Feelings
Feelings
by Emily Trimble
I knew he had less than an hour left to live and yet I still didn’t show up. I was in my car pulling out my gray cellphone with the cracked screen when I got the call from my mother that he was dying, that these were going to be his final moments. But after everything that happened, everything he put me through, I knew I wouldn’t, no, couldn’t face him. I had finally rid myself of that life, of the shell of the girl they knew. Yet, here they were just looking to pull me right back in after everything. I understand that we are family, but that doesn’t mean I need to be there for him ‘cause we weren’t family back then and we certainly aren’t family now. I don’t consider him one now that he’s dying either. My father is on his deathbed. He is lying in the hospital with their sad white walls and white sheets, the stench of sickness clinging to the tense air. At the same time, I’m sitting in my car, parked outside of my house, not ready to go in. I watch the minutes tick by on the digital clock in my car. I can’t help but feel relieved that after this that piece of my life, the last thing holding me to it, would finally be gone.
“I'm almost free,” I whispered to myself. I am finally ready to be rid of my past, the last thing holding me down––the last thing I needed to get rid of until I could take those first few steps of absolute and utter freedom. I put my face into the steering wheel while my body heaved up a sob at the thought of my new found freedom. The boulders of burden were about to be taken off my shoulders. It’s all in happiness, of course. It’s what needed to happen. Seconds turned to minutes, which turned to hours, that I sat in my car crying. Everything for the good. The sky was getting dark and the never ending stars came out from their hiding places. It was then that I finally got the call. The call that I knew would break me from this last chain. I picked it up and answered.
“He’s gone. He passed away a few hours ago. I’m sorry about not calling sooner. He was upset about you not wanting to see him, and I was too busy crying to think of anything else right away,” she let out. I could still hear her voice breaking as she had to say his truth out loud. I couldn’t say anything. My mouth suddenly was dry after imagining all the things I would do in this situation; this was not one of them. After a bit of silence, I hear a soft sigh and finally hear her whisper before hanging up. “I hope you can forgive me.”
This time I cried. I cried for everything: my freedom, my new life, my family. It was just after one when I left my car and walked up the steps to my red brick house. I pulled out the keys from my coat pocket and punched the door open, but I did not step inside just yet. I looked up at the sky. I looked at the stars and just felt the need to say something.
“Thank you.” I’m not sure who I was thanking at this moment, but it didn’t matter to me. As I went inside, I slipped past the kitchen, not even wanting to eat anything, went up the carpeted stairs, and into one of the two doors that rest at the top. My bedroom was dark, but I didn’t turn on the light. I knew where everything was without needing it. I walked to the window, opened the curtains, and cracked the window slightly. I sat on the floor leaning against the edge of my bed turning my phone over and over in my hands as the guilt washed over me from being so happy. There was one thing I wanted to do as I thought over her words in my head.
She said to call her anytime, but that offer was given to me years ago back when he was still around. I am not sure if it still stands, as we haven’t talked for months. I opened the phone and went to contacts. I just stared at her number, my finger hovering over the call button contemplating if I should actually press it. Would she even want to talk to me? She did say I could call her anytime. I pressed call and let out a low, shaky breath. I needed to talk to someone about this guilt I felt. I know I have every right to be happy, and I just needed to know if I should be feeling guilty in this situation. I heard the phone ring once then twice before I heard her voice ring out through the phone.
“Hello?” I freaked out and couldn’t think of anything to say so I just listened.
“Hello?” She said again but I still chose not to answer my mind racing at all the possibilities of how this conversation could go.
“Hello who is this?” That’s what made me hang up. She deleted my number and she doesn’t know who called her. She really did delete it. She gave up and removed me from her life. She really had every reason to after my father did the things he did, but my heart couldn’t handle that she would actually delete my number. I sat in the bed taking very slow and deep breaths to try to calm myself down, but they didn’t work. The tears welled up in my eyes and soon enough they spilled over. I held back a sob even though I knew no one would hear me as I cried.
I decided I needed to call again and actually talk this time. Before pressing the call button, I hovered over the number and gave myself a little bit of a pep talk. She picked up after the second ring.
“Whoever this is, please stop trying to prank call me,” she almost yelled into the phone. I let out a little chuckle staring at the wall and not at the phone sitting next to me on the cool, brown laminate floors.
“Hey. It’s Jaiden. I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, but I really wanted to talk to someone as you're the only one who knows the full situation and lived through it with me,” I let out all at once afraid of her hanging up on me. I heard shuffling and a door close on her end.
“I don’t have very long so what’s up?” She’s acting as if we haven’t talked in years. It helped me calm down a bit.
“Do you know about what happened today.”
“No, what was it? Are you okay? Did something happen?” She still cared and it was a relief to hear that.
“Dad died. I got the call a few hours ago about him dying and they were asking to see me. I refused and then I got the call that he had officially passed. I was so relieved at first for wanting freedom, but now all I feel is guilt. We went through the same thing so I was hoping we could talk about it. Please, Jenny.” I felt tears brimming in my eyes.
“He’s gone.” There was silence for a few moments before she spoke again. “It’s okay to feel that way. But you need to remember that you don’t owe him anything or need to do anything after what he put us through.” I can hear her crying on the other end.
“I’m relieved he’s gone. But I can’t stop this nagging guilt. I’m sorry for everything that happened. That you had to find out this way.”
“Jaiden, we are sisters this is probably the best way someone could have told me, by someone who went through the same things as me so we can still talk it out afterwards. I’m sorry about cutting contact. After everything that happened, I took the first out I had had. I walked away without a glance back. I’m so sorry that I didn’t even think about what would happen to you and what you were going to do.”
She was sorry. My mind went blank at thinking she was sorry when I completely understood her decision. “You don’t need to apologize. I understand. Maybe I would have even done the same thing if I was in your position. I’m glad we are speaking again. I remember you telling me that I could call at any time, but I didn’t think that it was serious and that you would just brush me off.”
“I could never just brush you off. You didn’t do anything to me, and, if anything, I should have just stuck by your side.” I could hear a baby crying in the background before Jenny let out a sigh. “His name is Mark. He’s 8 months old. I really need to go take care of him. We can talk more in the morning. I love you”
“It’s okay. Go take care of him. Love you too.” It’s been so long since I’ve heard those words, even longer since hearing her say those words. There’s so much I missed out on that I can’t wait to build up this relationship. I don’t feel guilty anymore. She really helped me even if she didn’t say much. It was as if our broken relationship was what was causing me to feel guilty. I sighed before climbing into bed under the black duvet covers with a smile on my face.