Partition

1. Partition

My father drove me to Richard’s house on a cold, November evening. The heating in his car was broken, so we sat shivering, neither one of us attempting to make conversation. I stared out the window at the stars. The sky was full of stars that night, millions of them, glimmering away oblivious to everything that was happening on earth; they just continued shining. I envied their persistence, they weren’t as weak and pathetic as I was. They wouldn’t have given up like me. I looked away from them with jealousy and glanced over at Dad. He focused on the road, his eyes staring straight ahead firmly. His hands were tense on the steering wheel and he breathed slowly and heavily.

I look a lot like my father; we have the same dark hair and deep, green eyes. It’s surprising how two people who look so similar could be so different. My father has always been confident and likeable. He just has a way of making everybody adore him, a skill that I regretfully admit have never possessed. Whenever my Dad walks into a room, it’s as if the whole place immediately becomes flooded with happiness and laughter. Even when he’s feeling upset, he will always ,have the time to make others laugh; he says that he’s just a good actor. I, on the other hand have a horrible trait of bringing misfortune wherever I go, it just seems to linger on me like a companion that I can’t shrug off. I’ve always been unlucky; bad things just seem to follow and attach themselves to me. Sadly, I’ve always been the one person that Dad could never make happy, and he, the one person who my bad luck always seemed to affect the most…

“I really am sorry, Helena,” Dad finally said, staring straight forward, his face expressionless.

“I know you are, Dad,” I said reassuringly

“I never thought everything would end up like this, I swear I didn’t,” he slammed on the brakes suddenly and narrowly avoided a fox which ran out into the road, staring at Dad’s headlights with a bemused look upon its face. It strolled across the road casually and Dad drove on, cursing under his breath. I looked over at him before I spoke; his face was blank and completely unreadable.

“Neither did I, Dad,” I said truthfully

“I’m the parent,” he sighed, “I’m meant to protect you. I’m meant to be the reliable one,” he began to shift the gear stick aggressively. The gear stick had always jammed in Dad’s land rover ever since I could remember; I smiled slightly as he finally managed to change the gear smoothly.

“I need to get a new gearbox,” he said. I rolled my eyes; he’d been saying that ever since he’d bought the car ten years ago.

“Children can protect their parents too, Dad,” I leant over and put my hand on his shoulder considerately.

“You’re too good, Helena,” he exhaled softly, “you can’t be my kid, you’re too perfect.”

“Every parent thinks that about their children,” I smiled, “and I am your kid, Dad… I’m proud to be”

“Not as proud as I am of you,” Dad pulled over the car outside Richard’s house and leant over and kissed me on the forehead, briefly and almost, too formally.

“You don’t hate me for doing this, do you?” I asked seriously.

He leant back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest slowly. He seemed to take ages before he answered. I imagined the thoughts running around in his head; for a moment, I imagined everything all too thoroughly. I considered my decision. How could I be so selfish to leave him alone when he needed me so much?

…But I knew that I couldn’t, my decision was final, and I couldn’t have doubts. How weak would I seem to go back on my choice now? It was for the best, I was sure of it.

“I don’t hate you. You’re my daughter and I love you, I always will,” Dad spoke each word with such precision, it was almost as if he were reading it off of a script.

“Richard is going to look after me,” I placed a hand on his reassuringly, “don’t worry”

“Are you sure about that?” Dad chewed on his lip with uncertainty.

“He’s my brother, Dad…” I said abruptly, offended at his doubts of my brother’s capability “…and anyway, he offered to look after me, it’s not as if I’m going to be a burden”

“I know that, I still feel guilty though…”

“…No, Dad!” I raised my voice, “Don’t feel guilty”

“I’m your Dad. You should be living with me,” he pulled his hand away from mine and cracked his knuckles; something he always did when he was feeling tense.

“We can’t live together anymore, Dad. We’ll end up killing one another!” I said honestly.

“I guess your right” he looked down, “I’ll still see you, wont I?”

“I’ll come and visit you all the time, Dad. Trust me, its better this way. You’re still my Dad and I’m still your daughter. I promise you our relationship will be so much better like this,” I smiled at him, “we wont hurt each other like we do now, will we?”

“Do I hurt you?” Dad snapped suddenly. He folded his arms across his chest protectively; his eyes burnt into mine with a rigid stare.

“Well… Dad... we both hurt each other. We always argue, we just clash with each other, don’t we?” I said quickly, feeling uncomfortable and vulnerable with Dad’s eyes fixed on mine. His expression began to soften slowly, he dropped his gaze and unfolded his arms. I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“You’re right,” he nodded his head slowly, “this can just be temporary, can’t it? Until we both sort ourselves out and then maybe, we’ll be able to live together more…” he struggled to find the right word, “…peacefully,” he looked up at Richard’s house, breathing in through his nose slowly as if he was feeling nauseous.

“Of course it can, Dad,” I smiled. I leant over and gave him a quick hug. He kissed me on the top of my head lovingly. Our relationship was so volatile that I treasured the rare, affectionate times like this; he put his arms around me and held me just as he used to do when I was younger. Memories of my happy childhood came flooding back to me and tears prickled my eyes, but I fought them back determinedly, not wanting to make it any harder than it already was.

Dad finally pulled away and for a moment his face showed real emotion, but it quickly regained its usual blank composure. He cleared his throat loudly and looked at me apprehensively.

“Richard’s waiting for you” he said plainly

“Oh… right… yes…” I stuttered, fiddling with the door handle on the passenger’s side so I could let myself out.

“That door sticks sometimes,” Dad said, “You’ll have to give it a big push”

“I know that it sticks, Dad,” I rolled my eyes, “I’ve been using it for the last ten years”

“Of course,” Dad blushed, “I forgot”

I pushed the door forcefully and it swung open. It was bitterly cold outside and my eyes watered as the wind blew into the car vigorously. I blinked away the moisture quickly in case Dad thought I might’ve been crying. I heaved myself reluctantly out of the warmth of the land rover and into the cold. I closed the door carefully behind me and looked back at Dad hopefully. I don’t know what I was hoping for, maybe for him to beg me to stay and tell me that he could not live his life without me; for a second I regretted convincing him so much earlier to accept my decision. I wanted him to walk me up to the house but he remained in the car tapping his fingertips on the steering wheel. I trudged up the path slowly, it seemed to take me forever; the wind stabbed at me like a hundred knives and my feet reluctantly pushed on forward. By the time, I reached the front door, Dad had driven off, and I heard the familiar hum of the land rover disappear into the distance. I looked back, only to see the bare space where it had been. I suddenly felt empty, as if I was only a shell. It seemed as though he’d driven away with my heart, my mind, even my memories… everything. At that moment, I didn’t know if I would see Dad again; our parting had seemed so final. The only thing that threw me was, I don’t think I cared if I saw him again or not, and whatever it was that caused that thought absolutely terrified me...