The fatality of a father


A mother coddling her child as she kisses her baby’s cheek.

My feet found their way around the garden as I clutched onto her, feeling as though she’s my last light of hope. His spirit had left the world about last month, and every day, I ventured outside with her.

The secret he was keeping burned too brightly for the rest of the world. It was a disguised problem that’s been sprinkled within his person.

The trust I had with him has faded like the colors of leaves at the end of fall. His well-being seemed as normal as any other night. I was putting Nala down for bed.

After laying down Nala, I entered the living room and found that all the light had left his eyes and body. He held Nala’s locket in his hand, the locket for her third birthday. He must’ve had her in his thoughts.

The secret he was keeping burned too brightly for the rest of the world.”

What is Nala going to hear when she’s old enough? What shall I tell her when she asks about her father? Shall I tell her about the locket?

The guilt will continue to cultivate and rest within me for my whole life. The mask he displayed, the way he played his cards without showing anyone.

Nala is far too much of a sapling to know what occurred.

She’s two.