Her solace was the tears she shed in the middle of the night, when she knew there was no one to listen to her sobs or notice her wet pillow..
He found salvation in the blood that often oozed out of his hand.
When their paths meet, will the blood be...
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Nightmares. Bad Dreams.
They won't leave me ever.
This time it is just my Dad and me, standing near a new red car. And he is talking to me, "Eira, you like it?"
"Like it? I can't believe this. You finally got it for me!"
He just smiles at me, waiting for me to go embrace him, envelope my slender arms and whisper a thank you, but I stand there, looking at my new car at a thousand angles, taking pictures, selfies with it.
I can feel my Dad's urge to come hug me, but he is worried I might not like it and he is fine with it. That's what who my dad was, never complaining, never shouting. Always adjusting.
He was a great man, and I let him down.
It pricks me in my heart like a thousand needles.
"Let's go for a drive?" He asks me with the broad smile still plastered on his face, but I am so engaged in the admiration, I hardly notice. I am hesitant to take up his offer as I want him to leave but I finally make up my mind and tell him, "Okay, but just to the junction, I have a party at 4," which I can sense, is a big lie.
And I get inside the car and stamp my feet on the accelerator. The feeling is overwhelming and I love it, but as soon as I am out of the gate, something crashes at my car and the glass is all over the place, and so is the blood.
But I am not hurt, I am not even scared. I just stare at my Dad's limp body and start laughing.
I am about to scream out, and I know I am sweating. The scene is red and it's killing me.
And then out of the blue, out of nowhere there is a boy standing there, and the scene is all blue.
