I woke up sleeping on my left. Dad had placed his mobile on the bed side table from which I checked the time. It was 6 pm. I rolled to my right and looked out the window. It was dark, like winter. People had hung various lights on their houses to celebrate the Christmas spirit. Kids came out on their yards and completed their decorations for the festival. Aunts and uncles made home visits. People were giving and taking.All of that made the dull atmosphere more lively.  

I looked up. Dad had his head awkwardly resting on the wall and was snoring softly. I let a small smile play on my lips. I slowly got up to a siting position. My mind started running on what limb should I move so he is in a more comfortable position. 

Suddenly, his eyes shot open and, "Ashley!-" He gasped and so did I.

"What happened?" I asked, scrunching my eyebrows.

He sighed and shook his head, "Nothing." He leaned forward to pull me in a hug. I rested my head on his neck hoping that the both of us could forget yesterday like nothing really happened. I shut my eyes close hoping that something - some miracle - would happen, but as reality goes, nothing did. I bit my lip. Dad sighed and parted the hug.

He looked out of the window and asked in a bewildered tone, "What time is it?" I replied six. He rubbed his hands and got out of the bed.

"Let's unpack the petite bag of yours first and then we can go out to get some more clothes. You are staying with me from now on." He said with a smile.

I scooted towards the edge of the bed. "You don't have to-"

"Then where else are you going to go? To some orphanage?" He sighed. "I am willing to have you here, then why do you want to run away?" He asked placing himself beside me and softly caressing my hand with his thumb.

I looked down to hide my face as my eyes started getting wet. In my head, I knew I was a burden and no one could convince me otherwise. If anything, I didn't need Dad to be the one taking care of this burden. Wouldn't it be lovey if someone said some magical words and I could just... disappear. I didn't know how to say that to him. Usually, I'd answer any question but at least some satisfying answer, be it right or wrong. My tongue was having some sort of a muscle cramp, I'm sure.

He slumped his back to fall down to my face level. He held my chin with his free hand and gave it a slight tilt towards his face.

"Sweetheart, I think you just call me your Dad because that is what you know since your birth - to call this man your father. I don't think you have quite understood that I am, in fact, your Dad." He said and I smiled. "I am responsible of your happiness, your well-being, your safety and all those things. Besides, what am I going to do living in this house alone?" He shrugged and I shook my head at his childish way of convincing me.

He held my shoulders and looked at me with soft eyes. "You can demand things from me. I will try to comply as much as I can. You are not a burden... or a liability or anything of that sorts." At this point, I was feeling the stinging flow of tears pouring out of my eyes. I felt bad at how desperately I wanted someone to say those words to me. I hated it. But there I was, getting completely sentimental at those simple words.

He continued, "You are my-" He stopped and I could see where he was heading to.

I smiled shaking my head, "Don't ruin this, Dad."

"You are my precious." He said, hissing the 's'. I shook my head again and went in for a hug. He patted my back and kissed my forehead.

*** 

After spending a few minutes in unpacking, and arranging all the books that I had carried in my hands, I emptied my jeans pocket and placed my phone beside the lamp but held the Disney watch in my hand. I kept looking at it. My mind was blank. Dad came over to examine and gasped looking at the broken glass exterior.

"Can you read the time from that?" He asked with a snort.

I nodded my head.

"We can get a new one, if you want."

I looked up at him and said, "No, this one is too precious for me." By too precious, I had meant that I didn't deserve it, but who could understand that. 

"Are you ready to go shopping, Ash?"

I shrugged. Don't get me wrong but I had always been the person who was big on saving money. Besides, I didn't have that much of allowance to go shopping per say. The only money I miserly spent was to get Adrian a gift on his birthday and on Christmas. 

I sighed (I seemed to be doing that a lot) and walked with Dad. 

We drove to the mall where we walked in to various stores and Dad got me various casuals (he, surprisingly, had a very good fashion sense. I guess). He also let me go into a lingerie store and buy some of my undergarments while he stayed out. We ate some junk and then strolled some more. Dad also insisted that I should buy some casual accessories to which I pointed out that I wouldn't be needing them any time soon but he won't hear it.

In the end he took me to an extravagant store which had really fancy dresses. As I walked in, frills and laces hit my face. The store had luxurious cocktail gowns and glittery party dresses. They were made for women of all shapes. There were dresses of leather, denim, felt and such. The store also had an exhibit for jewelry and shoes. There were various radiant colors which caught any viewers eye. Sure as hell, the designers were creative.

I raised my eyebrow inquisitively, "What are we doing here?"

"So... New Year is coming and my office has this party and I am not leaving you home alone. So, we are here." He nodded as he said.

I shook my head as I got dragged by Dad. "Why?" I whined.

Dad was accompanied with a lady who was slightly younger than him. She pitched in her reviews about his dress selection. Dad didn't mind her much, in fact he went on to take her opinions and modify his selection accordingly.  After strolling for more than forty five minutes and Dad struggling to get a great dress, we went to the dressing room. There were sparkling dresses filled with glitter and sequins or black and purple colors. Most of them were bodycon with one dress with flares.

Dad gave me the order of dresses arranging the five of them in order of his preference. I went in and tried my first dress. It was beautiful, I bet, but something about it seemed off. I kept staring at the reflection for hours to go and it was staring at me. Just a plain body with dim eyes and lost spark on face. 

The dress hugged my curves and came up to my knees, but for me... I just... I can't even say. I just looked bland. I had no charisma whatsoever. That dress just felt as if a load was placed on my body. As if a whole different person, a more confident and energetic Ash, was trying to cling onto my body but my body won't have it.

And then I saw the problem. There were just way too many scars on my body. No they weren't visible to anyone. Just me. Scratches and bite marks went all the way down to my body. My body was too pale, like a ghost except I was the one shivering with fear. My hands fell limp besides my stature. I looked like one of those bland carvings that would be sold in an antique shop but no one would buy them because they weren't worth it. 

It seemed as if my reflection was screaming at me, blaming me for my state. Telling me it was my fault that anything ever happened.

People always advised that to boost your confidence, you should talk to yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror. But my reflection had different plans altogether. 

We bought a dark purple dress that went all the way down to my feet. It was a beautiful dress, but I particularly didn't know how I felt about it. I didn't think anything in was ever going to make me look pretty with ever hit that my body had taken, every damage that was done on it.

***

On 31st December, Dad took me out to the zoo that I had been to when I was younger. We went there late in the morning. It was a long drive to the zoo from Dad's home. He played our favorite songs and encouraged me to sing them out loud with him. Dad sung his favorite songs with crazy passion and I liked to humor myself by watching him. The entrance of the zoo was repainted to give its sheen back. It was highly nostalgic to go there. Even though I was 15, Dad made sure that he had an eye on me.

We went to the same gorilla cage. I dived in to get a closer look. There some new additions but I recognized one that I had seen when I was younger. I don't know how, but I knew it was the same. I let myself slip a smile. I looked at Dad and his eyes lit up to see me smile. He couldn't find out the gorilla so I took the opportunity to tease him by calling him old. He feigned annoyance, squeezing his eyelids and giving an extra taut smile, just like he did when I was younger. It was always better to look at the happier times.

Dad and I spent our entire afternoon in the zoo, eating and resting at intervals. Dad stirred his conversations to every direction possible and cleverly avoiding the one I didn't want to talk about and for some time, I felt lost in that zoo too. It was like I was a completely different being, an observer of the life around me, mostly. I had no attributes whatsoever. I was neither happy nor sad. Neither wanting nor satisfied. I was just... there. And I loved it that way.

We went back to his house at around two. Dad insisted on us baking something. I proposed that the something be something small and easy so we have sufficient time to leave for the party on time. So, we baked half a dozen cupcakes and Dad insisted that we make three different frosting for them.

At four, he took me to tour the neighborhood. He said that now that I was going to live there, I should be knowing some basic locations. He seemed assured that I would discover the rest on my own. We only moved around close by areas. Also, snow.

Dad lived in the heart of the neighborhood, ergo,we were mostly surrounded by houses. We had to walk a lot to get to any damn place. The nearest was the public park. That park was huge for its size. Dad forgot his original intention of strolling around the whole area and resorted to the park. I snorted at that. My Dad was either a mature adult or a baby. There was no in between.

The park was divided in many parts, each part for a different form of exercise. There was a small clearing for yoga and a bigger clearing for football. The park also had kids' playground equipment to keep them content and opposite to that were some benches for the old aged. The park was cleverly planned to satisfy everyone's needs. It had a vibe of positivity and freshness.

After a long stroll, we sat down. Dad got a call and walked away to accept it, excusing himself. I sat and looked at the children who didn't let the snow hinder their joy. In fact, they made it their source of entertainment. They enjoyed throwing snowballs at each other. Some of them even got creative and start making something out of snow (that was definitely not a snowman). Some made snow angels and some were busy destroying them. Their laughter filled up the space. I smiled, remembering all the times that I had laughed that hard with my parents. They were some memories.

I was so lost in my own thought that I didn't see a guy sit a safe distance beside me.

"Do you have some water?" He asked.

I was immediately drawn out of my trance. He was dressed in his gym gear and was panting hard. Might have been out for a jog. 

"No." I replied.  

That's when I analysed the features of his being. He had olive skin and curly but fluffy mob of hair. He had a good built just like an athlete or a sports person which would explain his jogging in that weather. But the most spectacular feature of his entire body were his eyes. One of his eye and half of the other was blue and the remaining was green. He had heterochromia iridium. His eyes were so enchanting (in the artistic kind of way) that I would have kept staring at them if a kid on the playground wouldn't have screamed loudly.

"You're new here?" He asked raising his eyebrow.

"Yes." I replied with a small smile. After that, silence stayed between us like a stagnant glacier.

"I didn't mean to be a creep." His voice was hurried an apologizing as if he didn't spit his speech out in the next few seconds, he would die. "I just thought that - you know - I should just talk since you're new here and everything and I should intro-"

"What is your name?" I asked with a mild giggle but he didn't feel offended by it, in fact he smirked back.

"Jaydon. What's yours?"

That's when my Dad loudly screamed my name to call me over. "ASHLEY!"

I chuckled and got up from my seat. "Ashley." I replied, but before leaving a made a point to say, "Nice eyes."

***

I knew what Dad was doing. He was keeping me busy so at no point of time I could think about my gashes. I genuinely enjoyed every minute that I spent with him, but how long could he keep pushing the topic away; at some point of time it was going come attacking me like a sudden hail storm.

Dad had instructed me to get ready for the party. We had also collected specific pieces of jewelry to match the dress. He was eager on seeing the complete look. I sighed and climbed up to my room. 

The dress was a halter neck and then flowed all the way down to my feet. It was tightly fit on my chest and freely flowed the rest. The bust was black and then it mixed with shades to purple to give it an ombre effect. The dress was beautiful, there was no doubt to that, but it wasn't made for me. But still, I tried to make amends with it. I put on the pieces of jewelry and tied my hair in a bun. I wore the matching heels and walked straight down to meet my Dad because had I looked in the mirror, I wouldn't have stopped crying.

My head hung low as I carefully walked down the stairs. Dad had donned a suit and was waiting patiently for me on the couch. When he heard the clicking of the heels, he shot up and walked towards the stairs.

From my peripheral vision I could see him smiling ear to ear but for some reason that made me sad. My breath started getting hitched and my throat started getting caught up. Suddenly, I felt that my entire being was just plainly revolting. My walk didn't have any power and my hands were shaking beside me.

"Jesus Christ! Ashley, you look beautiful." And that's when it stung. No! You're lying! You are fucking lying! He went on complementing the various elements of my look, praising how everything was set to perfectly. Stop! Please, just stop. I lost all my control over my sensations - physical and emotional. I fell on my knees crying. I hid my face with both my hands from anyone who would want to see it.

Dad bent down to my level without skipping a beat. He persistently kept asking what was wrong, but I couldn't hear his voice- I was drained in my own. When he understood that I wasn't going to speak, he stopped trying and started caressing my back in gentle circles. Somewhere in that action, he read my mind and knew precisely what was wrong. He waited patiently for me to calm down.

When I finally calmed down, I just laid my head on his shoulder. I just wanted to run. Where? I didn't know that myself. Just... away from... I didn't know that either. I just wanted to run to wherever my legs could take me. Dad had already opened up the bun on my head to release the tension.

He was slowly caressing my hair and humming a tune. I precisely remembered that tune fro my childhood. Once, when I was in second grade, our teacher decided to show us The Lion King. I cried during the scene when Mufasa dies and Simba tried to wake his father up. It distressed me to think about my father gone away. The entire class laughed at me because I was crying. The teacher didn't try much to stop them.

Dad already wasn't home at that time as he had some business errands to run. I pledged to myself that I wouldn't wail, no matter what. Sometimes, when tears slipped from my eyes, I would beat myself for it and lock myself in my room. My mother was really fed up and worried of me. She, just like me, started waiting desperately for my Dad. She used to call him everyday and update him about my attitude.

When Dad finally came home, I wanted to weep but I didn't. Dad saw right through it. He knelt down and started singing an impromptu song, at least that's what I thought (he used to take up his nights to improvise that song during his trips). Dad had written down that song for me for whenever I would need it.

He was singing the same song again.

Listen my little princess

You have fought a long battle

You've got dirt on your dress

You fought brave with your armor of  metal

Tears down your cheeks,

Why are you crying my dear?

I know they said you're a loser

But hear me, you don't need to fear

He rested his head on mine as he went on to sing the prechorus.

Maybe this time,

Some wolves were a bit stronger

But I am always with you

And we can always fight together

I smiled as I heard those familiar. My voice was hoarse as I tried singing it with him.

You can cry  here, baby girl

Daddy is right here to hug you

Let those guys scream bad things

But I'm right here to say "I love you".

I vividly remember completely breaking down and clutching onto his shirt when he finished the chorus. And there I was, doing the same thing again. Sure as hell, history repeats itself.

Put your sword down today

You have fought too hard

Let these tears flow out

They were breaking your heart

And here, the song should have ended. He hadn't completed the song because I was crying uncontrollably as a child, but Dad kept adding his verses. I pulled away from the hug and looked down at the hands that Dad was tightly clutching.

You're never alone

You can't ever be

I will always be right here

Hugging you tightly

He changed the prechorus for the second stanza. Well, he could be craetive. 

So my precious just listen

You haven't lost anything

You can always fight back tomorrow

Those guys aren't going to go missing

You can cry here, baby girl

Daddy is right here to hug you

Let those guys scream bad things

But I'm right here to say "I love you".

He pulled my chin up to look me in the eye. He did dramatic actions with his hands to show that the bridge was about to approach. I was crying softly but I broke into a smile when I looked into his eyes. He was still the same. Never afraid to be the jester to see me smile.  

So listen my precious

You can break apart

Take your time to smile again

To open your heart.

You can cry here, baby girl

Daddy is right here to hug you

Let those guys scream bad things

But I'm right here to say "I love you".

But I'm right here to say "I love you".

But I'm right here to say "I love you".

For some moments, he just held my face in his hands. I could see that his eyes eyes had become moist too. He kissed my forehead and then hugged me once again. I wasn't crying this time. The storm inside me had walked to a different place at that moment but that didn't mean that it wouldn't return back.

"I am sorry, Ashley. I thought that taking you out would distract you a bit. I forgot that you needed your time. I am so so sorry."

If he would have said that before singing that song, I would have accepted the offer and stayed home. But somehow, the song had filled me with an energy. The kind that would make you look up to the sky and scream out loud, "I CAN DO IT!"

"No, Dad. Let's go. We didn't buy this dress for nothing. Hell, I didn't get ready for nothing." I said, wiping my eyelids.

He held my shoulders as if they were fragile. "We don't have to, darling. I would love to spend my time at home with you."

"I know you would, but now, I just want to go out. Maybe, just maybe, I am doing this for you. But if I don't do it, I probably would just fill myself up with guilt and that would give me another reason to cry."

"That is one emotional blackmail." 

I shrugged, already getting up. "Well, you know me."

***

The party started out formally. The people thought it was necessary to maintain the decorum and restrict their actions to a limit. But as they started downing sips of alcohol, they started letting lose. Funny thing, alcohol. Dad resorted to stay sober that night. He introduced me to all his colleagues and his boss. That's when I noticed something about me.

There was no extent to which I could go to hide my true self from. I was extremely confident with all of them. They would never be able to know that I was the same girl that could cry for days on end. They would never know that I was the same person who just a few hours ago wasn't accepting my own body, the way it looked. They wouldn't know that just a few days I was raped. They wouldn't know because I wouldn't let them. Not for a long time. 

No matter what happened, Dad never left my side during those few hours. I could see that he almost felt obligated to stay with me. He only left for some fifteen minutes when one of his close friends had come to meet him around. I took the time to call Adrian.

"Hey."

"Whoa. Where are you?" His voice was whiny as usual. "I literally waited by your house for like a surprise outing or something on New Year's. In fact, I haven't seen you in three days!-"

"I am at my Dad's house."

There was a long silence on the other side.

"Is everything alright?" He asked suspiciously.

I chuckled to myself. It was hilarious how he could go from an overprotective ranting ass to a totally caring one. It was like first, I was talking to my nephew or something and then my Dad.

"I am alright. Don't worry."

"Why so suddenly?"

"Just cause..." It was not the best moment for me to tell him everything. I didn't want to break down in front of those strangers. Also, I didn't know which road our friendship would walk once I told him everything. It could wait. It could wait forever.

"I'm happy for you." I could hear the smile in his voice. I wished I was that simple.

"I know you are."

"Dad took you out somewhere?"

"Yeah. His office party."

"Okay, then we'll talk later."

"When the clock strikes twelve?"

He snorted. "When the clock strikes twelve."

Dad came around after that. He forced me to dance to both, old and new, songs that held the Christmas spirit. After a couple of songs, my heels started aching so we resorted to the balcony of the party hall. I removed my footwear and massaged my heels while Dad provided me with the snarky facts about his co-workers. I chimed in sometimes with my observations and he would tell me if I was correct or not. He was natural conversationalist and entertainer. Maybe that's why, he would get his definitive promotions. Or maybe it was his abilities.

Thirty seconds prior, the countdown started. People enthusiastically started screaming numbers backwards and pointing at the sky for fireworks. Ten seconds prior Adrian called. And when It was finally the time, "HAPPY NEW YEAR!" He blasted in my ears. I wished him the same and promised him to call later.

Dad kissed me on the forehead and embraced me tightly.

"That was the last day of the year. A new year has begun. It will be better now."

I smiled at him genuinely. For a few moments, I just wanted to believe him. So I did.

"It will be better now."

But will it really?