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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1943487-If-You-Are-a-Daughter
Rated: E · Fiction · Family · #1943487
Silveria loves her father, perhaps too much. But who can blame her?
Lief dagbuok, I feel so ashamed.
Everything I have done lately has been bad. I dare say it was worse than a diepstrunt. Pardon my language but I can’t think of a better way to describe it. But I do it because I want my father to be proud. I feel he needs it.
Being someone as important as him gives him so many worries. It’s not right. He needs his peace, too.
It makes me sad to see how he is trapped by who he is and what he does. And although he does not show it I know it wears him down.
Sometimes I would even go down to the kitchen and make sure the cooks make the food just right for him. I know how he likes it.
When we eat I can feel if he’s enjoying it. He is not hiding his true self when he’s eating, that’s for sure!
But more than that it’s important he rests. If I ever find him sleeping in his study room I sit next to him and hold his hand. No matter for how long I would hold it until he smiles. That way I know he has good dreams. At least there he can be happy. Not like in this world where he is the center of all the stress of politics and war.
No matter how much he tries to make the king to be the head of the government people still come to him. I feel like I would need to simply take a torch and chase them away. How would that make me look, ha ha! I would enjoy being his bodyguard. Nobody would ever be allowed to even look at him crooked. And if somebody tried to make him feel bad they would pay dearly.
I love my dad, I want him to be happy. Just hugging him gives me enough energy to melt away and disperse into a blissful harmony.
It does make me feel special to know that he only allows only me and my sister to do that. No one else. Well, maybe besides all the women he has sex with. But I know they don’t love him and he does not love them. I don’t lose a tiny bit of his heart to them.
You might wonder why I actually write all this down. It is true that I would never trust anybody like I trust him. It feels like I can just tell him anything, anything in the world.
But some things I want to keep to myself although only for some time. I would like him to know everything, exactly how I feel.
Maybe he can sense it somehow, hopefully at least a little bit. Perhaps somewhere inside his busy mind he does realize my feelings. When he looks at me I feel like he’s reading my mind, like I am a gyok crystal etched right into his head.
It is strange, however, how he keeps talking about the future world in such mysteries. But the scariest thing is that he never mentions himself there. I just keep thinking about the world without him.
It’s both hard and sad to imagine. My dad has been an eternal symbol of this world. What would happen to it if he’s gone? I can’t bear that thought. Sometimes I just break down and cry when I think of that. How can I not? When that happens I cry for so long but when it finally passes I have to seek him out and hug him so tightly it sometimes scares him.
But it’s good, I’m just happy he’s alive and fear that if I let go he would disappear. He does not realize that or at least I hope he doesn’t.
Although I know he thinks I’m stupid. Of course he won’t say it like that but I can tell. He often says that having a kind heart is more important than being smart. It’s not like everyone has to be smart, he often says.
But I don’t mind. He seems quite amused by how I am, when I’m not crying that is. Why would I want to be smart anyways? Smart people are boring and often not kind.
Speaking of kindness, I’m really proud of my latest achievement. I actually tracked down the man, Daved Morth, who made clothes for mommy. He lived deep in a land broken by his magic experiments. The dresses he had in his home were so dazzling! But none could compare that of my mom’s.
He also found a way to use magic in the cursed land. Sadly, before he could share it we were ambushed and he was killed.
I tried to save his research but I failed oh so miserably. I wish I was as hardened and tenacious like my sister.
The whole place burned down and I fell into a river that carried me far away from there. Although I nearly drowned I woke up in some strange cave. Getting out of it was easy and it took only half a day to get back to Karasi.
Maybe I’ll tell you more details about it later. It’s certainly something worth talking about.
I’m really happy to have managed to save the dress which was safely locked inside my backpack. The water that got inside could not damage it anyways. Now it’s safely hanging inside my wardrobe. Just looking at it makes me shiver in anticipation. Oh how dad will like it when he’ll see me wear it!

„Why, father?“ asked Wealla, her eyes burning with anger. „Won’t you even let her get a proper funeral?“
Kordon just shook his head as he walked through the corridor. Wealla desperately tried to keep up with him.
„It’s not possible right now,“ he disregarded her.
„Since when is something not possible for you?!” barked out Wealla in hope to reach into his inner self where the emotions dwelled. “She’s your wife and my mother! She should be here with us, buried in her own land! Is it so hard to go and get her?“
She tried to step into his way but he would not let her.
„At the moment, yes. She’s in the enemy territory. I won’t risk lives of our people to bring back someone who is already dead.“
„There has to be some way!“ But Kordon would pay no more mind to her.
„This discussion is over, Wealla,“ he said and opened the door.
„No! You can’t possibly think of leaving her there!“
„You don’t know how dangerous it is. I...“
Kordon stopped in his tracks and Wealla nearly bumped into him. Angry, she looked over his shoulder to peek into the room. Someone stood by the window. The light blinded her for a moment until she managed to get a proper focus. The person slowly turned around and Kordon faced his deceased wife.
„Dianne?“ he asked, voice full of surprise.
Wealla, upon hearing that, rushed onward, pushing her father aside.
Really, for a moment it seemed like her mother was there. The same dress, circlet and hairstyle!
But there was something wrong. Her hair, it was silver. And the eyes were blank white!
Wealla, in anger, clenched her teeth and her fist. In quick five steps she approached her sister and punched her so hard Silveria spun around and fell with her face on the floor.
Wealla did not wait for anything. Like a ferocious beast she dropped down and turned Silveria around, kneeling over her hands to keep her pinned down.
„You ugly freak!“ she screamed while choking her sister with both her hands. „You think you can sully our mother by dressing like her? You’ll never be anything like her!“
Silveria tried to resist but with her hands being firmly pressed against the floor by her sister’s powerful legs she stood no chance. Wealla weighed much more than her and so she could not push herself off the floor or even roll around.
Both girls were now absolutely sure that Silveria was going to die. Wealla did indeed possess the strength to do it, there was no doubt about that.
The whole act was interrupted by an invisible force that lifted them both and tore them apart from each other. Then both girls realized their father had intervened. They saw him standing by the door with one of his arms risen up.
He swung it towards his opposite shoulder and the force pushed both of his daughters towards him. Silveria ended up in the embrace of his left arm while the right arm grabbed Wealla by the neck. He lifted her up, nearly strangling her as she gasped for air.
„I warned you to not hurt your sister,“ he said in a menacing voice. Even Silveria, resting in safely by his side, became scared. „Do you really intend on disobeying my command?“
Wealla struggled to set herself free but it felt as if his hand was made of stone. It would not move no matter how much she tried to open it using her own force. His grasp pressed against her throat but it did not advance. He was not going to kill her although the pain was the punishment.
„There will be no another warning,“ he said and released her. „Now leave us and go quell your madness.“
While panting like a rabid dog Wealla gathered her wits and rushed out of the room.
Kordon looked Silveria in the eyes and she looked at him. Her face was still red but already started to regain its natural color. Still, her white eyes contrasted with her skin much more and made them stand out. Maybe because of that he could see her tears.
„I just wanted to make you happy, daddy,“ she said through her sobbing.
„I know, liefkind. I know. But you don’t need to do this.“
„Why not? I know how much you miss mommy.“
„I do. But I am happy that she left me with such wonderful daughters like you and your sister. You two are born out of her and so in fact, she is with me through you.“
„How can you call my sister wonderful? Look at what she’s doing.“
„Wealla has had a very hard life. She just responds to everything with anger because she doesn’t want to be hurt by her emotions. It’s just the way she is. It’s not easy to deal with her problems. But she’s trying to be the best she can and you should too. Don’t try to be your mother. Simply be the best you can be. That’s good enough to keep me happy.“
Silveria stared at him with her eyes open wide. It made little sense to her so far but she would not forget. Hopefully the words will make sense to her eventually. And by seeing his smile she realized he knew it.
She was not the brightest star in the sky.
© Copyright 2013 Tomas Burian (sanghee2k at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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