Chapter 8: The Wild, Wild Man

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My mother and I were heading back home from the park. She pushed me in my stroller while singing some song about monkeys and beds while I pulled at my socks. When I say we were going home, I mean to our new one bedroom apartment my mother rented. 

You see, after the incident two weeks ago, my mother thought my dad was busy doing art and put the hot bottle of milk somewhere in reach. He couldn't recall what happened and my mother thought I reached for the bottle, therefor burning myself.  She couldn't take it anymore and packed up the next morning. 

My father didn't make a fuss about it either. He stayed in his art room the whole time. My mother thought he was drawing or painting, but I knew exactly what he was doing. He was reading that book.

That day on our walk home, someone standing on the other side of the road caught my attention. "Dada!" I yelled with my arms dancing in the air. My mother quickly looked over and saw him. She stopped pushing me when he jogged over.

"Veronica?" He stopped a few inches away from her. "I'm so sorry. I don't what got into me." He then faced me and unbuckled me out of my seat. "Violet, I miss you so much." He hugged me.

My mother didn't say anything. She only waited for him to put me back. Once Daddy put me back down, he nodded his head and looked at us in an unstable expression. His smile was wild and crazy, his clothes uneven. The shirt behind his jacket was inside out. He looked... like a madman.

He waved his hand forward as to call a dog or say, "come on."

"Let's go. Let's go back home," he told my mother. His head bobbed up and down like it was broken and he couldn't hold it still.

My mother took a few steps back, rolling the stroller with her. "Have you been drinking?" my mother asked him.

He smiled and shook his head. "No, I just-I just need you two home again."

I could see my mom hold back tears. She pushed the stroller around him then looked back. "Good day, Jason," she said.

***

That night, my mom decided to give me a bubble bath. I splashed water all over the place, slid through the water, and tasted the bubbles. My mom sat beside the tub on a small chair. Her clothes were a bit wet from all the water I splashed around.

"Tibble tabba thwee," I screamed loudly.

My mom laughed. "What are you talking about, missy?"

I pointed to the front door as it slowly creaked open. My mom turned around and glanced at it but dismissed it quickly. I stared at it, a little frightened and confused as to why it opened like that when it was closed. My mother seemed to focus on her hands while I focused on the sliding shadow creeping across the wall. 

"Daba," I said splashing more water to get my mom's attention. "Dook!" I said meaning, look. My mother didn't look. She only smiled at me. I could tell her mind was very occupied because she didn't notice my worried expression. The sliding shadow was nothing but a long line wiggling against the door, but as I watched it, it grew and shaped into a silhouette.

The face of the silhouette as well as the rest of its body began to change color. I watched in horror as facial features began to appear on it. The face was that of my fathers. "Dada!" I yelled, pointing at the door. My mother didn't look, but the rest of my father's body completed the silhouette. He was standing behind my mother and I was going insane, splashing water around, trying to get my mom's attention. He waved at me, opened the door, and walked straight out just like that.

After all that, my mother finally looked behind her, then looked back at me. "Ready to get out, are we?" she asked, then lifted me out of the tub.

"Dada!" I yelled again.

She tapped my nose playfully. "Dada's not here," she said.

If only she knew.

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