Lost Devotion

4.

𝐸𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓇

_________________________

Race day. Finally.

The fabulous Sunday afternoon is here!

The air is filled with excitement as the teams get prepared for the big race, fine-tuning their vehicles and going through the last check-ups. I take in my surroundings with amazement, watching the cheerful fans dressed in different matching colors as they eagerly wait for the start of the race, all crossing their fingers in the hope of their favorite driver's win.

I'm alone in the pit lane as I'm dismissed since Olivia will take care of some interviews with a couple of team managers before the race. But apparently, I'm not alone as my thoughts are keeping me company. I wish I would've appreciated it. 

I look blankly around me, watching a father from the crowd smiling as his child is screaming his favorite driver's name who notices the screaming and sends a little wave to the kid, making him smile widely. I smile a little bit, memories flashing in front of my eyes.

I was twelve years old when I got back home running to show my parents what I've got. "Mom! Dad!" I screamed as I entered the living room where my parents were sitting and watching Tv. They turn their attention to me, "You came back early," my mom remarked. "Yes, I run to show you this," I managed to say through my panting, showing them the two tickets I had in my hand, "Mrs. Anderson bought me tickets to the Formula One race after I got an A on my science project. Isn't that awesome?" I giggled, happy that my hard work got noticed.

My dad stood up from the couch, walking towards me, "Let me see," I hand him the two tickets, watching his face and waiting for his reaction. For a minute, I thought I saw my dad smiling and tapping the top of my head as he congratulates me, and I confess that I felt content and proud.

But none of it was real, it was all an illusion that I created in my mind.

The reality crashed into my little heart as I watched the corner of his lips twitch in a mocking smile as he hold the tickets by the two sides and started ripping them appart slowly. Silence fell in the room as the only thing hearable is the sound of paper tearing apart. I watched my gift turn into shreds in front of my eyes and my smile dropped slowly. I felt a lump forming in my throat, a feeling I couldn't swallow. I couldn't but regret feeling happy and excited knowing my dad wouldn't accept. I guess my little self thought that her father would change and finally would accept his daughter's love for a typical sport. Was it that hard for you, Dad?

"Your room. Now," he said sternly, pointing to the stairs with his chin. I was standing in my place, not moving at all as I felt numb, watching the small pieces, that meant a lot hours ago, settle on the ground having no value anymore. "I said now, Eleanor," he repeats himself, "Stop Micheal, don't that to the little girl," Mom interrupted, coming to rub her hand on my back. He scoffs, "You're the one who encouraged her to keep liking that sport when she is supposed to focus on her studies."