Saving Neba

𝐗: A daughter and her father

"Wake up, Em, it's your birthday month!" A petite body hovered over me. "And and and, it's the day I get to go to school!"

I groaned and turned to the other side. The owner of the five-year-old body bounced on the bed in excitement, "Wakey wakey! Come on!" She pulled me till I was at the edge of the bed, before forcing my legs to hit the floor.

"Yeah, a good morning to you too, Nora," I added acerbically, slipping into my purple slippers and getting up on my feet while rubbing my eyes.

"Emery, make those chocolate thingies you made last year in March. Pweety please," she squeaked, clinging to my loose furry pyjama pants.

I rubbed my eyes even more. "Chunk brownies?"

"I don't know. . .It comes out of the oven rectangular and then you begin to cut them into smaller rectangles," she explained. Her sunny blue eyes shone with excitement.

"Oh yeah. No." I walked to the bathroom, left the door open, and brought out my toothbrush. "Don't you have school to go to?"

"Emery!" She groaned, urging. "Please?"

"No."

"I'll draw you with my crayons, I won't watch TV, I'll be good in school, anything just please," she pestered.

"As sweet as your offers sound" — I walked out of the bathroom and towards her, standing beside my open door — "no. Those things take almost three hours. We also don't have most of the ingredients, like brown sugar and unsalted butter, you see. And, you don't want to get you—"

The sound of Mum's door opening cut me off. Dad walked out with a file in one hand and a pen in the other. He looked up and our eyes met.

Each time I saw Dad, I could see myself in him. Mum was so accurate in my resemblance to this man.

His eyes were brown, his eyebrows were arched, his skin was creamy, his hair looked like coffee, and even his nose was small and slightly pointed. The only difference between us, besides him being a muscular version of me, was the signs of the number of years he's lived — like the wrinkles of a man in his early forties.

"Daddy!" Nora ran to him and jumped on him, catching him off guard. He gained composure immediately, wrapping his arms around her. He kept her stable, close to him. "Morning."

"Morning, my darling. How was your night?"

"Awesome. Daddy, tell Emery to cook chunk brownies. I already promised to—"

"Emery, what are chunk brownies?" He interjected, throwing the question at me.

I couldn't will my legs to move. Nora's pale legs around Dad's waist and her hands on his shoulders, while he kept her in place was something I didn't think would make me want to cry. The bright smile on her face-Nora seemed happy, she was happy.

There was nothing as perfect as this. Sandra's beauty could not be compared to the bond, happiness, or satisfaction that came with the closeness of a daughter and her father. Why didn't Dad want it to remain that way?

I wasn't quick enough to stop a tear coming down my right eye. And, I wasn't quick to reply.

"Emery?"

"Uh, good morning, dad." I walked into my room, as if searching for something, then walked back out. I wiped my teary eyes and hurried to the kitchen, where Mum was preparing pancakes.

I grabbed a bottle of water from the breakfast bar and opened it. "Morning, Mum." I drank. "You're registering Nora today?"

"Your dad is. It's more familiar and Jayden is there too."