The following morning Maggie had woken up, conscious of the absence of her mother. She remembered: her father grinning dumbly, the conflict, her mother’s departure and the phone call. She didn’t want to think of it, didn’t want to know whether her mother would be safe or even alive.

A gentle jingle from downstairs disturbed the absolute silence. The terrifying ringing of their telephone started gently and a few moments later it had burst into a rapid, high melody. Maggie straightened her back immediately, not due to the sound which absolutely didn’t fit the current circumstances she was well aware of, but due to the possible importance of the phone call.

Maggie came to a decision. She ran as fast and as silent as she could to ensure that her father would stay asleep. Horrified she stood looking at her father picking it up. The phone. With a bewildered face he stood there, listening. She noticed his jaw moving up and down and she saw the changing features of his face. His expression danced between disbelief and overwhelming grief. A barely audible whisper confirmed Maggie’s darkest thoughts. It struck her like a knife jabbed deep and brutal in her heart. Her mother had died the previous night in a car accident.

From that night on Maggie didn’t know what to think of her father, though she knew that he blamed himself for the death of his wife.

The elder Maggie took a deep breath, eyes focused on the closed refrigerator door, stepped forward lifted her tense arm, reached and pulled the handle while she tried not to take notice of the black spots dancing in the corner of her eye. Her mouth opened. No bottles, no fungi-covered provisions – the refrigerator was empty. Maggie sighed, stretched and let go of the tension. The lady glanced once more inside before closing it. There. She’d failed to notice it. She had been too nervous. With wobbly fingers she managed to pick up the small piece of paper. Barely able to steady her hand she read it. Suddenly a terrified scream echoed through the house “Nooooo!! Not him too!!!” Three words were written on the beige paper: I am sorry.

Frightened, Maggie sprinted out of the house not even taking time to close the front door. She ran past the concerned neighbors and past the post office and she kept on running in the direction of Daddy’s Car wash. She practically crashed into the glass door remembering that it was nine thirty in the evening. He would be most likely sitting on the Northern Rock around this hour if he hadn’t committed s…. Not letting herself to get rid of that horrible pain in the hip she sprinted further.

There was no dark silhouette sticking out against the horizon illuminated with the last sun rays of the day. No kind, smiling face of her dad. Maggie sunk to the ground, shoulders shuddering and a waterfall of tears dropped on the grass. A faint whisper floated over her lips: “Father……”

A twig broke nearby. “Ma… Maggie… ” managed a tall man standing behind Maggie to utter. The lady’s shaking stopped immediately. Slowly she turned around. “Fa… Father!!” she cried and embraced him tight. “I love you, daddy!” The old man squeezed her hand once and replied with a tender voice: “I love you too, my dear Maggie.”

Fiction: 03/05/08 | Posted By: just.me | 6 comments | Personal