Triskadekaphobia - July 15, 2012

[note: this was written during a writing exercise: we had 20 minutes to write something inspired by the word "triskadekaphobia" (irrational fear of the number 13). This is the result, unedited, exactly as it appeared when time ran out. You can read all of them in the waves category]]

Triskadekaphobia - Squiddy Geiger - July 15, 2012

"No! I'm not leaving my room and you can't make me!" The door slammed to make her point, and Darryl sighed and shook his head. It was the same on the 13th day of every month. He'd try to get her to go to school and she'd throw a fit, and he'd call her in as sick. If the school was aware of the pattern, he hadn't heard anything yet. Thank god it wasn't a Friday, or she'd be cowering in her closet.

He went back downstairs to make his lunch, sighing, wishing to Heaven that he could fix whatever had broken in his daughter. It had started two years before, in Grade 8. She hadn't come down for breakfast and when he'd investigated, she was bundled in bed, quivering with fear. He'd tried to get her out of bed, but it hadn't been possible. The farthest she'd stray from the safety of her room was into the bathroom; when done, she'd dart back to her sanctuary.

As he did every 13th, he longed for Mary's help in dealing with their child. Of course, he wished she could help with many aspects of raising Lana. She'd died when Lana was nine and it had been especially difficult the first two years, but had been better, much better, until this started. He was at a loss to know who to talk to about her. Maybe he'd talk to Dr. Fein on Monday.

He went to work, and then to his second job, getting home just before 11:30pm. He went upstairs to check on Lana, and found her sitting on the bed, surrounded by her stuffed animals, arrayed in protective formation around her, facing outwards. He smiled at her, kissed her forehead, and then sat to discuss things with her.

They talked about his day; work had been pretty good at first job, he'd had a commendation from a customer, so he was in a good mood for the rest of the day, even at job number two, which was boring as hell. If they didn't need the money so much, he'd quit; saving for Lana's University Fund was important to him.

Her day had been uneventful, other than being scared of everything that moved, every sound, every flash of light outside. He reassured her as best he could, and shortly after midnight, she fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. He turned off the light and slowly closed the door. Peace returned, for another month.

Posted by Squiddy at July 15, 2012 08:45 PM | TrackBack