Fallout

She was looking out the window from the moving car. Her father was driving with the usual expertise that she knew her entire life, but she did not want to see her father’s face, which is why the seat behind the driver’s was her haven. There was rage electrifying the air; she knew she had nothing to do with it, but somehow, there was a feeling pooling deep inside. She did something wrong to bring the rage to the surface. There were signs, knuckles getting hard on the steering wheel, his nose making noises signalling deep breaths.

When her father parked the car right on the side of the curb, their usual space, she could not understand the urge to break the silence she felt. The journey was silent; her pyjamas were still on her, and she left the sleepover just as the sun arrived. Her hair messy, clothes are tucked in her backpack hurridly.

She said “Thank you,” breaking the tense air with her weak voice. Her father did not look at her way, did not respond. He probably did not understand or heard her gratitude but she knew that “Thank you” was the easiest way to test the waters. Her feet dragged on the floor as she made her way to the stairs to their apartment after closing the car door. Her father was quick to leave the car to open the front door of the house. She was still dragging her feet, trying to delay the moments of confrontation. She still knew there was nothing wrong that she could have possibly done, but still found the nagging guilt. “Why am I not enough to keep them together?”

When she arrived at the open door, her mother was there to see her with a face like a ghost. She seemed tired, defeated. She shook off the shoes from her feet to enter. She could not meet the eyes of her mother. She made her way into her room directly. Her mother followed. Asked about the sleepover that she joined before she and her friends graduated high school. She said some words to describe the party, but they felt flat. The truth was, she was supposed to have fun, but she did not.

The grapevine was vast across her eyes, smiling wide while her friends carried the meat for the barbecue, the wine that they were gonna share as they celebrate being adults, and some chairs to sit around the fire. She was holding the wish lantern. “Do we suppose to light this in this field, what if a fire starts?” Her friend shrugged his shoulders: “It is going to extinguish before it reaches the ground, I don't know, I did not invent them, I haven't heard of any fire-related accidents about them. I am sure it is going to be fine. It is always fine in the movies.” He smiled widely.

She had a lovely evening after their dinner. Everyone was trying to take some pictures to reminisce about their university years. She posed, hands up in the air, yelling, “Graduated!”

While everyone was sitting around the fire, playing a made-up game that they invented, she was staring at her phone. Her brother’s text asking for help. “Sis, help. Mom went crazy.”

After that text, the night did not feel the same; she knew the safe, happy picture was ruined by something. At home, kilometres away from her, something had happened to shift the course of their lives. She was away from home, away from the damage. She was sitting around the fire with her friends, having fun, while her brother was begging for help with a quick text.

She obsessively asked her mother about the text her brother had sent. ”What is the meaning of this, Mom? Is something going on?”

“Mom, answer me, can my dad pick me up, please? I want to be at home.”

“Mom, is Dad at home or did he leave?”

There was no answer until the morning, when her mother said everything was alright, her dad was going to pick her up first thing in the morning.

The ‘sleepover’ part of the night went terribly, with her being unable to sleep, thinking, turning all night to understand the smoking wreckage that her father had left at home.

Now, her mother was beside her in her bed, holding her close, trying to explain what had happened between her and her father. She was silent the whole time listening to her mother’s explanation. Her mother said, “Everything is over, he is going to leave.”

When he appeared on the door, she knew she was supposed to ask a bunch of questions. “Why do you want to leave? Are we not enough?”, “Don't you know my birthday wish was us being together and happy?” he signalled the mother to leave; he wanted to speak with her alone.

His first words were not an explanation; it was an accusation.

“What did you do?” her father yelled. She didn’t understand the meaning behind his question. He was the one who cheated on her mother, now he was asking as if she was the one who convinced him to leave for her. “Nothing!” she said angrily. She didn’t tear apart their family, he had no right to question her.

“I was supposed to handle this silently, I was supposed to fix it,” her father said. His eyes didn’t belong to the jokester she once knew; this man was completely strange, terrifying.

“I didn’t do anything.” Said she silently. “Did you tell your mother?” he asked.

She knew what he meant. There were text messages, a fake social media profile, e-mails, voice recordings, and photos of them, him and that woman. She found them with her mother a while ago, yes, but didn’t break their family over obvious proof of his infidelity.

He leaned close, and she was scared to death. Was he going to hit her?

“Did you tell your mother? Answer me!” he said again. She met his eyes, took a deep breath, and told the truth. “My mom has the mind to find it out herself; she got help from everyone around her. No, I didn’t tell her; she already knew.”

Her father’s plans were shattered with the revelation, when she was unaware of the turmoil at home, her mother was yelling at her father about the affair she knew. She couldn’t hold on any longer. With her daughter gone for the night, it was the best time. She didn’t plan the outburst or the fists hitting his chest, demanding an acknowledgement of the unfairness he caused, but it happened. Now with her at home, the outburst shifted the target; her father decided to hurt someone unrelated to the mess, punishing her for the mess he caused.

Finally deciding it was enough to interrogate her, he left without saying anything. She was left alone with the feeling of her family coming apart, her unable to hold them together with her birthday wish.

Her mother didn’t say anything, already deciding that it was enoguh to drag her into the matter, looked at her lying figure and left the place she leaned to the door frame.

The last thing she heard before she fell asleep was the door her father slammed, leaving them for good. She never saw her father again.