~Harry’s View~
How can I do this alone? I can’t handle three kids by myself, Maya can’t stand the site of me, Nick is always out with friends, Darcie is the only one that I am sort of close with. Maybe she can talk to Maya, but I must have gone wrong somewhere. My 12 year old daughter drinks alcohol. Where did I fail? I walked upstairs and knocked on Darcie’s door, she was singing moments, her voice was so angelic, yet she never wanted to share it, I don’t think she wanted me to know her secret.
“Come in!” she yelled.
“Want to go out to breakfast? I don’t feel like cooking, and I think Nick slept out last night, and well Maya…..she’s still sleeping…” She smiled as I told her this.
“Sure dad” was all she said.
We walked into the diner around the corner. Immediately I was noticed and asked to take pictures, but I told everyone I was here with my daughter, and maybe another time.
“So what’s going on with Maya?” Darcie asked me.
“I was hoping you could help me…..” I went on and told her about the previous night and how Maya acted. She didn’t seem surprised at all.
“Why don’t you send her to therapy or something?”
It didn’t seem that bad of an idea, but the sound of therapy just makes me want to scream. But maybe it would be good for Maya, she could talk to someone about me, and mostly how she misses her mother.
“How was the date with KJ?” I asked her, her face lit up and I could tell she didn’t want to tell me.
“It was really nice, he’s so sweet”
“So basically you kissed him?” I asked her. She turned bright red.
“Dad you don’t ask questions like that!” We both laughed and I paid for the food, feeling better about myself.
We went home; as soon as I walked in I could hear Maya’s music throughout the house. I went into her room, the next thing I knew she was screaming at me.
“Get out of my fucking room!” I was shocked, but I had to discipline her. Right? I walked over to her and took her iPhone from her.
“You wanna have a mouth like that? Then no more phone for you. You’re 12 years old Maya, not 22. You respect me.” I yelled at her, she started to hit me.
“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” she was pounding her fists on my chest, she repeated herself about 15 more times, until she broke out into tears.
“I can’t do this anymore, I hate you! You can’t take away my stuff! She kept hitting me, and I let her. I took her hands and put them down to her sides. Her face was streaming with tears now, and she kept whispering “I hate you.”
I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her, she surprised me and hugged back, still whispering “I hate you” and still breaking my heart.