The Inside of a Snowflake

Note: There are scenes of domestic violence.

“I forgive you,” Lily whispered.

She took a deep breath and stood there staring. Rain plastered her reddish brown hair against her face as she stood before the gravestone, her hands buried deep in the pockets of her blue jacket. Rain drops streamed down the stone, blurring the crossed out name she had once wished she could erase from existence. Once, in a moment of rage, she had picked up a rock and scraped it against his name again and again, until her hands were bleeding. She wanted to destroy the letters, to erase him, like had had tried over the years to destroy parts of her.

Over the years, she had imagined that seeing it carved into stone would bring her some satisfaction, even justice. Closure. It hadn’t and even when she crossed the name out on the gravestone herself, it didn’t matter. She swallowed hard as a tear ran down her cheek mixed with rain. She had spent years imagining what this moment would feel like. She was finally free of him, finally able to release her anger, but instead she was exhausted. There was no justice, no true justice in this.

How could it bring justice anyway? The justice system was a joke! The country was being led by a convicted criminal and possible pedophile who had managed to bring out the worst in society. Her father believed whatever his movement told him to believe. Repeated mantras became indistinguishable from her father’s own ideas. It was nerve-wracking, to say the least. The worst part was that her father had been loyal to this specific cult until the very end.

Lily shook her head. It was easy to forgive someone who could no longer hurt you or others. Would she have been able to forgive him if he was still alive? She could imagine looking into his hazel brown eyes, the same as hers, but would she be able to say those words to him? She didn’t know. Would her father even have understood that he had blood on his hands? Would he even have cared?

She wiped another tear from her eye and gulped. The disease had taken him before she could find out. The same disease that swept across the country years ago, while the government failed to protect its people. So many unnecessary deaths, and people like her father, either oblivious to all of it, or just straight up not caring. There was no comprehending insanity.

Lily’s father had been the one to raise her. When her mother died after she was born, it was just her and her father. She thought they had a special bond at one point, her and her dad. It was them against the world, but that view would soon shatter.

She remembered one day, as a small child, she was playing with a red toy truck a neighbor had brought over and her father shaking his head and looking disappointed. Later that night, he got rid of all the toy cars and trucks.

“Those toys are for boys only,” he said when he saw her crying. “You’re a girl and you need to act like one!”

When she had introduced her first girlfriend to him in her later teen years, once she was alone he had beaten her with a belt for daring to go against god. He hurt her, again and again.

Sudden realization spread across her features. He would not have cared about the countless destroyed lives. If sacrificing her brought him another day of comfort, power, or security, he would have done it without hesitation. No wonder he fell for the neo Nazi cult. This cult that promised these people someone else to blame for their problems. This cult that allowed them to bully others. This cult that was so reminiscent of certain historical cults during World War II and even beyond that if you truly studied world history. Lily had majored in history in university and could name multiple things but bit her tongue. It would not do well to dwell on those thoughts right now.

A hand settled gently on Lily’s shoulder. She turned to see her girlfriend, Mia. Mia was taller than her, with dirty blond, almost light brown hair, and gray blue eyes. Mia was also wearing a blue jacket, and soaked from the rain. She smiled softly and warmly.

“That’s brave,” Mia said. “Forgiving someone like that even if he was your father. I don’t think I could have done it.”

“I don’t know if I should call this forgiveness,” Lily sighed. “He may have been my father, but that doesn’t excuse everything he’s done.”

“So, why forgive him?” Mia asked.

“Because I’m tired," Lily answered.

Mia said nothing.

“I don’t forgive him because he deserves it,” Lily’s voice trembled. “I just want to stop carrying him.”

“Sounds like Christian bullshit!” Mia said.

Lily laughed, a small, broken sound that disappeared into the storm. For a moment, there was only the sound of rain.

“Possibly,” Lily said meekly.

Mia squeezed her hand.

“Hey, if it works, it works,” Mia said gently.

Lily looked at the gravestone one last time. She remembered some of the good things, like the love of reading her father instilled in her. The man had even encouraged her to write. It made no sense to her. She couldn’t understand how someone so well read could fall as low as he did, although it did make sense as to why she used to hold such misogynistic views, something she worked so hard to overcome. Lily loved her father, but she could not in good conscience support him anymore, even if he was still alive. Sometimes, she wished she could have met her mother and got her perspective, but some things were never meant to be.

“I hope you never hurt anyone again,” she whispered. “I hope I never have to think of you again.”

This time, Lily squeezed Mia’s hand, their fingers intertwined. The rain pelted down harder behind them as they walked away, the rain starting to form into snowflakes. For the first time in years, Lily didn’t look back.