Meet My Characters! Dan Atherton, Part II

Dan Atherton
(Two years ago)

I grew lost in my thoughts. The fantasy of what might have been haunts me. Her eyes had been still like the night, beckoning me for answers I didn’t have. In a flash, she drifted farther from me until I could no longer reach for her. And no matter how hard I strained my ears, I couldn’t hear her beautiful sounds any longer. The silence swarming around me began to strangle me slowly.

The tender touch of her tiny fingers had faded from my memory by now. The fever started to run through my body like I’d never felt before. Was she thinking of me at this same moment? So fragile in my arms, she was too young still. She couldn’t possibly know my face by heart or look up at the empty doorway in the hopes to find me there each morning. My little baby girl, she’d never know how much I searched for her face everywhere I would go. Or understand the sleepless nights that took over, when I dared not stop watching the front door.

I sat in the darkness of the early morning hours, just waiting. The redness invaded my eyes, sweat beaded across my cheeks as I waited in despair. If I closed my eyes for a mere second, I could already see her mother towering over me. Mora’s knuckles would be clenched until white, her lips sealed in her bitterness. Without any words, I could already feel her hatred passing over me like dark clouds before a hard rainstorm. Just look at you. Look at how pathetic you are.

Mora. She’d never let me forget what I desperately wanted to leave behind. Her shrill voice was recorded forever in my mind. The pulsing fear of seeing her again paralyzed me. For days and then weeks, I couldn’t step outside my front door. Her poison ran through my veins with a lasting effect. Broken glass and the stink of spilled beer and milk still lay scattered across my living room. My entire house stayed dark and frozen from their last visit, completely unmoved by time. What the hell kind of father are you? Every time I glanced at the far wall, I could watch Mora slamming her right hand across the wooden table, sending everything crashing down to the floor. My mouth didn’t seem to work, I couldn’t form the right words before she took my daughter away for the last time.

Fuck it. Fuck it. I opened my refrigerator, sweeping my arms back and forth on the two frosted shelves. Whatever sad jars, bottles, and takeout containers were left standing got wiped out. I fell on my ass on the cold tiles, knocking the back of my head on the cabinets behind me.

I’m no father, I never should’ve been. The words resonated so naturally through every inch of my body, there was no denying it. The hope of what could’ve been left long ago. The only thing that remains is survival. My legs fumbled beneath me, and I awkwardly stumbled onto my feet. I snatched open the freezer, grabbing the ice-covered glass neck sticking out of the icebox. Not much time passed before I found myself in a daze, slowing drifting in and out of consciousness.

My baby drifted far from thought, her face became a blur. I was not her father. I was nothing more than Dan.