Will You Stay? (Urban)

21

Domonique

"Dad?"

He let me go and I turned all the way around to make sure my ears weren't deceiving me. My father, a spitting image of  Jordan, here before my eyes. I hadn't seen this man in fourteen years, but what he looked like was something I could never forget.

"What are you doing here?" He stared me down with eyes that replicated mine. I was confused, baffled even, at the fact he knew where I lived. Had he been watching me? Or was someone giving him information on my whereabouts? After a long stare he finally replied.

"Visiting my babygirl. You know I brought you something." I backed up towards the door. Should I scream? Try to run?

He saw my eyes searching for possibilities. "Oh. Don't worry about trying to run or fight me. It won't work. I got you outnumbered." So he had more people with him? I wonder how many. Would I be able to outrun them, or maybe even fight them all? I was strong but I couldn't possibly do all of that on my own.

"Imma ask you again. What are you doing here?" I crossed my arms. He doesn't get to show up at my house out of the blue. This man has never been apart of my life and there was no use starting now. He smiled, showcasing his relatively straight top row. "For this."

In a swift movement he revealed a sharp blade and lunged at me with it. It was suddenly clear that he didn't come to reconcile.  This little visit would turn violent. No matter what, I would go down fighting. I didn't care, as long as I knew I was fighting for my life. I rolled to the right, barely missing the knife. My screams almost filled the air, as I tried to get the attention of neighbors and passerby.

I opened my mouth only for it to be covered by my father's hands. "Shh. You don't need to do all that extra shit." He held the blade up to my face. It grazed my cheeks as he dragged it to my nose. The light bounced off of the metal.

"Your mom wanted me to give this to you." He drew the knife back and inserted it into my side. The grip on my mouth was so tight; pain caused me to bite down on his hands. I sunk my teeth into his flesh and he drew back.

"You were always a feisty motherfucker," The hand flew across my face with a hard smack. The impact made me fall down.

I used my hands to put pressure on my already bleeding wound. I was stumbling trying to get up. My left foot finally gain balanced when I was forced back down. "Your mom should have listened to me when I told her to abort you. Now she got me out here cleaning up her mess," he mumbled to himself. He got on top of me. My mom? What she had to do with this, I don't know.

And I was afraid I'd never find out.

I knew no one was coming to help me. There was commotion but no one really minded a little noise. It was normal around here. My head was spinning as two more tears ripped through my body. At the sight of my bleeding leg, I lost all consciousness.

My eyes shot open, and the familiar scent of antiseptic wafted into my nose, mixed in with the smell of home. My breathing quickened and panic eased up on me.

I gripped the fabric I was holding onto even tighter, until I realized who it was. "Nique, it's me," he shook me, "Relax. It's just Jaylen." He held my hands as I looked around the room. The windows revealed that it was almost dawn.

The thought of the dream overwhelmed me. I thought I suppressed those feelings over the course of this hospital stay. It was something I didn't want to think of again, even if some of my questions were still unanswered. Why did my mother want me dead, and how did she get in contact with my father? Who told them my address?