You Can't Fix Two Broken Hearts By Stitching Them Together.

• Abbey Border, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2012

I was merely a child when my parents split, but it ripped my still growing heart out. I was in the same room as them, waiting to kiss my parents goodnight, when I heard my mother say something about my father needing to smarten up his act or leave.
I just stood there, motionless, as they yelled at each other. It was like I was a different person, watching from the outside. Of course, I suffered the pain before any of my other siblings.
I remember crying myself to sleep, and telepathically trying to tell my dad to stay. I was sure I already knew his answer, but the impact of his words hit me harder than I thought possible.
*
The afternoon after the heart-piercing fight, my dad announced he was leaving. I remember exactly what he looked like and exactly how I felt when I hugged him goodbye before running to my room and crying a river.
I knew this was not my fault, but the little voice in the back of my mind was convincing me more and more that it was. I felt like I couldn’t muster up the strength to do anything, and a tsunami of loneliness washed over me.
No one came into my room after that, and eventually I pulled myself from the bed. After dad left, I noticed the house was quieter than normal. It sent a little shiver racing down my spine, and it was then I noticed that my brain was thinking up solutions to get them back together.
*
I left the situation for many weeks, the same amount of time my dad didn’t show or call.
To give up for me now, would seem like giving up on breathing. I wanted, NEEDED, to see him; he couldn’t just walk out of my life this easily.
At the time he called, I spoke to him third.
“Where are you staying?” I asked hopefully.
“At your uncles” he replied, seeming to be quite annoyed.
“I want to see you, Daddy” I pleaded to him.
“You are going to. This weekend, I will come and get all of you kids”
“I love you Daddy”
“I love you too”
As he hung up, my spirits seemed to rise, but only a little. I was going to see my dad soon!
*
My father arrived, and all my worries seemed to fade. When we got to my uncles, there wasn’t anything to do. It seemed eerily quiet in the little unit, and with four children plus my father, it should have been loud.
By the next day, I hated staying there. I was a little glad when we went back to my mother’s house, but Daddy had to go again. He explained that I would see him every two weeks. I didn’t like the idea, but I couldn’t do anything about it.
As he left, I realised I learnt a valuable lesson. You can’t fix two broken hearts by stitching them together.