An arduous path, fate has set before me. The kind which relentlessly taxes my spirit and has begun to slowly erode the very seams of my sanity. The deafening cries inside my mind keep me awake and the deception, lies and manipulation have made their mark on my thoughts. The decision to forgive and not seek retribution has now weakened the once willful patient man. They say that those who leave such matters to faith and goodwill eventually find peace.
Does the father, who withdraws; not because of the unending repression by the ruffians hiding behind their false agenda, but due to his deliberate choice of not separating his daughter from her mother, not deserve better? Or would it have been wiser for him to have unleashed his wrath until he could have had her in his arms? On this path, I have found that a father who withdraws for the sake of his child has a love far greater than the one who does not. I would have never forgiven myself, for letting you be used as leverage by those who sought mischief. I left you in God’s care and I hope you have the same heart as me for you will need it to climb out of the moral-less abyss.
I could write a hundred words, to express how much I miss you and how I long to see you, yet when I start, there is little I can muster. So, for this Father’s Day, I managed to get a painting made for you which I hope holds true to the adage; a picture is worth a thousand words. May you always be happy and healthy and may you always choose the right path, no matter how hard it gets. May you find peace through morality, like I did.
His curiosity, however, was suddenly upon him. He strained his eyes then, and through the shrouding pools of darkness he could see jagged monoliths of brown rock, like knives threatening the sky. It was a sparse forest of stone that Mahofon knew he would encounter. Yet, through the black fog that remained unvarnished by the fire he had lit, he could sense the presence of a different towering structure. He closed his eyes now, and strained. For a timescale he was unable to measure, he sat still. He felt as if he had reached his hands into a box of unknown contents, groping for something important yet hidden. He knew suddenly, in an enlightened moment, by feel alone, that something was there, beyond his sight, but not from grasp. With a cry, he leaped to his feet, and buried his face in his hands. His face burned under some unearthly scrutiny. Chatter halted then, and faces turned to watch Mahofon as he struggled. He began to claw at his face like a mad cat; it was then that Dulkatra, with his hulking body, stepped forward and restrained the magician.
“What in Almighty’s name…” A voice from the crowd trailed off. “There, there!” Mombulu had rushed to his aid also. Although from the corner of his eye, he saw that the staff Mahofon had dropped had squeezed its own eye shut. The wood that made the handle seemed contorted, strained, as if put under immense pressure – or pain. After a few minutes, and after what seemed like hours, Mahofon fell limp. It was then stated that he had merely fainted from exhaustion after some inspection by Cescar. With the nerves of the band calmed after some time, they returned to their duties. When the full moon glowed faintly above them all, that was when they finally rested. They seated themselves on rotten logs around the fire then, Mombulu among them. Mahofon had been retired to one of the tents whilst he rested – the standard bearer had placed his staff next to him. It was yet to blink.
A horn was played as the wood in the fire glowed a deep orange. It shattered the silence and echoed melodramatically off the canyon’s edge. The sound was deep, familiar to the soldiers. It banished the unknown out of the location that was so smothered in darkness, a crater of refuge. A song crept through the ranks of sound as more began to join in. And once the music faded too, so did the group disband to their tepees. Even the sounds of shuffling, and the harsh snap of the crackling fire would part ways to become an element of the truest silence, resonating in an ocean of darkness.
It was the twenty second day of March. The year was 2019. He woke up with a strange feeling. His world was colourless and he lay in his bed, trying to gather his thoughts. He did not have much to look forward too. Lately, he had not been interested in anything at all. He lay there quietly, soaked in his anhedonia. He did not want to do anything or see anyone today or for a long long time. He wondered what was different about today though. Alien emotions and discomforting anxiety was taking over him. While he did always feel like withdrawing from everything, something unusual was brewing inside him. He sat up and tried to shake it away. Like every day, he began pushing himself to getting dressed and going to work.
He had barely gotten up when he received a message. A message that shook his entire world and he almost collapsed. Frozen and broken, he tried to control himself. He held his face in his hands as he lay lifeless again. A cold darkness overcame him. Every feeling in his physical existence was gone. All he could feel was being cast into an endless abyss with nothing to break his fall. There was a light far away in the darkness around him. A light he could not reach. A light he had to let go. What was the message? He repeated the words to himself while his tears burned against his skin, cascading down slowly. He had just become a father to a beautiful baby girl. A daughter he could not see or meet.
If he wanted to, he
could fight for it. Fight against those who stood between him and his daughter.
He let himself suffer. He became the delinquent father. He told himself, that
no matter what they did to him, no matter what she did to him . . . He will not
separate the child from her mother. Even if that meant never being able to see
his own daughter. This was the most painful decision he had ever had to take.
Imagine giving up your rights for the people who caused so much pain for you
and robbed you. For him, it seemed selfish to fight for his right to be a part
of his daughters life if it was going to make her life harder.
He has not been able
to sleep properly yet and may never be able to. Whatever you will be told and
taught, I can only imagine. You will only hear slander about your father. They
will instill hatred inside your heart for him. But he passes his days knowing
that there is a God above. He passes his days knowing that his blood runs in