"Mia, my mother…she died in a car accident yesterday, I … I… I am all alone now, Mia. What am I to do now that she is gone? Tell me Mia… Tell me please!"
This phone call was the beginning of my own downfall. I really didn't know what to say to comfort her. Mere words couldn't bring her mother back to life, could they?
"I am so sorry to hear that, Philia… Know that I will always be by your side… You can count on my help anytime…"
I didn't get any answer. She must have realized it too; empty words won't make much of a difference.
Philia, my childhood friend, lost her mother from a very young age. It happened ten years ago, when Philia was only ten years old, a kid basically. Her father, however, offered little emotional support. He was distant, often wrapped in his work and secret hobbies.
Looking back, I was eleven years old when I met him for the first time, in the supermarket where my mother worked. He was a tall, strong and undeniably handsome, with long dark hair and piercing blue eyes. He definitely didn't seem approachable, to say the least, yet women flocked around him like bees to honey.
As soon as a beautiful lady approached him, he shamelessly took off his engagement ring and furtively put it in his back pocket.
"What a jerk!" I thought, "His poor wife must have a hard time dealing with him".
My mother noticed my disgust and disappointment. She gently stroked my hair and asked: "What's wrong Mia?"
"This young man seemed to be a respectable fellow, sadly, he is not", I replied.
She sighed softly, "I told you to never judge a book by its cover Mia…plus, this is none of our concern is it?"
"My heart aches for his wife and children, mom. How can he act this nonchalantly knowing that his actions will undoubtedly hurt his loved ones?"
My mother was taken aback, unsure of what to say. At that moment, the young man came to greet her.
"What a lovely day, Madam. I can see that the little lady is faring well?"
"Greetings, Sir Blackwood. We are well, thank you for your concern. How is Philia, is her health any better?" my mother replied politely.
Philia! I couldn't believe that this human abomination was her father! She was seven years old at that time. Her frail body prevented her from playing with children her age, so I was one of the few playmates who would visit her. However, it had been months since I last heard from her.
"Is something the matter, child? You seem a bit pale," he said, noticing me standing there.
"I… I am fine, sir", I replied forcing a smile, "I was just worried about Philia. When can I meet her again?"
"Soon, I promise", he answered while glancing at his watch, "I am afraid I must leave you for now, have a nice day!"
I could no longer disguise my disdain for this man. Wandering around and flirting with other women, while his only daughter is bedridden, cannot possibly be acceptable.
My mother sensed my unease and pulled me into a tight hug, whispering in my ear, "The world is not as kind as you are Mia. Promise me you will stay as you are no matter what, okay?"
"I promise!"
At that time, I was certain to hold onto my promise. But fate, it seemed, had other plans for me.
As years passed, Philia's health was getting better, so I began to see her more regularly. We spent hours in the garden, building cities for ants using flower petals and fallen leaves.
"Oh no! The royal palace collapsed!" she shouted
"It's okay! I will help you rebuild it! I said with a reassuring voice.
"What about the ants trapped inside? Poor things, they are buried alive! She cried with teary eyes.
Her joyful soul was one of a kind. She must have taken after her mother. A gentle and delicate woman that was always there for her family. Yes, even for her ungrateful husband, she was doing her best to please his insatiable soul.
Since her mother's passing, I made sure to be a perfect older sister to Philia. I visited her daily, bringing sweets and delicious pastries. She never once stopped smiling at my face. I knew that her spirit was in turmoil, yet, I tried to overlook it. Her father barely came home, and when he did, he brought prostitutes along. His presence was a heavy burden on Philia and made my healing attempts feel utterly in vain.
One day, I decided to spend the night at her place to keep her company. Her house was quite small. Her room wasn't far from her parent's room, so everything can easily be heard.
"I am really sorry Mia, Father has a guest tonight, we might not get a quiet night today", said Philia bitterly.
Loud laughter, strange noises and disturbing voices, were unbearable to hear, yet Philia seemed unbothered, as if she had grown accustomed to such atrocities. Luckily, we managed to sleep somehow. We talked all night, reminiscing about past memories, until words eventually ran dry. In the middle of the night, I heard a strange sound in the kitchen. Without hesitation, I discreetly peered outside. Her father was standing, dressed in a white bathrobe, by the kitchen sink. His long unruly hair was hiding his complexion, but the sharp, penetrating smell of alcohol was unmistakable.
"What is it? Are you here to eliminate me?", he lamented in a sarcastic voice.
Cain Blackwood was a police investigator, and being constantly on his guard had become second nature to him. I was told he'd killed three criminals during interrogations just last week. His short temper made him feared both by his peers and by outlaws. Despite this, he was known to be a fair and just man. His cold-heartedness was praised, as it allowed him to be impartial in the most emotionally charged situations. Never once has he been seen weak, or uncertain. He was, indeed, a formidable heir of the Blackwood family.
Philia probably hadn't bothered to inform him of my presence, since he was "busy".
"I heard strange sounds, so I came out to check", I said steadily. Have a good night, Sir Blackwood." I added, turning back.
"Tell me, Mia, am I a good father?" he asked without looking at me.
Hearing his question made me wonder if he accidentally eavesdropped on our conversation earlier.
Answering him honestly while he was drunk wasn't the best idea, but it may be my only chance to make a positive change in Philia's life. After all, having a face to face meeting like that is quite rare.
"Well, considering the loss of her mother, Philia is a bit lonely", I said, keeping my voice confident. "She needs you now more than ever, sir. Inviting women over is only deepening the rift between you two and worsening both your sufferings."
"…"
"You are all she has..."
I could see his posture stiffen at my words. He stepped toward me, slowly, deliberately, clenching his fists. He didn't respond immediately, which made the atmosphere around us grow thicker with every second.
I took a step back, but he moved forward again, cornering me against the wall. My pulse quickened. Was I ready to face the storm I provoked? As Philia's forced smile and frail voice flashed in my mind, my resolve hardened. My feet stayed rooted on the ground, unwilling to retreat.
"All she has, huh?" his voice was trembling, "What about me?"
His sudden outburst caught me off guard. I could see a deep bitterness in his eyes, lurking beneath a surface of clear anger.
"I lost my beloved wife you know, my beloved Lucia!" he spat painfully.
As he stood there, I remembered the supermarket incident. His flirtations, his casual disregard for his wife, how can he possibly claim that he loved her? My eyes, despite myself, betrayed me, flickering with disdain instead of offering comfort.
"You…" he spat in an even voice. "Your candor has always annoyed me to the utmost." He took a step forward, his shadow casting an oddly soothing veil over the tension in the room. "But …", his voice softened slightly, "Your loyalty to my daughter is what lets me tolerate your presence."
A heavy silence followed, broken only by the sound of his labored breathing. His coughs were getting more violent, each one shaking his frame as he struggled to maintain his composure.
His words were impregnated with sorrow and sincerity, but I couldn't back down now. I had to pull Philia out of her unspoken abyss. I kept my gaze locked on his, though I felt my body tense and my resolve falter, tempted to flee.
"You think that inviting women over will make you forget your pain? It won't… You need to be here for Philia now… For both your sakes. For you family's sake."
I should've stopped here. His hands were trembling with anger, and tears appeared in his eyes. Clearly, he was a man who had never fully mourned, considering himself unworthy of it.
My words echoed in the house, and in an instant, his eyes flashed with murderous intent. He strangled me violently, not allowing me to utter another word. He tightened his grip as he growled: "Don't you dare lecture me kid! Your boldness won't do you any good. If you want to live in peace, I suggest you stay out of my sight, and away of my daughter!"
I could barely breathe, caught in the grip of his fury and grief. His eyes gleamed with a mix of pain and rage. He was in war with his inner self, unable to control himself.
"Tell me, don't I deserve someone too? His voice cracked with despair. "My wife is gone; my family shattered… and all you can do is judge me?"
As he shoved me harder, I could feel the sweat on my brow and my heart hammering in my chest. His wet hair was slightly brushing my arms as I was trying to free myself from his firm grip, sending goosebumps down my skin. Looking at his tearful eyes, I stopped resisting, thinking that this was the price to pay for my cruel words.
Suddenly, he staggered back, clutching his chest as a violent cough ripped through him, splattering blood all over the counter. His furious face twisted into something far worse, a look of defeat.
He released me, as his coughing grew more severe. I stood there, speechless, trying to steady myself by leaning against the wall. He seemed unfazed by the large amount of blood he had just coughed up.
Quivering, he fumbled through his robe pockets for a tissue, and a medication tablet fell to the ground. Only one pill remained. I grabbed it to take a closer look. It was headache medication.
"Stay back!" he wheezed in barely audible voice.
"Father! Father! Are you alright?" Philia screamed with all her might
"Philia, why aren't you in bed? You should be resting…" he stammered, in pain, "Or is it because of her, that you stayed up late?"
"No, Father! I heard voices in the kitchen, so I thought that…"
Cough, cough
"Here, have some water."
Furiously, he shoved my hand away, causing me to drop the glass of water.
"You are not as smart as you think, Mia! hahaha…" He laughed, his voice growing manic, "I took the whole tablet to finally be free! Hahaha… Free do you hear me, hahaha… Free from those haunting voices rooted in my mind hahaha…." He paused for a moment, staring out the window. Then, he added: "I will finally join Lucia, beg for her forgiveness and…"
Apparently, it was her presence that kept him clinging to this fleeting world of suffering. Only her presence. When he came home, he found comfort in her warmth and smile, even if he exchanged it for nothing more than a cold glance.
This time he coughed up his lungs, splattering his white robe.
His gazed softened, for the first time, when his eyes met Philia's, who was desperately trying to call for help.
"Do not cry, Philia, you never really liked me to begin with. This friend of yours can lift your misery…She is more trustworthy than I am."
Philia cried bitterly. It was true that she never held her father in high regard, but still, he was her father. My heart grew heavy as the stench of blood filled the air. For a brief instant, I felt a shred of guilt over the situation. Bringing me up into this situation, as his strength faded away, made me feel miserable.
He slowly advanced toward his daughter, ignoring the shattered glass on the floor that pierced his bare feet with a sharp, rhythmic crunch.
"I am truly sorry, Philia. Please understand my last wish and let me die in peace. Can't you smile for me as you always did for your mother?"
Philia was wrecked. She didn't smile, as if she had forgotten how, but hugged her father as tightly as she could. She desperately wanted to scream with all her might: "Don't leave me too, Father! Please…", but she couldn't. I could see it in her eyes. She hesitated to call him father since he was always bothered by it.
When she was a child, he had always seen her as a weakness, a humiliation to the Blackwood family, renowned for their intellect and physical strength. Calling him 'Father' was nearly blasphemous to him.
He dropped his shoulders, resting his head on his daughter's shoulder, defeated, as if those last words were too heavy for him to bear. Her warm embrace was the last thing he felt in this world.