Hailey

I ponder in my thoughts as my dad sleeps in his hospital bed. It's been an hour since I arrived at the hospital and he hasn't so much as stirred. 

I continue thinking about his old self. Thinking about his words and how he used to treat me with such gentleness, so much different from now.

What happened to him? What caused him to snap and become someone so vile and disgusting? And what about everything he said? 

Was that all a lie? 

I'm staring down at my hands so hard that I don't notice dad waking up, "What the fuck are you doing here?" he asks so harshly that I jump at the sound.

I look up at him. His shoulders are tense and he's sitting up as much as he can. His eyes are blazing with so much fury that I shrink back in my seat.

He scoffs. "What? Are you scared?" He seethes venomously. "Are you scared like the worthless slut you are?"

His words should have some effect on me. I should be looking at him in shock. I should be asking him why he would say such a thing. I should feel a piercing pain in my heart. 

But I don't.

I'm so used to hearing things like that come out of his mouth that it doesn't affect me anymore. 

The very first time he called me something so vulgar, I was so shaken. I thought that I couldn't possibly have heard him correctly. The pain of his words was so unbelievably strong. He started calling me such disgusting names more frequently, and eventually I got used to it. I had no other choice but to get used to it. Because I knew it wasn't going to stop.

"Go home you little shit. I don't fucking need you here," he pauses "I can't even end my life. I can't even leave this damned world in order to be finished with you. I can't even fucking die and I'm stuck with your ugly ass."

My eyes snap up. End his life? He... he did this shit on purpose? He's in the hospital by his own choice? Anger rises in me and before I can think rationally, I speak.

"What?" I ask, my voice laced with hatred.

My dad seems shocked, although it's most likely mocking. "Well would you lookie here? The bitch speaks. I was starting to think my dick choked you up too much."

"You were trying to end your life?" I gasp out.

His eyes harden. I know this look. This is when he is the most pissed off. This is the look he had when I got beaten the worst. "Of course i fucking was. I don't want to deal with a piece of shit like you anymore. It's your fault, it's your fucking fault that she left!" he spits out.

His pulse is going up erratically now and he is thrashing in his bed, his eyes wide and alarmed, looking at me as if daggers would shoot out of them. 

A couple nurses rush into the room. One of them ushers me out of room while the other going to inject a shot in my dad's body. 

I rush out, but not before I see a weird mark on my dad's arm.

As soon as I'm outside of the room, a doctor comes up to me. "Are you Hailey Johnson, Adam Johnson's daughter?"

"Yes doctor, I am," I reply curtly without that being my intention. 

"I am Doctor Carl. I have been monitoring your father's condition for the last several hours. His left arm and right leg are broken and he has two broken ribs. All that of which should heal up just fine."

"However," he continues "that is not the most concerning issue."

I blink. "What do you mean?"

Dr. Carl clears his throat. "One of the first things we noticed where marks on his arms. Lesions."

Lesions? Oh god... please don't tell me that-

"He was on drugs," the doctor clarifies. As if I needed any more clarification.

My throat feels tight as I nearly gasp for air. Just when I thought things couldn't get worse, my dad had to go and prove me wrong.

"We will be transferring him to the nearest rehab center as soon as possible. He wasn't on just one drug. He was on several."

Several. My dad was on several drugs. How does this happen to someone? I don't understand, I don't get any of this.

Noticing that I haven't replied, I choke out my response, "Yes, do it."

"They will do the best that they can. They will take care of him and help him to not be addicted anymore," the doctor says confidently. Or maybe that's an act, something to give me hope. 

Can I hold on to hope? Am I convinced that hope is even worth it?

I think I am starting to be.

My father may treat me like shit. He may chew me up and spit me out. He may abuse and rape me. But I'm not my father. And part of me still remembers something better. Somewhere, deep down, there is the man my father used to be. 

Maybe not entirely. Maybe only a little bit. But regardless, I will help him. He is still blood.

He may not act like it at all, but he is still my father.

***

Hey guys I know this chapter is short AND you had to wait extra long for it, and I am sorry for that.

My last week of school has me on my toes.

With all honesty, I have mixed feelings about this chapter. Idk why, I just don't like it very much. So I will probably edit it in future.

Thank you all!

Love Lexi ❤️❤️❤️❤️