Only for Daddy
By Destiny Wild
Copyright 2011 Destiny Wild
Smashwords Edition
The following story is a work of fiction. All names, locations and events derived solely from the author’s imagination. Any actual relevance to real-life incidents is purely coincidental.
I had never really been alone before. Despite living in the country away from all the big cities, giant skyscrapers and rushing cars, I had never been alone. My parents raised me out on the farm, my friends were the chickens and cows. My parents were the only ones there for me, but despite having no friends my age, I wasn't upset or jealous of anyone. I was perfectly happy, I loved my life, I loved my parents. I felt like I was the happiest girl in the world. I should have realised it could never last. I still remember it perfectly.
I was sixteen years old. It was a hot day, even for summer. My mother was making lunch in the kitchen and my father was walking down to feed the cows, while I was just sitting on the front steps, thinking about how lucky I was. My father turned and waved to me, I stood up and waved back. My father's arm fell, followed by the rest of his body. I thought he must be playing a prank on me, and I expected him to spring up any second, a cheerful grin playing across his face. He didn't get up.
“Mum!” I yelled starting to run towards him, “Get help!”
“What's going on?” She stuck her head out the window.
“Something happened to Dad!” I yelled back, vaulting over the gate and into the field.
I ran over to where he lay, gasping for breath, tears coming to my eyes. “Dad. Dad. Dad! Don't do this to me, don't die!” I screamed at him, trying to give him CPR. “Dad, don't go, I need you, we need you,”
“Dad!”
It took two full grown men to pull me away from my father. I couldn't leave him. He wouldn't have left me. My mother rode in the ambulance to the hospital. Suddenly, after so many years of always having company, I was alone. I sat on the porch, waiting, watching, praying that my father would come running through the front gate, smiling, reaching out for a hug. He didn't. We had a quiet funeral, Dad was cremated and his ashes thrown into the wind, to be carried off to new places, to see new sights.
Years passed, and I grew up. When I was eighteen my mother remarried. A guy named Greg. He was a nice guy, a few years younger than my mother and his face showed it. He tried to connect with me, but he couldn't replace my father. No-one could. Another year passed and I started to adjust. I got along with Greg and he was a really cool guy, once I had become used to his presence instead of my father. He held me when I cried and he was there when I fell, but despite all his love, I could never think of him as my father.
“Ashley?”
A voice broke into my day-dreaming. I was thinking about how my father would let me collect the eggs from the chickens. It was Greg, dressed only in a towel. I admired his muscular chest, then immediately felt guilty and looked away.