Work Text:
She'd gone to the beach.
It was early morning when she got there. Night stores were just now closing, the sky slowly lost its stars.
She'd bought a one way ticket and she'd sat in a bus and in a train, staring outside, her thoughts too confused for her to remember them. When the voice called for her stop, she left her seat. Then she wandered through the streets until the smell of the sea was overwhelming, and then she walked some more until the water went all the way to her feet.
She couldn't walk anymore, so she let herself fall down, without towel or anything she'd usually take, when dad was still there.
Her wounds hurt, badly. She'd gotten a lot of stares, a few worried 'are you alright?', and she felt dizzy now. There was a buzzing noise in her ears, but the waves drowned it a little.
She buried her hands in the sand, the wind tangling her hair.
"Dad", she called out, in a whisper.
There was no one else, at this hour. Even the early risers had to get dressed before they left the house, it would be a while before she saw the first jogger.
She was sitting on the beach, looking at the sea, bleeding out.
"Dad", she called louder.
Her fingers started digging, disappearing into the wet sand. Her hair was sticking to the cuts on her face, to her eyelashes.
"I'm at the beach, dad", she said, even if her voice was breaking. "You said we'd live here."
She shook her head, and tilted it back, sniffling.
"Why aren't you there", she added, but there were sobs forming in her throat.
He'd told her they'd live on the beach. They'd live on the beach, and they'd have a house and a dog. And they'd go fishing and walking and she'd come home everyday, and he'd be there already, greeting his daughter and ruffling her hair, going 'isn't my daughter the prettiest?' while she groaned and said 'dad, stop, you're so embarassing'.
And everyday would be the same, but he'd be humming to himself while making breakfast, and he'd shout encouragements as she left for work, and he'd send her messages about everything and nothing.
"Dad!", she shouted, her eyes shut tight.
Thankfully, there was no one there. The wind had gotten worse, blowing into the naked wounds, and she was shivering. The smell of fish washed over her, there were broken shells under her fingertips.
How long could she last without treatment?
"You promised, dad", she added, her voice lower, but still as shaky, and she knew she'd start crying soon, "you promised you'd stay this time, you said-"
She couldn't keep going: she let out a strangled sound, letting her head fall back onto her chest, as the few warm tears started falling down her face, her whole body trembling. She kept her lips pursed, she'd learnt not to cry loudly, but that was all she could do.
She'd gone to the beach, and she'd avenged him already, but her father still wasn't there. She'd gone to the beach, and she was bleeding out, but her father stull wasn't there. She was dying, but her father still wasn't there.
And there was nothing left she could do.