Mistakes
Fiction
Karee Magee
Issue date: 2/26/10 Section: Creative Writing
There he sits in front of the television, watching a movie he's seen a million times. I have to tell him soon, before I lose my nerve. It was so much simpler to tell my mom; she didn't judge. My dad would. He would say that it was my fault, even though I couldn't have controlled what happened, or he wouldn't say anything at all and simply ignore me like every time I disappoint him.
We sit here in the living room in utter silence. He's focused on the movie, Die Hard, I believe, a Christmas present from me, while I can't even register the pictures flitting across the screen.
I love my dad, but he can be extremely prejudiced and judgmental. Mistakes happen, its part of the human condition. Kids make mistakes; they get drunk or they fall for the wrong person. I'm no longer a child though, but he still looks at me that way.
He turns to me and says something, maybe it's a question or a statement about the movie, which has a plot I can no longer comprehend. I can't hear, I can't think.
I need to tell him, to let go.
"Daddy, I'm pregnant."
He looks at me like he doesn't see me, like I don't exist. He stands up and walks from the room, never looking back. I turn to face the television, but I don't see the colorful scenes shifting or hear the voices. My heart hurts; no physical wound could cause such pain.
We sit here in the living room in utter silence. He's focused on the movie, Die Hard, I believe, a Christmas present from me, while I can't even register the pictures flitting across the screen.
I love my dad, but he can be extremely prejudiced and judgmental. Mistakes happen, its part of the human condition. Kids make mistakes; they get drunk or they fall for the wrong person. I'm no longer a child though, but he still looks at me that way.
He turns to me and says something, maybe it's a question or a statement about the movie, which has a plot I can no longer comprehend. I can't hear, I can't think.
I need to tell him, to let go.
"Daddy, I'm pregnant."
He looks at me like he doesn't see me, like I don't exist. He stands up and walks from the room, never looking back. I turn to face the television, but I don't see the colorful scenes shifting or hear the voices. My heart hurts; no physical wound could cause such pain.
Viewing Comments 1 - 1 of 1
Dave Felton
posted 2/27/10 @ 9:15 AM EST
Nice, tight writing.
I love the description of the feelngs of isolation being caused by the situation.
Not sure I "get" the final line, but I am not female. (Continued…)
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