by S.E. Akers
Most of the texts were from Katie, but a few of them wedged in the mix turned out to be from some of my classmates at school — all of them telling me how sorry they were to hear about my father. There was one from Charlie, instructing me not to even think about coming into work next week and then two from Ty. The first one was from late last night. It simply said, “I’m waiting.” The last one was just as straightforward. “I’m so sorry, Shi. CALL ME.”
I couldn’t deal with returning his text right now, let alone talking to him. What reason would I give him for not calling him back last night? Mike was possessed, and he attacked me? Last night’s little scuffle between them in the parking lot would seem like a tickle-fight compared to what would probably come from that disclosure.
I listlessly pressed the button to listen to the voicemail as I picked myself up off the floor and crawled into bed. As soon as I heard the voice on the phone, I breathed out a heart-thudding gasp. My eyes began to flood with tears as I listened to the message.
Hey, Shiloh… I wanted to wish
you an early Happy Birthday.
I hope Bea didn’t work
you too hard today…
Look in your closet before
you head out to the dance…
I put a little somethin’ in there
for you… But don’t worry, you’ll
still get your cake in the mornin’.
I love you, Shiloh…
I’ve loved you from the first
moment I held you in my arms,
almost eighteen years ago…
Like I told ya, I knew you were
special, and I know one day,
you’ll finally see just how
special you truly are…
You were brought into this
world for a reason,
not just to make your
old man proud…
Goodbye, Shi
Hearing my father say the taboo word he would never utter when we parted was haunting. He was right. “Good-bye” sounded truly irrevocable—so final—especially now. I threw my head against the pillow and barricaded my curled up body under the sheets. His message spoke to me almost like he knew what was headed my way.
How did he know I’m supposedly “special”? I quickly dismissed the implication from my head. Of course, every father tends to think that their daughter is “special”, but could he have known his end was near? That was the one question I pondered all afternoon and well into the evening.
I cried myself to sleep, heartbroken but still thankful for my accidental birthday present — Daddy’s message. His voice saved forever for only me to hear.
Chapter 14
