Forgiveness | Teen Ink

Forgiveness

January 5, 2016
By ThePotatoTater GOLD, Brooklyn, New York
ThePotatoTater GOLD, Brooklyn, New York
11 articles 1 photo 0 comments

This was it. Eleven years had passed since she had the nerve to face him. The last time was when she was a young five year-old, oblivious to the harsh reality of who her father really was. Not one day proceeded without her thinking about him and questioning: why?
“Chara, look at me,” her mother stated, intently gazing at her face which resembled her father’s. Mama observed her pale complexion along with the dark stormy eyes overwhelmed with uneasiness and excitement. Her mother reached for Chara’s icy, slender palm covered with sweat, grasping onto it to reassure her that everything was be fine.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
How could my mother possibly consider coming with me to meet the man who betrayed her, the man who abandoned me to pursue his own life? Chara considered how much her mother had to sacrifice to ensure she would live without having to suffer the absence of a father.
“No. I can’t throw this on you. I wrote the letter to him, not you. I wanted to see him for myself, not with you.” She reflected back on the letter she had written to her father, subconsciously replaying the lines she had wrote to him. Meet me in the place you last saw me. I need to see you again. Chara’s train of thought was interrupted when her mother pulled her into a snug squeeze, locking into her.
She finally let go and weakly smiled to her mom and shuffled into the pizzeria, the very place that Chara’s father had abandoned her. Jubilant bells attached to the door chimed as she pulled it open. Rusty brick walls sheltered the pizzeria, with dim lights illuminating the cozy setting just enough to create the ambiance. Chara scanned the room for her father, discouraged, yet unsurprised as she didn’t expect his presence. She hoped he would be there and call out her name, but all she heard were the mumbles of the customers.
She headed toward a table with spices like pepper and garlic and took a seat to avoid the awkwardness of standing up in front of the doorway.
A feeling of nostalgia rushed pass Chara when she reminisced an image of her mother’s home-made pizza. She envisioned herself, wafting her hands over her mother’s homemade goodness, inhaling the thick aroma of the saucy, cheesy pizza with her face clouded with the steam arising from its warmth. She was eager to stuff it in her face, fighting with her mother for the largest slice, reaching in and touching the soft crust. She sinked her teeth into it, taking a bite from the thick, doughy pizza, savoring all the unique combinations of flavors from toppings like pepperoni and mushrooms in her mouth. It reminded her of the satisfaction of her favorite comfort food.
Guilt was all Chara sensed. She was there for me my entire life. And I am here now looking for the man who abandoned me, as if she wasn’t enough for me. Meanwhile, he isn’t even here yet. Huh, guess I mattered to him so much. She was overwhelmed with angst, confusion, and deceit. She stood up, heading for the door, refusing to wait any longer for someone who couldn’t care less about her.  Just as she stormed out, a man strolled in, an inch away from bumping into her. She looked at him and stopped, cupping her tender hands over her mouth, eyes widening as she stared at him.
“Hi Chara.” Eleven years and Chara still recognized his face. Was is because I looked like him, or the fact that I envisioned his presence everyday, that I could remember him so vividly? She stood like the hour of death–like the universe stopped in this moment of awe.  She was bewildered with frustration and discomfort when she first laid her eyes on him.
“Hi, Dad.” No I shouldn’t have said that. He wasn’t my dad. My dad would stay–he would stay for me.
“I know you are angry at me, but give me a chance to explain,” he insisted. He reached up his arm, trying to place his hand on her shoulder, but she stepped back.
“Why? Why did you leave? You were my father. Your job was to stay for me, to stay like mom did.” I waited eleven years to ask you this. Now I need answers.
There was an abrupt silence.
“Chara. I’m sorry. I couldn’t take care of you. I wasn’t ready, I was never ready.”
“I need answers. Why would you do this to me?” She didn’t care that she was standing in the doorway. She didn’t care if everyone was looking at her. She waited for his response, watching his father taking sharp breaths before speaking.
“Sit down, and please, hear me out.”
It was as if her mind was split into two; one telling her to join him, and the other telling her to leave him there to suffer with knowing he could never be forgiven. She felt her tears being fought back, restrained from entering a vulnerable state. It hurts. It hurts to feel angry. I don’t want to feel angry anymore. I can’t rewind to the past. Chara took a step forward with a whirl of thoughts as she takes each step. I want to be happy. I want to forgive him. I will forgive him. She walks towards him, picking up her pace, and cleared her mind.
Her lips slightly curled, with a smile barely noticeable. It had been too long since someone saw her pretty smile. 



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