Dumping my school stuff by the computer, homework would wait, I charged up to my room. What had I done? I had promised one of my most treasured friends, for indeed that was what I counted Miss Davis as, something I did not want. Once again I had sacrificed myself for everyone else, only because they asked. I had never been able to refuse anything my friends asked of me, hoping I by me being there for them would make them realise I was not going to leave them. Only, now I was.
Angrily, I sunk my hand into my pillow, using it to muffle the scream that ripped out of my mouth. Then two beams of light swept across my room. Frozen, I watched the strange shapes play around the room from the beams.
"Dad!" I whispered and flew out of my room.
I was at the bottom of the stairs as he opened the door.
There was my dad, all six and a half foot of him in his business suit and tie slightly askew. In his hands were his suitcase, briefcase and jacket. At the sight of one another, we both stood totally immobile.
"Daddy!" I screamed and ran at him.
He dropped his belongings and held his big arms out. Eagerly, I leapt into them, wrapping my legs securely around his body and my arms behind his head.
I had always felt safe in daddy's arms, it was where every girl was meant to be; the only thing I felt which every other girl did too.
Together we both broke down crying. I felt seven years old again with daddy holding me as if I was weightless.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't there, darling! I'll quit my job and we'll spend every minute together!" He promised me what I viewed as the stars and the long-awaited-for pony all rolled into one.
Sadly I shook my head; as much as I wanted it, I knew we could not live like that, "You have to work, we'll have no money otherwise."
"You're more important."
"I disagree." He set me down and kissed my head.
"Oh, I suppose. What with the medical bills. You're more trouble than you're worth." He nudged me gently, winking playfully and becoming my old dad again.
"No, daddy," I shook my head, "I'm not having any treatment. I'm only having one treatment, just one session of chemo, because I promised a friend. It's what I want, daddy. It's what's best for me, I want to go naturally. Daddy, do you believe me?" I cried harder, desperately needing him to understand and tell me I had made the right choice because no one else would.
Silence took his place for a moment as it sunk in, that his always optimistic, never faltering, always smiling daughter wanted to give up. And truly, in a fit of weakness, I did want to give up. I wanted to lie down right then and go up to God's eternally loving hands. But I had a life to live, matches to play and tears to dry.
I was not done.
"Yes, baby. Whatever you choose will be the right thing in my eyes."