Lonely Strangers

Bastard

When I was young I was told that my father was away on a mission in the military. I never saw him before. Never spoke to him. All I knew was that he existed, and I never thought about him until I went to middle school, since that's when I learned my mom was dating. It took me a while to catch on to who Salim was to her, he came over way too often and the way he lingered in the house made it obvious that he wasn't some normal guest. She would tell me to go in my room when he would wrap his arms around her waist with that silly smile. You can guess how that night went.

       It made me mad. My dad was fighting for our country, for both of us, and you turn your back and cheat on him!? I told my friends that my mom was cheating, I even told a mentor from my church about it. I kept trying to figure out the answer to why she did it, so I gathered up the courage and brought it up. I won't ever forget that day, I cried so much, my cheeks became red, and my heart continued to ache. "Your father left" is all she said. She flinched when she said the words and became teary as she watched my response. I knew that he couldn't have been at war for over 10 years, my mentor even posit that reality.

        Salim ended up marrying my mom. He isn't a bad guy, he went to college, has a good job, and he was always nice to me, so I respect him for that. He kept a clear boundary with how he dealt with me since I was now his stepdaughter. He got my mom pregnant and I now have two siblings, Hughie and Halia, they were cute when they were little but now looking at them makes me jealous. They look just like their father. They act like him. Speak like him. Resemble him. How does that make them feel? To actually have a blood father you can talk to?

       It's like they are the perfect family. Mom, Salim, with Hughie and Halia, but I'm the accident in the picture. I wasn't supposed to be here, not in this family at least. I can't go to Salim for advice because he doesn't know how to react to me. I can't tell my mom that I can tell that she sees my dad in me, that I can see the regret, pity, and desire for what made my blood. I can't tell my siblings that we are only halves because they're too young to understand, so they won't know my feelings. I can't tell anyone. Except myself.

       The dinner table. No phones out. We each say a short prayer and something good about our day. I opened my eyes this time, engraving the smallest details on their faces, questioning the reason why I'm here. This is my family, yet I feel like the alien in disguise. "It's your turn, Kaitlyn," Hughie tightened his grip on my hand. "God thank you for another day, another meal, another chance, I pray that you bless us and this food in Christ's name, Amen," I said. "Today, I'm happy to still be alive," I mumbled, almost doubting the reason behind my existence in the first place.

      "Well, aren't we all?" Salim smiled. "The head of the house is always last. Close your eyes and bow your head. God in heaven, thank you for blessing me with a wife that can cook, thank you for my smart little boys, and for the best daughter, a man could ask for. God raise her to be a woman that is bolder than her mother, quick-minded, and skillful. Skillful in cooking. Amen," we all chuckled. "Next week is Halia's 4th birthday, today I'm happy with being together as a family. My father was never in my life, my mom was a single parent, so being here together makes me so happy!" he dramatized for the kids with a wide smile on his face. He gave them a bear hug as my mom blushed in excitement. 

        "Family huh?" I whispered. All I know is them and a few cousins. Yet, somehow we're a family? I can tell that he just made it all up. He doesn't love me. I'm not his daughter. Salim isn't my dad. Why should he care? Because he knew me for a couple of years? He doesn't even warn me about boys or tries to give me advice. But, at least he is actually here, my real father abandoned me. I wonder why. Maybe its because bastards like me aren't supposed to know what a real family is.

Writer Notes: What is a family to you?