“Shut up! What could’ve possibly passed through that stupid brain of yours that made you think it would be okay for you to ask to not go to school today?” Riley’s father barked while opening his second beer of the morning, “You aren’t sick. Your mother is sick. You know what else your mother is?” He paused, sipping slowly at his drink, “Dead.” He spat, “She’s dead because she gave birth to you. You ungrateful little brat, get to school.” Fifteen year old Riley Dillion held back her tears as she dashed back to the seclusion of her room. 

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” called a jogging mother, her baby stroller wheeling along in front of her. 

“Sorry!” Riley panted, halting her run, but the woman had already turned the corner, out of earshot. 

Riley stumbled over to a nearby park bench and collapsed, shaken from the vividness of the memory. That memory had taken place four years ago. Each year following it had brought episodes like that one from her father. Even the years before it, Riley could recall her father’s alcohol induced fits of rage. The effects of many of these times are still present on her body. 

Looking around, Riley saw college students lounging and laughing with their friends. Riley would’ve just started her freshman year of college, but instead she’s working nine hours a day five days a week at a local bookstore no one really visits, where the pay is just enough for her to rent a small apartment just big enough for the bare necessities. Had Riley’s father felt any actual love towards his daughter, Riley would’ve been one of those students laying about. The reality though, is that Riley’s father hadn't even bothered to be there at her senior graduation. 

It had been about eight months since the two Dillions had seen each other, the last time featuring a particularly harsh argument between them that ended in broken glass and bleeding arms. That was, coincidentally, the night Riley decided to leave home.

Although Riley’s father had never been there for her, never loved her, and never treated her as his child, a part of Riley still, irrationally, craved her father’s love and praise. It was a ridiculous wish, she knew, but one she wished for nonetheless.

Having regained her balance, Riley stood back up, and carried on with her run. Her thoughts during the last block to her apartment building were plagued with more memories of her past. In an attempt to distance herself from her mind, Riley sprinted towards her building as fast as she possibly could. 

  Barely stopping to greet the desk clerk, Riley pelted through the lobby and vaulted towards the stairs. Taking the four flights between her and her apartment two stairs at a time, she was at her door within mere minutes. 

Shoving the key into the lock and turning it, Riley shouldered open the door. Leaning against the door frame in an attempt to regain her breath, Riley surveyed her tiny apartment, sighing. 

Her kitchen was just big enough for the necessities. A fridge sat tucked into the corner, a rusting sink in the middle of the counter, a cheap electric stove that only sometimes worked, and an island jutting out in the middle that took up most of the floor space.

Moving from the doorframe, Riley made her way into her apartment, locking the door behind her. Walking into the living room with relief, Riley sank down onto the secondhand royal blue love seat that welcomed her into its tufted arms like an old friend. Propping her feet onto the coffee table that threatened to keel over any minute, Riley turned on the unreliable, flickering lamp that sat on her three drawer dresser that contained her meager belongings. Pulling the down comforter around her shoulders, she picked up one of her favorite books she had been rereading for what could’ve been the millionth time. Riley submerged herself into the words of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle to revisit the adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. 

Some time later, an echoing knock sounded through the tiny room, efficiently jolting Riley awake from an accidental nap. It was understandable she fell asleep on the couch, as it served not only as her seating but as her bed as well. 

A groggy gait carried Riley to the door. On the other side stood a woman in a pantsuit carrying a briefcase. 

“ Hello, Riley Dillion? My name is Jane Sumner,” Jane spoke with a light tone to her voice, as if ready to console at any minute.

“What can I do for you Mrs. Sumner?” Riley asked, a bit confused. She almost never received visitors.

“It isn’t so much as what you can do for me, but what you are being asked to do for someone else. You see, Miss Dillion, your father is very ill.  He was taken to the hospital last night and diagnosed with severe cirrhosis. I was sent here after we learned that you don’t have any sort of telephone with which I would’ve been able to contact you. I’m a social worker, you see, so when your father said he wanted to see his daughter before it’s too late, I just jumped at the chance to reunite a broken family” Mrs. Sumner said all of this in a soothing tone, as if Riley would crack with the blow of the news.

“I suppose I could visit him. I’m not sure why he would want to see me, though. He didn’t want anything to do with me when we lived under the same roof.” Riley said, grabbing a jacket from the kitchen island, “I’m free now, if you could take me to see him.” 

“Of course! My car is just out front.” Jane all but shrilled, and led Riley out of the building and towards the man that made her life a living Hell for almost eighteen years. 

Walking through the hospital entrance, Riley began to quicken her pace out of anxiety. Jane seemed to notice this, and began to practically skip towards the elevator at the far end of the corridor, mistaking Riley’s nerves for excitement.

“Your father was just being moved out of the ER and into a private room. He’s on the third floor now,” Jane said, pushing the button that would bring them closer to George Dillion himself. 

The elevator doors slid open to let them out, and before Riley could even voice her concerns about seeing her father, Jane dragged her down the hall, abruptly stopping at the last door in the corridor.  Riley sucked in a deep breath, and turned the handle at Jane’s urging.

The sight that greeted her almost made her flip back around and run screaming. Her father was sleeping on a hospital bed, hooked up to as many tubes and machines as it seemed possible.

Jane’s clacking heels across the tiles caused George Dillion to stir. Coming fully conscience, he looked around, until his eyes landed on his daughter’s.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Dillion! I brought someone back to see you!” Here, Jane shoved Riley towards her father, “I’ll leave you two to it!” Waving her goodbye, Jane Sumner retreated from the room, closing the door with a final sounding ‘click’.

Silence filled the room as the two Dillions stared into each other’s eyes; the younger one fidgeting, and the older one as cold as concrete. 

“Why don’t you start, seeing as you asked for me to be here.” Riley muttered, breaking eye contact with her father.

  Sighing, George Dillion wheezed, “I’m sorry. Please, just let me get out all that I have to say, and then I’ll listen to you. When your mother died, I couldn’t bear to continue in the world. Being given you, I thought that you had taken her away from me. For years, I lived under this illusion, being aided by the near constant flow of alcohol. When you left home, I thought I would be relieved, because I was finally rid of you. I was disappointed to find that I actually grew more depressed and tried to get better the only way I knew how. By drinking. Y esterday, I almost died, and that near death experience made me realize how horrible of a childhood I gave you. I didn’t have any of that ‘my life flashed before my eyes’ crap that you hear people talk about. What did flash across my eyes was your mother’s face when she told me she was pregnant. She was overjoyed, and so was I. That’s why I’m so sorry. You have no reason to forgive me, and I would understand if you never do. All that I put you through, you deserve to be mad at me for the rest of my life. But I want to get better. I want to heal. I’ll heal for you, Riley.” George finished, leaning back on his pillows in exhaustion.

Riley was taken aback. She had always wanted him to love her, and here he was, telling her he would try. Riley took a deep breath, composing herself, and dove in.

“You abused me. Mentally, physically, and I will never get my childhood back from you. We will never have a good father-daughter relationship, you ruined any chance of that a very long time ago. I am, however, willing to try. As long as I see you try for me, I’ll try to forgive. I will never forget, and what you did to me will never be ‘okay’ but I am willing to try.  So,” Riley paused, looking into her father’s eyes for the first time in her life with a sense of strength, 

“Dad, heal. Heal for me.”