Distracted

{Erin}

ｄｉｓｔｒａｃｔｅｄ

thought: Hate being shadowed by the past

 Imagine a father who was only there part of the time; only when it was completely necessary. Never did he attend Erin’s award evenings or come to sports days like other parents. He sat at home with bottles of beer and cigarettes, watching television and sleeping. Erin only knew him coated in smoke and tired eyes.

Sometimes he would cook food but mostly he just sent Erin to the chip shop down the street or to the store to get some tins of food.

One day, when she was young, Erin came home from school early, crying. Someone had called her names at lunch and asked why she smelt of cigarettes. She had run from the school, all the way home, which was a very long way. Usually, she would get a lift with Georgia but today she had walked and stumbled the whole way.

Her father watched her let herself in with tired eyes. She hung up her coat and put her shoes away whilst still snivelling. She then emptied her homework out onto a cluttered table and sat down ready to tackle it. She just wanted to get it over with, as she knew she’d be in trouble tomorrow.

“Here,” her father said in a gruff voice and opened his arms slightly.

Erin looked up. With hesitation, she went over to him and climbed up onto his knee. Although he stank and was covered in bits of food, she curled up on him and told him what happened. He held her as best he could and tried to listen.

Maybe he couldn’t listen because he was just too far away. He knew he was a bad father and didn’t deserve a child as sweet as Erin but he couldn’t bring himself to change his ways.

The only memory Erin has of her father being able to show not love, but mere affection or natural impulse to care for his young, is that memory.

Erin particularly remembers sharing that memory with Lewis a few years later on one of the Thursdays they shared.

After she had told him, he was at a loss of what to say. What can you say to that?

“I’m sorry you never had parents that wanted to help you when you had days like those days.”

Erin shook her head. “You mustn’t apologise for my dad’s bad ways.” She kicked a stone. “I hate him. I hate him so much I want to scream it at him. The only things he has ever done for me was basic things when I was a baby.  He wasn’t as bad then. He was probably expecting mum to just reappear. When he stopped looking after me so much…he just gave up. Like he has no purpose anymore. And he doesn’t. We’re living off benefits, which I am ashamed of. I will have to get a job, maybe two, as soon as I can. He hasn’t prepared me for anything, just let me go.”

“What happened to your mum?”

“My mum’s…dead.”

Lewis cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising, Lew!”

“I don’t know what else to say.”

They lapsed into silence.

“I didn’t mean to say all that. But it felt nice to get it out.”

“That’s fine.”

Erin didn’t know how she was speaking to him, let alone trusting him with one of her biggest secrets. The Mystery of Erin West, as she used to be known at school. She kept her home life private, of course. Some people weren’t satisfied with that though. Curiosity can get the better of most people.

Erin still couldn’t forget one detail about that day.

The boy, who had called her names, the reason she had run home, was Lewis. But it didn’t seem that he could remember anyway. Why would he remember such a thing that meant nothing to him, but so much to her?

Lewis did remember, but didn’t say anything. He hoped she might have forgotten who it was. He wanted to forget now and let it all be behind him. Right then, he was sitting next to a pretty girl at the beach, talking, laughing. He was sitting next to his best friend.