be.
Perfectly damaged and thoroughly worthless.
Tears stream down my face blurring my vision.Damaged.Warm sorrow covers my face.Alone.Slowing down, I link my hands over my head trying feverously to catch my breath with what seems like the world spinning around me.Worthless.
I fall to the ground, the sand filling my running shoes, people walking around me on the beach, staring at the broken little girl. I remove my ear buds and scan the beach, trying to soak in as much of my favorite place as I can, trying to wash away the pain coursing through me.
From the side, I hear a little girl laugh, the sweet sound of her being chased cutting through the rhythm of the waves against the shore. To the right, there is a girl who looks about twelve, her hair in French braids, wearing a pink swimsuit. A boy who looks to be in high school is chasing her, playing the big-brother role to his finest, never running too fast so she’s caught, giving her just enough room to think she’s beating him. It’s adorable.
“She just ate, Jack, be careful with my baby girl.”
That voice.
That deep, masculine, smoke-filled voice.
Slowly, I turn to toward where it came from, the sun setting behind the man’s frame makes it hard to decipher until he steps to the side, revealing the man I last saw when I was six.When he left me.My heart catches in my chest from the sight of him.
He’s by no means the same man in his appearance. He’s filled out, his hair has thinned and greyed, but that face, I would recognize it anywhere because it looks so similar to mine.
My dad.
Standing right there, a picnic basket in his hand, a smile of adoration on his face as he watches his children.
“Daddy,” the girl shrieks, running up to him. He drops the picnic basket and scoops her up just before his son can catch her. She giggles in his arms as he kisses her all over her smiling face. “Daddy, protect me.” Her screech is surrounded with joy while Jack dodges at both of them, my dad protecting her.
My dad . . .
But is he really?
Dads are supposed to love you unconditionally. They’re supposed to protect you, to shelter you from harm, so how come I’m the one sitting here fatherless on the beach while he affectionately loves and protects another little girl? How come he stayed with them?
How come I’m the one alone?
Why the fuck did he leave me?
It’s because I’m worthless.
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