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I wish I slapped him.
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John
89 days agoHe was lying in the hospital bed, unconscious.
Beeping machines. Oxygen mask. Swollen face.
I stood there, and I wanted to slap him.
Not out of anger…
but because I wanted to wake him up.
This was the same man who used to beat my mom and then say,
"You know I love you, right?"
The same man who told me I was useless at 17
because I failed Maths.
The same man who didn’t pay school fees for 2 years,
but bought beer for his friends every Friday.
Now they were calling him “Daddy.”
Now the nurses said “Your father is fighting.”
Fighting what?
This man didn’t fight for me.
Didn’t fight for my future.
Didn’t fight when my mom cried on the floor, begging.
Now they want me to pray?
I don’t know how to pray for someone who taught me how to be numb.
He died three days later.
I didn’t cry.
I just stood there, starting.
And I swear the only thing I heard in my head was:
“You know I love you, right?”
No, sir. I don’t.