THE PAIN WITHIN

A knock resonated on my door. I woke up from my slumber, reclined on my bed, and cleaned my eyes with the back of my right hand.

"It's not locked. You can come in," I invited.

My sister walked in, obviously still in her blue pajamas. Her hair looked shabby like one who had spent all night rolling on her bed. Her eyes were still struggling with sleep. I could tell she had been forced to end her slumber. She sat on the bed and greeted, "Good morning."

"You seem tired," I said. "Still yet to recover from yesterday's hunt, I presume."

"You have no idea. Dad wants to see everyone in the living room. He said he had something to say. Something important."

"Did he wake up on the right side of the bed?" I glanced at my clock. "It's 5 a.m."

My sister walked to the exit and said, "See you in the living room." She left and shut the door.

Now, I began to wonder what my dad had in mind. I slid down from my bed and placed my feet in my fluffy flip-flops. I looked in the mirror and observed my shabby hair. Here, I was thinking my sister's hair was terrible; I looked like a warrior in exile. I looked like one thrown in a large ocean; my pajamas had seemed so big. Looks like I had lost weight overnight. "Let's just go," I mused and made my way to the living room.

In the living room, I met my dad, who was also wearing pajamas, sitting next to my sister on the same couch.

"Good morning, Dad," I greeted, sitting on a separate couch.

"Good morning, kiddo," my dad replied, rubbing his palms together. "How was your night?"

"Short. Obviously."

My uncle came out of the guest room. He was wearing a black robe, one he had always used to sleep in for as long as I could remember. His hair didn't seem shabby. Seems he took extra time to take care of his looks.

"Y'all don't realize it's 5 a.m.? If I were in my house, I'd still be in bed by now. I hope this will be good or else, that hunt won't be the only thing taking a toll on everyone," my uncle said, taking his seat on a couch, next to me.

"Thanks so much for coming, Adam," my dad expressed his gratitude.

"Just get to it already," my uncle said.

"I want to thank everyone who made yesterday's hunt a success. I did not doubt that all of us would survive. I know we all had our moments. Moments of disgust, pain, and fear. Yesterday, Matthew and May came through for us. Though they may be in their homes right now, I've sent my heartfelt appreciation to them. They've shown that they're good family friends. I do hope we see them some other time in the future," my father sighed. "Yesterday, I realized how one could easily go to the grave. I felt closer to it than I ever have. May was right. If we continue like this, there is a certainty that I will lose one of you."

"What are you insinuating, Dad?" Emma asked.

"I'm saying I'm going to stop you both from the monthly hunt," my dad answered, gesturing to me and my sister.

"What? Are you serious?" I asked.

"It's my fault that I lost your mother. I was too weak to protect her," my father sobbed. "You both mean the world to me; I don't want to lose you the same way I lost your mother. You're this family's legacy. The reason why I've relentlessly pushed all this time isn't because I want to avenge your mom. Guilt burns inside of me. This guilt keeps pushing me to the edge. If I lose any of you, I won't forgive myself. And I'm sure your mom won't forgive me too. Yeah, no more hunting for both of you. I'll do it alone."

"What are you saying, dad? Do you realize that you could die out there? Do you realize how vicious those wolves are?" Emma exclaimed.

"Emma, keep shut," my uncle commanded. "Your dad is still talking."

"Death will be redemption for me at this point," my dad said.

"Dad, is this a joke? What if you don't come back after a hunt? You want me to be an orphan at an early age?" I asked.

"This is ridiculous!" my sister yelled and stormed out of the living room.

I gave out a deep sigh and a tear slowly trickled down my face.

"You made the right choice, John. The role of a father is to make the toughest choices. You've done just that. I'm proud of you," my uncle stated.

"Emma," my father called out.

"Leave her alone. She's just a kid; she'll understand later," my uncle said.

I sniffed and used my right palm to clean my face. "I have to prepare for school," I said, returning to my room.

"Em-" my dad called.

My uncle gave out a loud sigh and said, "You should have done this a long time ago."

When I got to my room, I shut my door and sank on my bed. I screamed and cried. The fear of losing my father washed over me. I felt a sharp pain in my heart. I didn't know what to prepare myself for - the upcoming death of my father or the certainty of becoming an orphan.

When I was done shedding tears, I hit the bathroom to prepare for school. At least, the fun I would have with my friends would help me forget the pain within.

I had gotten dressed in a short while and prepared my mind that I was going to trek to school. A knock reverberated from my door and I decided to check who it was. It was my sister. She had taken her bath, dressed in a blue shirt and black trousers, wore black boots, and had her hair combed.

"Take your bag and meet me in the garage. I'll take you to school," she left.

I admired the resilience my sister had displayed. I quickly packed my bag and headed to the garage. I joined my sister in the front seat, and we began our journey to my school.

"You know they'll kill him, right?" Emma inquired.

I nodded, looking through the window.

"This isn't what mom would have wanted," my sister shook her head.

"What are you going to be doing now?"

"Continue my music career, make some friends, read some books. Prepare myself for the hard days ahead."

"At least, you'll be going out again."

My sister chuckled and nodded.