Hot Daddy: My Beautiful Morning

Fragile

"Kejora."

Daddy's? Where is daddy?

"Kejora, Honey. Hey, wakeup. What's wrong with you?"

I turned to follow the voice, the soft voice, the voice I had known all my life, but I kept my eyes closed. I'm afraid that it's not real. If only I had been dreaming. Those words sounded again.

"Kejora... Baby... Can you hear me? Don'tbeafraid. I'm right here. Open your eyes."

I opened my eyes slowly. His face looks more focused. Tears stung, and my throat burned.

"You look agitated."

"I'm doing fine. Just a nightmare."

"Clean your mind, honey. Relax, yeah. Quiet." Calm."

I nodded, then turned towards the wall clock. It's almost six in the afternoon. I'm thirsty, hungry too. I looked up at the table, there were fruits, as well as bread and chocolate jam, a crib of chicken, plus a tray of food from the hospital. But the curiosity in my heart was more rebellious than the hunger in my stomach.

"Is Mr Fikri awake?"

Daddy was stunned, then he nodded. "Yes," he said.

"Who is he, Dad? Why is he always around me?"

Daddy's facial wrinkle implies ignorance. He even seemed surprised to hear my question.

Daddy speechless. It was as if my question was the most difficult one he had ever heard and he was unable to answer it.

"Do I have to guess it myself?"

Daddy lowered. How obvious he is to avoid my eyes that imply a thousand question marks, then he is nervous, "He is your mother's cousin."

Oh my God, my heartache combined with a headache. That day I was surprised by many things. And this fact makes my feelings hurt.

"He's one of my mother's rape perpetrators?"

The answer is a nod. I know, Daddy felt the pain. Bitter events in the past seem to repeat themselves. Same face, same person, same situation. It's just that at this time Mr. Fikri plays a hero, no longer as a criminal - a predator of women who prey on their victims savagely.

"I was shocked to see the man" said Daddy, his voice hoarse. "I was. I seemed to see what was, what I had never seen. And again I feel like a failure...." A clear thread dripped from his eyes, but Daddy tried hard, wiping his tears over and over again. "I'm sorry, Keen. Sorry...."

I was hurt, very psychologically wounded, mentally wounded. But this man in front of me was also experiencing the same thing. He was also injured - the same wounds, repeated wounds. All I know is it hurts more.

Don't be fragile, Kejora. You're a force for Daddy. His past is to be treated, not to be envied. Relax, Kejora. Calm. You're fragile on the inside, but you have to look strong for this guy.

"I'm sorry, I'm negligent. Neglect again."

I'm nodding. "Already, Daddy. I'm hungry, thirsty. Wanna eat. Would help?"

Shamefully, Daddy smiled. Then he was busy cleaning his moist face because of tears. "Want to eat? I'm a bribe, huh?"

He got up, stood up and took my food tray. I also asked for cold water to cool my throat. After the first mouthful that tasted almost tasteless, I asked, "Daddy has eaten?"