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Dave sat there, writing a song. He was wearing an armless v-neck t-shirt that exposed his upper arms which sported the tattoo of a nine-year-old girl, his daughter, Sussan. Sussan, or Sussie as he fondly called her, was the apple of his eyes. His love for her knew no bounds. The wooden door that led to the basement where he was working and loved to work on songs squeaked open and his daughter walked in.
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"Daddy, where is mummy?" she asked "I've been looking for her over"
"I don't know" Dave furrowed his brows. As much as he loved his daughter, he hated being disturbed, even by her.
"I guess she went to get groceries. Now, go and play baby. You know that I'm busy." Dave said, his eyes still on the sheet he was writing on.
"Doing what?" Sussie asked, coming closer to him
"I'm writing a song", he replied dryly.
"That's all you ever do when you're home. Can't you come play with me?", she asked, her tone dropping
"I said I'm busy", Dave replied nonchalantly.
"Who's gonna push me on the swing, then?" She asked
"Go swing by yourself" he yelled at her.
"Okay, sorry." She said, barely fighting back tears. She then brightened up her face and said "But, Daddy look what I made", showing him an aeroplane she had made with paper.
"Okay baby" he forced a smile at her "But Daddy's gotta catch a real plane very soon and I need to get this song ready before then"
"Daddy please come push me on the swing.
"Okay but only when I'm done with this", be finally gave up.
"Awesome!", she screamed with joy.
Dave and Sussie laughed as he pushed her on the swing, making her go back and forth.
"Okay I'm tired", Dave said and lifted Sussie off the swing.
They had been here for barely a minute so Sussie wondered how her Dad was tired so soon since Mum always pushed her on the swing and played with her for hours. But she knew better than to ask her Dad silly questions. So she followed him as he headed back into the house. Sussie picked cups while her dad brought out a big box of orange juice from the refrigerator. She dropped the cups on the table and he filled them. They both picked a cup of juice each and head to the sofa. Sussie leaned against her father and placed her head on his shoulder.
"I love you, baby", he told her
"Daddy?" she whispered
"Yes?"
"I don't want you to sing anymore. You're never at home to be there for us."
"I sing to put food on the table for you and your mother
"Then why do you always make mummy cry? Mummy is always crying when you're away. She misses you and even when you get back, you're always cold to her. Why?", Sussie asked
"Okay baby. Daddy ain't leaving no more. But I have to go this time. I promise this is the last time." Dave lied, mostly to avoid the surprisingly mature questions coming from this nine years old child.
"That's a lie. You always say that,! You always say that this is the last time."
"I'm running late," Dave said and kissed her on the forehead "I have to go. Just tell your mum to call me when she's back home."
Dave stood up and headed to his room. As he dressed up, he began to think. Truly, his music career had been causing a strain on his relationship with his wife and had been affecting his family. But he really had no choice. He wishes he could make more time to be with them, especially his daughter, but his work was so demanding. He was either recording in studios or on tour and whenever he was home he was too busy writing songs. Already dressed up, he looked up at himself in the mirror and sighed then headed out of the room. He loved his work just as much as he loved his family, if not more.
He was surprised to get the living room only to see boxes piled on top of each other in front of the door to block it and his daughter standing before the boxes.
"What are you doing Sussie?" He asked, puzzled.
She was crying and guarding the door like her life depended on it. "Daddy please don't leave".
Dave shook his head, brushed past her and shoved the boxes away angrily. Her tears escalated as the tower of boxes came tumbling down. She fell to the ground and screamed "Daddy! No! Stop!"
Dave headed out of the door into his car, not looking back as he listened to his daughter wail and cry.
Hours later, he was in the middle of a meeting when his wife informed him that Sussie had committed suicide and she was divorcing him. His heart crumbled. Little did he know that the image and sounds of her crying and begging him not to leave would be his last memories of her.
The suicide note read;
"Dear Dad,
I love you and so does mum. But since you don't have time, I guess I have to leave. But remember that, you'll always be my number one Dad forever. Now go out there and show your fans that you love them more than us. Isn't that why you never had time for us? Goodbye, Dad. I always loved the tattoo on your arms.
Your Sussie.
He cried. He wailed and begged God to take his wrecked life. His manager and business partners were offended by his sudden outburst of tears. This was a very important meeting.
"Put yourself together you dick!", a tall dark man in his forties called Jack snapped at him. Jack scolded him with such scorn and resentment that no one would have guessed that this tall dark man was his manager.
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He thought to himself, "this would be the last time I let this evil man push me. He walked up to Jack and punched him. As the entire room tried to stop them both from fighting, he somehow got close to the window. No one knew that his wife had called him about his daughter suicide. No one knew the amount of pain he was going through. No one knew how much he had sacrificed to keep his job and cater to his family.
Now that he had lost his family and his job, there was no more reason to live.
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He threw himself out of the window of the ten-storey building. "I'm coming to meet you Sussie", he said to himself as gravity pulled him to the ground. His brain is going to scatter on the ground. His bones would break and he would die a painful and dishonourable death. All that did not matter now, all he felt as he fell down was the Sussie smile, all he wished for was that he could push her on the swing one last time.
He landed on his bed, sweating profusely and panting. It was all a dream.
Daddy! Daddy!! Sussie barged in, "you promised you'll play with me and push me on the swing today". She totally ignored the scared look on his face and the sweat dripping all over his body (despite the airconditioning).
She stretched forth her hand and said: "Daddy, look what I made". She showed him an aeroplane she had made with paper.
"Daddy! please come push me on the swing."
