Dear Father

It’s New Year’s Eve, but Sarah Evans and Meg Baker aren’t out partying tonight. In fact, they’re both cooped up inside their dorm room. Sarah's counting down the hours until she turns eighteen on January first while Meg sits in the other room reading a book. Meg’s been reading for the past few hours, and she hasn’t taken her eyes off the book in ages, not even bothering to look up at the startling fireworks. 

   It’s not until Sarah comes out to get a snack from the kitchen and says something that nearly has Meg jump out of her seat that she finally bothers to look up.

   “I’m going to go see my ‘father’ tonight,” Sarah says ever so nonchalantly as she pours herself a glass of orange juice. 

   “You’re going to what?” Meg asks, finally paying attention to something other than a book tonight.

   “I’m going to drive three hours to my old house to go see him tonight. You only live once, right?” Sarah replies as she plops herself down on the couch next to Meg.

   Meg quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah… okay, but why tonight of all nights? You guys didn’t exactly part on a good note.”

   Sarah grins. “Why not tonight? I’m turning eighteen in a few hours, and it’ll be like a last hoorah before the year ends and we go to college. Like a, ‘let’s go see my berserk dad before the year ends because what have we got to lose,’ type of thing.”

  Meg grimaces. “Okay, you go do your thing but leave me out of it,” she says, already turning to go back to her book. “Doesn’t your dad live like three hours away, though?”

   Sarah sighs. “Yup. That’s why I have to leave pretty soon. Just wanted to let you know. I’d really appreciate it if you came with me.”

   And suddenly Meg feels bad, because she remembers how important this is to Sarah, and she knows that she should be there to support her.

   “Of course I’ll come,” she says, pulling Sarah into a tight hug as she grabs the keys off the hook and tosses them to her with a proud grin.

   “Four minutes to spare ‘til the new year,” Sarah says, quickly parking the car and barely glancing over at the clock. The radio of the car plays softly in the background, before halting to an abrupt stop when Sarah pulls the keys out of the ignition. She looks up at the house in front of her, suddenly remembering all of the lonely nights out on the front porch, listening to her father and mother scream at one another, until one night it all stopped.

   Sarah almost breaks down into tears seeing her old house again, if it weren’t for the fact that it looks overgrown and dirty. It only seemed to remind her of the bad memories, and she desperately tries to bite back a sob as she looks at it. Meg puts a hand on her friend’s shoulder sympathetically, trying to soothe away the bad memories as she gently massages it.

   “Two minutes to spare,” Sarah says, shrugging Meg’s hand away and pulling out her phone to check the time. “I don’t have time to be sad,” she mumbles as she gets out of the car and starts stomping towards the house, the feeling of wanting to cry never truly going away.

   She starts to walk faster, practically shaking with anger as she steps onto the porch and knocks for the first time in years. When nobody answers the door, she pulls out her phone and sets a timer to go off at midnight to get a more accurate estimate. She has to do this before the year ends. 

   “Fifty-one seconds,” she mumbles to herself before knocking a second time, this one slightly harder and louder than the first. 

   “I know you’re in there!” She yells, the tears still threatening to spill over. 

   “I know you’re in there, sitting on your couch with a drink in hand, so far gone that you can’t even remember your own name! I KNOW IT! I DO!”

    Forty-five seconds.

   “You know I’m out here, and you can’t even come out to curse me?! You can’t even come out to tell me how worthless I am or how stupid I’ve become?! To remind me every single day about Mom’s death, like I was at fault?!” Sarah screams the tears finally spilling over as her body shakes violently.

   “I needed you then! I needed you to be there because she couldn’t be! And where were you? Drunk? Passed out? Where were you?!” She sobs. 

   Twenty-nine seconds.

   “Well, I don’t need you now. I’m going to be eighteen at midnight, and I’m going to be going to college next year, far, far away from you. You’re so much more worthless to me than I ever was to you. I don’t need you, YOU HEAR ME?! I don't-” Sarah stops short as the door suddenly swings open, revealing a young man in a white tee with dark tousled hair and kitten pajama pants.

  “Wha- you’re not Matthew Evans?” Sarah breathes, eyes wide and her body shaking from the cold.

   Fifteen seconds.

   “Mr. Evans? Yeah, he hasn’t lived here for a while. What can I help you with?” The young man says, stepping outside and closing the door.

   “Do you know where he might have moved to? I need to see him tonight,” Sarah replies, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the young man will have an answer.

   But when the young man looks down at the floor with sorrow and helplessness in his eyes, Sarah realizes that she has no such luck.

  “I’m sorry,” the man starts, “but Mr. Evans is dead.”

   Three seconds.

   Two seconds.

   One second. 

   And then Sarah’s alarm goes off without shame, resonating through the neighborhood as her eyes go wide, tears still falling over her cheeks with little plops as they hit the ground.

   It’s loud, and the sound is repetitive, but Sarah does nothing to stop the ringing of the alarm as she stands there in pure shock, a wave of anger, sadness, resentment, relief and guilt washing over her all at once. Realizing that the alarm is still ringing, she reaches into her coat pocket and fumbles for her phone with shaky hands, accidentally dropping it on the ground. The phone continues to ring on the way down, stopping with an abrupt halt as it hits the ground and shatters into a million pieces, the screen going pitch black and the deafening sound stopping once and for all. Sarah looks up at the man with wide, teary eyes, and she knows she should say something more, but all she can manage to croak out is a measly “Happy New Year.” She steps off the porch with a somber expression, walking slowly and dejectedly back to the car, unsure how exactly to feel about her father’s death. She doesn’t look back at the man once, afraid that his expression would read sympathy or sorrow, or that he’d say one of those stupid sympathetic phrases that people do, knowing that she wouldn’t know how to respond to him. 

   She opens the car door slowly and Meg looks up at her, but Sarah doesn’t bother to tear her eyes away from the ground to look back at Meg. 

   “I’m eighteen now,” she mumbles instead, still not looking Meg in the eye as she gets in the car.

   “How did it go?” Meg asks hesitantly. 

   “He’s dead,” Sarah replies, a conflicted grin stretched across her face as tears still continue to fall from her eyes. “He’s dead and he’s gone and I didn’t even get to have the last word before he died!” She cries as her face quickly falls. “I didn’t even get to tell him I got into Harvard! Maybe he would’ve been proud of me for once! I spent so much time being angry at him that I didn’t even get to say goodbye, Meg! I just wanted him to love me!” She sobs, unsure whether to feel distraught or relieved.

   “I just wanted him to love me…” she repeats, more for herself than for anyone else.

   Meg gives her a reassuring smile. “I’m sure he did, Sarah,” she says as she wraps Sarah into a tight hug, gently consoling her as she cries. 

   “Do you think it reached him?” Sarah asks once she finally collects herself.

   Meg grins as she too begins to cry. “I don’t think so,” she says as tears begin to spill over. 

   “I know so.”