"It Doesn't Have to End Like This"

Trigger warning: Topic Alcohol addiction, Abandonment, bullying

My name is Daisy, and I live on a cow farm in Minnesota. I am an only child of a hardworking father and a mother who many would say was troubled. Growing up on a cow farm meant waking up to the fresh smell of cow manure wafting through my bedroom window—oh boy, what a joy! It also meant hearing the cows vocalizing in every key. I eventually began to talk back to them and learned to understand their sounds, which helped me figure out what kind of day they would have. You could say I’m a cow whisperer.

We also have chickens and a rooster named Rickety. Rickety has bright red feathers that look like they need a perm. His crow starts like a broken trumpet and ends with a loud, boisterous boom. It sounds like a mix between an old, rickety trumpet and a southern thunderstorm. Rickety serves as our farm’s alarm clock and acts like the neighborhood ADT alarm system.

Then there's our horse, Margie. Margie is a beautiful black stallion with a strong personality, and we love her despite two major issues: she refuses to take instructions once she starts moving. She tends to begin with a walk, shift into a prance, and then take off into a gallop, leaving her rider behind. While she’s transitioning from a walk to a prance, she ignores all commands, as if she believes instructions are irrelevant on her journey. We put forth our best efforts in training her, but we’ve come to understand that her best effort usually happens when she decides to stop.

My mother was a strong woman who grew up in a very poor family, raised alongside eleven siblings. She became an alcoholic at the age of sixteen and married my father when she was twenty-one. My father, a hardworking man with a fuzzy beard, had been working on farms even before he met my mother. Despite her struggles with alcohol, my mother would drink every night but still managed to sing to me as a toddler. She had a beautiful voice, and our favorite song was "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." Her soothing voice would lull me to sleep. It’s amazing how her gift, even during her drunken moments, brought me comfort and peace.

Sometimes we judge people based on their struggles instead of appreciating the small gifts and moments they provide when we need them the most. One last time, she held me and sang "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." She looked into my big hazel eyes and said, "I love you, Daisy, and I always will, no matter what." Then I fell asleep. That was the day she left my father and me. She caught a train, and we have not seen her since.

As a toddler, I watched my father sit in a rocking chair, holding a letter from her while tears streamed down his face. He loved her, even in her weakest moments, and I know she loved him too, but her struggles often overshadowed that love. I carry two moments ingrained in my subconscious: one that began with "love," the other that ended in "heartbreak" and tears.

Now at 17 years old, it feels like two friends have walked beside me throughout my life—one named "love" and the other named "heartbreak." I am in my last year of high school, and my favorite teacher's name is Mrs. Butterworth, like the American syrup. Mrs. Butterworth teaches home economics, and her favorite meal is pancakes and sausage. She is such a sweet woman who makes all the seniors in her class feel like it’s their birthday or an episode of *The Golden Girls.*

After a long day of school, I decided to walk through my neighbor's cornfield to get home. As I walked, I sang "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." When I got to the middle of the cornfield, I saw a woman with long blonde hair and a beautiful face; her big hazel eyes glistened in the sunlight.nlight.nlight.

The woman said, "Daisy?" I responded, "How do you know my name?" She replied, "There is a lot about you that I know. Daisy, I have something to tell you. You have been through a lot, and you are very strong; however, I must share this prophecy with you so that you can continue to live and thrive without losing hope. In three days, your father will be working at the farm when a couple of mountain lions come to prey on the cows. He will try to stop them and will get bitten to the point where the doctors won't know if he will survive. I am here to warn you to be strong."

I covered my face with my hands and began to cry. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. As I tried to wipe my eyes with a tissue from my pocket, I looked up, only to see that the beautiful woman was gone. I thought to myself, It doesn't have to end like this.

I didn't know what to do. Was it fake? Was she real? Was it true? The only thing I could think about was how I could change this prophecy. I had to try and alter the outcome. I wanted to save my papa, the man who had taken care of me my entire life. I screamed out, "WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY ME?" at the top of my lungs, but all I heard in response was silence as I walked the rest of the way home.

I wiped my face with a tissue, walked inside the house, and inhaled the delightful aroma of chicken baking in the oven and mashed potatoes simmering on the stove. My father was a great cook.

"Daisy, is that you?" he called out.

"Yes, Papa, it's me," I replied.

"Welcome home from school, darling! I hope your day was great."

I sighed and said, "Papa, it was a little tough, but I'm okay. May I go to my room?"

"Sure, darling," he said.

I walked into my room and thought, God, if you're real, I need you to help me change this prophecy and spare me the pain of heartbreak and the possibility of losing my father.

Later, I sat down to dinner with my father. He looked at me and said, "You know I love you, Daisy, and I'm here for you."

"Yes, Papa," I replied, "I appreciate that."

He added, "We can talk if you need to."

"Yes, Papa," I said again, and we finished our meal.

The next day, I realized I had three days to change the prophecy. On the first day, I pretended to be sick, telling my father I didn't feel well. I smeared mascara under my eyes and teased my hair until it stood up on top of my head. He allowed me to stay home.

Before he left for work, I rushed into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and went outside to slash the two front tires of his truck. I thought to myself, "This is completely out of character for me, but if it saves Daddy's life, it's worth it." I then went back inside and headed straight to my room.

My father finished his shower, got dressed, and walked outside, yelling, "Come on!" I heard him kicking the tires, and I started giggling, thinking my plan had worked. He had to call a co-worker who couldn't come until later, so he ended up calling off from work and staying home, which brought me so much peace. I realized that my efforts to prevent a difficult situation had been successful that day.

On the second day, I woke up with my heart pounding, trying to figure out how to prevent another heartbreaking situation. I reminded myself that it didn't have to end like this. I knew I had to go to school, but I needed to find a way to keep my father from going to work or make him leave work early. I resolved to do something courageous that day; it was finally time to confront the girl who had bullied me for years.

I had never told my dad about the bullying. I would just sit, endure it, and cry in the middle of the night. But today was the day I decided enough was enough. It’s amazing how we can use our energy to confront what has hurt us in an effort to prevent someone else's pain.

My bully's name was Bruna, and she would taunt me every day. Her words caused an unbearable nervousness in my stomach. Today, during lunch, she walked over and said to me, "Daisy, how is your mom doing?" Those words pierced me deeply, cutting into my soul. This time, I stood up, pushed her with the strength of Xena the Warrior Princess, and swung my fist at her like I was playing in the World Series, yelling, "This is for me and Mom!"

My punch knocked Burna clean off her feet, and a staff member quickly came over, took my arm, and escorted me to the office. They called my Papa, but I felt proud of myself even though I knew it was wrong. Bruna had bullied me for years, and standing up to her helped fuel my courage to show her she wasn't the boss. When my father received the call about he left work to come get me.

Once we were in the truck, he asked, "Why Daisy?"

"Papa, Bruna has been bullying me for the last three years, and I’m just tired of it. The words she spoke pierced my soul."

He replied, "Daisy, you know we don’t resort to violence."

"I understand, Papa. But she asked, How is your Mama doing?"

He stopped the car, pulled over, looked at me, and said, "I love you, Daisy. You can defend yourself in better ways, but I do understand why you punched her." He chuckled and added, "We will do better next time." I giggled at what Papa said, feeling relieved that I had prevented the prophecy from happening that day, because he did not go back to work again.

Now it was day three, the final day when the accident was supposed to occur. I wondered how I could stop the prophecy from unfolding. I woke up with my heart racing, feeling as if there were an orange lodged in my throat. My hair was sticking up on my head like a bird’s nest. I was breathing in and out, feeling as though it wasn’t enough. What if my plan isn’t sufficient? What if no help comes? What if "heartbreak" wins over "love" today? Could I handle the trauma? Could I deal with the anxiety of not knowing if my Papa would live? Why? Why? Why me?

Is this really happening to me? Is this really my life? Has anyone experienced the feeling of trying to stop a prophecy? It doesn't have to end like this.

Uncontrollable tears streamed down my face. I felt like I had regressed to a time when Papa wept over Mama Leaving. I felt so alone, so helpless, as if someone were ripping my heart out of my chest.

I decided to take a warm bath with lavender Epson salt, hoping it would help me soak away my tears. In the back of my mind, I kept telling myself. "It doesn't have to end like this". Afterward, I got dressed for school, had breakfast, and Papa kissed me on the cheek . "Have a good day at school, darling: he said.

I walked pot of the house feeling defeated and ran as fast as I could until I couldn't see myself anymore. I then dashed into my neighbor's cornfield, heading to the same spot where I had seen the beautiful womanSitting down, I cried. I'm not going to school today. You have to do something different if you want different results. It doesn't have to end like this". So I lay there while the sun warmed my face, determined to change this prophecy.

Eventually, I got up and decided to walk to my Fathers job on the farm, which was around the corner. The farm has dark chocolate brown hills where the horses run around, and my horse, Margie, is not allowed in that area. Oh goodness, if she were there, she would startle the other horses so much that they would probably start running backwards.

I walked up one of the dark brown hills, sat at the bottom behind some bushes, and cried because I knew the prophecy was supposed to happen for sure today. I felt helpless looking up into the light blue sky. I said Is there anybody up there? I don't know much about you, God, but I need your help today." I put both of my hands on my face, bent over, and said in agony, I can't do this"!Please protect my papa. It doesn't have to end like this.

I watched as my papa worked outside near the cows, talking to one of them named Millie. Millie, who was as large as a diesel truck, refused to move."Come on, Millie Mille. "Daddy is gonna make you a big ole dinner if you move," He said. Suddenly of the corner of my eye. I saw two mountain lions running toward my father. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Was this real? My breath was caught in my chest. Panicking, I screamed from the hills, PAPA! PAPA! as loud as I could.

In an instant, Mr. David's three Great Pyrenees dogs heard my scream, saw the mountain lions, and ran towards them . At this point, the lions were only ten feet away from Papa. The dogs lunged at the mountain lions, biting one on the neck, and the other one ran back up into the hills. The mountain lions were only five feet away from my papa when the dogs reached them.

I closed my eyes for a few seconds, and when I opened them, Papa was on the ground unharmed. I ran down to the farm, and the first thing he said was, " Daisy darling, what are you doing to her?" I replied. Papa. I had a feeling you would need help today, so I came to watch over you. " He chuckled and said," It's a school day." Daisy," I responded, Daddy, I have a story to tell you about a woman with long blonde hair who came to warn me about today. I actually have a lot of stories to tell you about the past few days." He agreed, Okay, Daisy, we will talk about it when we get home, and discuss skipping school."

Papa called animal control to report what happened. He gave me a big hug. " Let's go home." It has been an eventful day. I giggled, knowing that my scream was used to alert the Great Pyrenees dogs and save my papa. I wouldn't say I stopped the prophecy, but I believe someone greater than me changed the prophecy. I received a warning with an outcome, and I kept repeating to myself, " It doesn't have to end like this.

After losing one parent, the thought of potentially losing the only one I have left motivated me to fight harder, think smarter, and appreciate each day I am given. I don't consider myself a hero, but I am truly grateful that love has triumphed over heartbreak.

Now, I'm going home with Papa to see the talking cows, sassy Margie, and loud Rickety. For this crazy, funny, amazing, heartbreaking, and loving life, I am eternally grateful.