Short Story
In the bank lobby, she sits in an office chair, waiting for a loan officer to call her. Emily rubbed her thumb over the faint scar on her thigh, the skin tough and knotted from the stitches. The scar, like her childhood, was chaotic and unstable, a raggedy gash of screaming and sadness. The memories flooded her mind, and in a moment, she was no longer in the bank but in the household of her youth.
At ten years old, with dark brown hair, Emily loved her father. Her earliest memories of her father were his short brown hair and the smell of aftershave. He used to buy her toys and take her to the movies, and she would sit in his lap and listen to him tell stories. He was a construction worker by trade but a father at heart. But he had his dark moments
One night her father came home late; she peeked out of her bedroom door to see him stumbling around the living room, knocking over furniture and slurring his words.
“We can't keep living like this, John”, Emily’s mother said with a shaky voice, “our daughter can't keep living like this.”
“What are you talking about?” John, Emily’s father, replied with a sneer, “you want to leave me, you think you can take this away from me?”
"No, I don't want to leave you," Emily's mother said, fear creeping into her voice. "But I can't keep putting up with this. You need to get help, John. You need to get sober."
"I don't need help!" John yelled, slamming his fist on the table. "You're the one who needs to get in line. And if you try to take my life away from me, I'll make sure you regret it."
Her father wasn't always unpredictable and frightening. There was a time when it seemed like everything would get better. John started to go to rehab, and her mother got a job.
But as Emily grew older, she learned that addiction was a monster that didn't go away easily. The monster consumed her father, and every time he fell, he brought the family down with him. Emily watched as her mother tried to keep the family together, but the stress was too much, and they often found themselves arguing.
One day, when Emily was fifteen, her father came home from a bar in a drunken stupor. He stumbled into Emily's room, and without warning, he hit her with a bottle. Emily fell to the ground, clutching her thigh, blood spilling out of the wound. "I hate you!" Emily screamed as her father ran out of the house. "I wish you were dead!"
Emily's mother rushed her to the hospital, and the doctors stitched up her wound. When her father didn't come home, they assumed he had passed out somewhere. But the next morning, they learned that he had died in a motorcycle accident. The news left Emily feeling numb. Despite everything, he was still her father.
Years passed, and Emily grew up, but the scar on her thigh remained. It was a reminder of her past, of the loss of innocence and the pain that came with it. But she had learned to live with it, to accept that sometimes, scars are a part of life.
As Emily sat in the bank lobby, waiting for the loan officer to call her, she thought about her father. She wondered what he would think of her now, of the woman she had become. She wondered if he would be proud of her or if he would have been disappointed that she hadn't followed in his footsteps. But Emily knew that her father's addiction was not her burden to bear. She had come a long way from the scared little girl who had been hit with a bottle. She had worked hard to build a life for herself, to make something of herself despite the odds. She had found her strength in the midst of the chaos and had become the woman she was today. As the loan officer called her name, Emily stood up and walked towards his office, her hand rubbing over the scar on her thigh. She was ready to take the next step in her life, to move forward and leave the past behind.
The loan officer greeted Emily with a smile, but she could sense his hesitation as he reviewed her credit history. She had worked hard to repair her credit after years of struggling, but the scarlet letter of debt still haunted her. "I'm sorry, Miss. Smith," the loan officer said, shaking his head, "but I'm afraid we won't be able to approve your loan application. Your credit score is still too low." Emily's heart sank, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes. She had been so close to finally achieving her dream of starting her own business. "But I can give you some resources and advice on how to improve your credit," the loan officer continued, "there are also some other options you can explore, like crowdfunding or microloans." Emily took a deep breath, wiping away the tears. She realized that this setback was not the end of her journey, just a detour. She thanked the loan officer for his help and left the bank, determined to keep moving forward. As she walked down the street, Emily noticed a poster for a local fundraiser for addiction recovery. The image on the poster was of a broken chain, symbolizing the breaking of addiction's hold.
Emily thought about her father and the chains of addiction that had gripped him. She realized that his addiction had not only scarred her physically but emotionally and mentally as well. Emily decided to attend the fundraiser and offer her support. She knew that she couldn't change the past, but she could help others who were struggling with addiction. At the fundraiser, Emily saw people of all ages and backgrounds, sharing their stories of addiction and recovery. She felt a sense of camaraderie with them, knowing that she wasn't alone in her struggles. She met a woman named Susan, who had overcome addiction and was now a successful entrepreneur. Susan offered to mentor Emily and help her with her business plan. Over the next few months, Emily worked tirelessly on her business plan and reached out to potential investors. With Susan's guidance and support, she was able to secure the funding she needed to start her business. Emily opened a bakery that specialized in gluten-free and vegan treats, which became an instant hit in the community. Emily realized that her scar was not a symbol of her past but a reminder of her strength and resilience. She had overcome the odds and built a successful business, despite the challenges she had faced. As she closed up the bakery one evening, Emily rubbed her hand over the scar on her thigh, feeling a sense of gratitude. She knew that she wouldn't be where she was today if it weren't for the struggles she had faced. She had turned her scars into stars and had found meaning in the chaos.
I miss having funny stories.
Created: June 5, 2023