I heard my door
knocked. There stood my dad with his Nike jersey, a baggy jean and Nike
trainers, grinning, his eyes were sparkly.
“Ready for an early
jogging?” he whispered and I nodded feverishly.
“Just let me get ready.”
I said, he nodded and closed the door. I’d worn my yellow Adidas halter top and
white short shorts. My feet declined the sport sandals so i changed into my
DKNY trianers. I pulled my long straight hair into a tight ponytail and put my
baseball cap.
“Girl, we’re just
going out jogging.” My dad complained when he saw me coming down at the stairs.
“A girl must be neat
in every way.” I replied in a smugly way.
As he rolled his
eyes, he muttered “Girls” underbreath and we headed outside. It was extremely
early, just 5 a.m. in the morning but cold weather helped me pull myself up.
And i was also happy that my strict dad has gone and the old, funny one came
back. We ran in the same rythm till the beach. When we nearly approached it, he
stopped and glanced around, beach’s always been his favourite place. I stopped
beside him and looked around, it was all empty, the only ones sharing this
breath taking view was sea gulls flying up and down on the subdued ocean. He
stood there still for another minute before looking at me and saying “Last one
to the shore is a rotten egg!” and began running.
“Dad!” I shouted but
he had already flied down to beach, next thing i had to was follow him. And i
did. When i was finally down there at the shore, he was goofing around shouting
“Rotten Egg! Rotten Egg!” What kind of dad was he?
“You’re still a
child.” I said out of breath. He was two times older but more healthy.
“Does that matter?”
he chirped and sat down next to me, where i was laying on cold sands to take
back my normal breath. But i quickly straightened up. It was time to ask the
questions running through my mind. Perfect timing was it.
“Dad, will you tell
me about my mother?” I dove into the subject without wasting any time.
“No I won’t.” He said
curtly. I had enraged him but i was on my curious day, I continued manhandling.
“Don’t I have any
right to know who gave me birth? Damn dad, I don’t know her name, I don’t have
any picture of her, at least let me know something about her.”
“I won’t tell you
anything about it okay? Subject is closed.” He cut it off.
“You’re remorseful
for having me, ain’t ya?” I asked,
words were the sharp knives, cutting my heart into pieces.
“Are you insane?
You’re my daughter, i love you more than anything in this world.” He said reproachfully.
“Then tell me my
mother.”
“No I won’t.” It was
simple. He wouldn’t. Stubborn goat.
“Come on, you’re
gonna be late.” He said after a while. I got up slowly and we walked all the
way to our home not speaking even a word.
All day at school was
totally a torment for me. To my great confusion, i put up with everything
telling myself that tomorrow was weekend. Zackary and his buds kept making fun
of me, my superficial ‘best’ friends left me one by one, cos i had broken up
with Zac so i wasn’t popular anymore and i ofcourse couldn’t help them to flirt
with Zac’s hot buds. But i didn’t care any of those silly stuff, the only thing
concerning my mind was my mother. I was burning to get a little stuff about her
but there was no sign.
I had finally escaped
to my own little world. I dressed into some jeans and a T-shirt, grabbed my
discman, some CDs and my diary and made my way to our small dock where our boat
were tied. It was my face place to sit and think with waves of ocean. I put one
of the Journey CDs (dad had influenced) and opened my diary and wrote:
Part Three: Strict Dad
Yup, we were at the
third part of the series. The first and second were Hidden Dad and Casanova
Dad. But now I’m recalling those days, the worst was Casanova Dad. I’m gonna
tell you from the begining.
Hidden
Dad:
That was the period
of time from my birth to 9 years old. As I told you before, I was born when he
was seventeen and being in a world famous band, they hid me from press. I
started realizing it as i got older and finally really heard the voices talking
about me. Little could i remember before it that he used to play with me at
nights. I was usually asleep then I’d hear his sing-song voice ‘daddy’s here’
and when I opened my eyes, I’d see his beautiful shining face and his famous
smile. Then he’d embrace me into a warm hug and we’d play together for an hour
or so. That was back then when i was 3 or 4.
Afterwards, i started
hearing all the voices around me and seeing things. My dad had never let my
grandparents take care of me when he was on tour, he had always brought me with
him. But, the part hurt was I was always let on to be someone else’s daughter.
One day a managers, the other
Leighanne’s little niece. Even i always declined to do it my father
succeed in convincing me. “Look, did you see those men with cameras?” he’d
point them from far away. “If they see you in my arms or anything like that,
they’ll bombard us with their questions and they’ll scare you. You wouldn’t
want it, would you?” And i’d nod as a no but everytime i asked ‘why?’ he’d
always come up with the same answer. “They just will.” The feeling not to call
your dad ‘dad’ infront of screaming fans or press and not even being near him
had jolted me so many times. I remember crying in his arms at nights, saying
how much i love him and other guys were admonishing him for leaving me at home.
I used to hate them whem they were talking like that, but now i can see that
they were totally right. But my stubborn goat had never listened to them.
And the day everything
went out to sunlight...
I was running
frantically towards my dad. He was sitting right there with the boys. Some
press were there and of course loyal fans. I had covered my right arm with a
T-shirt and holding it tightly to stop bleeding cos a sharp knife had cut it
from end to end. I hadn’t told anybody, the only person i wanted was my daddy
at that time. I remember being stopped by a wall, pardon, it was a bodyguard
hired for that day and of course, like most of the workers, he didn’t know anything
about me.
“You can’t go there.
Show me your pass please.” He commanded.
“I don’t know where
it is, I’ve lost it, please let me in.” I begged half crying.
“No you can’t go in
unless you find your pass.” He said. Damn! They weren’t in a seperate room,
they were just a few feet away from me but i still couldn't approach them. My
arm was hurting really badly and having a short temper, I yelled at him.
“Let me in!”I tried
kicking his leg and by the way i was trying to throw fists with my undamaged
arm.
That was when he held
me fiercely from my injured arm and pushed me away. I squealed, as tears ran
down through my cheeks, I’d never felt a sharp pain like that. From the corner
of my eye, i saw all the press and fans gawking at me, meanwhile my dad ran over
to us and placed his strong fist on bodyguard’s face. It had happened real
fast, that everybody couldn’t get what had happened before i shouted “Daddy!”
and ran into his warm arms. There was the press, there were hundreds of fans
but we both didn’t care. Till the others came, he hugged me tightly and
whispered to my ear “Daddy’s here, don’t worry, everything’s alright.”
That was the time I finally emerged.
Casanova
Dad:
I think it was the hardest period of my life. Would it hurt you knowing
there’s another girl in your dad’s bedroom? I don’t know you but it had hurt me
alot. That was right 3 years after i emerged in public and those three years
were the best.
He was 29 years old
exactly when he started going out everynight this time leaving me at home
alone. He’d wait until i fell asleep and then skip off. But one night I heard
some girl giggles, my dads hushes, footsteps on wooden stairs, openning of his
bedroom door, whispers, some moans and bed’s endless creaks. I was sleepy, i hadn’t
got what was going on, but one week after I was fully awake, it was nearly 2:30
a.m. in the morning and i peeped at them while they made their way upstairs
swaying back and forth and inside his room. I dunno how but i had the courage
to spy on from his bedroom door to see where those bed creaks were coming from.
And i remember trying my best not to throw up everything i ate.
Those bed creaks was
heard in our house almost every week for a year, with the company of a
different girl’s moan everytime.
Then everything went
back to normal again...Till yesterday.