The Father of Her Child

                                                          

“We need to talk.” Natasha said after five minutes of absurd silence. 

“About what?” Mickey finally got out of the daze that he’d been lost in and spoke.

“About you, and me, and us. What is the matter with you Mick? What is it that you are hiding from me? What’s been bothering you?” She said choking on the last words of her sentence, trying hard to stop herself from breaking down.

Was he the same person she’d fallen in love with fourteen years ago? Was he the same vivacious Mickey who carried smiles with him everywhere he went? Was he the man who gave her headaches with his constant jabber? No, he wasn’t her Mick, he wasn’t the man she’d been married to. He seemed like an imposter. A replica of her husband. A statue that had no emotions, something that couldn’t feel, just react, with anger and violence.

His silence was slaughtering her. It had been six months. It was as if he was punishing himself for something he’d done and was too ashamed to confess.  The only thing that ever broke his hush was his sudden gushes of aggressiveness towards their daughter, Mia.

She didn’t know what it was, all she knew was that it was eating him up. It was exhausting his spirit to live and she comprehended that when she saw tranquilizers next to the anti depressants he’d been prescribed by his psychiatrist, Dr. Eric Smith.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Mickey spoke in a feeble voice.  “ We’re doing just fine.”

“Fine!” she let out a nervous laugh. “We’re fine. Yeah, we’re fine. We’re a normal happy family, aren’t we Mickey? A normal family with a man hiding blades and a knife and sleeping pills in his cupboard. “ She bawled running towards his cupboard and throwing all his clothes on the floor to take out his weapons of self-destruction.

Mickey stood still next to the bed, looking ashamed and horrified. Trying to think of something to say to his wife, to the woman he loved; to the woman he’d married, to the mother of his daughter.

“What’s it Mick? Why are you doing this to me, to us, to Mia? What’s wrong; please tell me what’s happened to you? Trust me, there’s nothing we can’t sort. Tell me, Mickey, please tell me!” Natasha fell on the floor like broken pieces of glass, weeping and gasping for breath.

Mickey ran towards her and embraced her saying, “Everything will be alright, I promise. I swear things will be just fine. I’ll get out of it. For you, for me, for Mia.”

                                                                                        *

Mickey was as restless as ever that night. He shut his eyes tight and tried to find sleep in the depths of darkness for a while, but failed. He thought of all the sinful thoughts and images that had been invading his mind for a while now. He cursed himself and tried not to think about it, but failed. Then he felt himself losing control once again. Losing himself in the pink and blue polka doted blanket. The blanket that was too small for an adult to fit into. The one he desperately wanted to rip apart to make space for himself. He picked up the blanket from her petite delicate body and ran his cold fingers over her warm bony legs. He tried stopping himself from going any further but failed, for he wasn’t Mickey Jones anymore- husband of Natasha Jones and father of Mia Jones. He was something else. A demon, as he liked to call himself. His heart pounded as he reached over and kissed her on her baby soft skin and sniffed her hair that smelled of bubblegum.  He lay next to her for a while, moving his hand gently over her chest from underneath her pink colored nightshirt. She moved a bit and moaned softly.  He bent down towards her and whispered into her ear. “You know I love you more than anyone in the world, don’t you?” She lay still with her eyes closed, looking like a little angel.

“Forgive me, my love.”  He cried and got on top of her. She opened her eyes and kept beaming at the demon until the realization and pain of what was happening sank into her juvenile mind. She tried fighting him, failed, and let out a piercing agonized cry…

                                                                                     *

Mickey snapped out of his dream, alarmed and sweaty. Her shriek echoed in his ears for a while. He lay in his bed with his eyes wide open trying to breathe. He got up from his bed in half an hour and started to get dressed. It was seven a.m.; He had an appointment with Dr. Smith in precisely two hours.

The phone rang at the Jones residence at Eleven thirty a.m. Natasha answered it. Dr, Smith’s assistant called her and Mia to the clinic. Mickey had a nervous breakdown talking to Dr. Smith that day.

“Natasha, Mickey is not just my patient. He’s also my best friend, and so have you. So just remember I’m with you in this.” Said Dr. Smith.

“Don’t beat around the bush Eric, get to the point. What is it? Is it work? Is it some sort of financial pressure? What is the darned problem?” Natasha hyperventilated.

“Natasha, I need to talk to Mia.” Eric said with a sympathetic face.

“What the…What could Mia have to do with this? “ She stood up, bewildered.

“Relax, Natasha, I know this is hard. You’ve got to be brave.”  Eric stood up from his chair to calm her down.

“I don’t get it, what’s wrong with him? Will you tell me?” She walked towards the couch where Mia sat and brushed her Barbie Doll’s hair.

“We suspect Mickey of being a pedophile.” Eric announced.

“What the….” Natasha let out a half nervous, half amused smirk. “Stop shitting around, Eric.”

“Sir, Officer Mosby from the Sex Offenders Register wants to talk to Mrs. Jones, Mia and you. Should I send him in?” Dr. Smith’s assistant informed him.

Eric looked at Natasha not knowing what to say next, Natasha froze for a while, and then fell on the couch next to Mia and broke into a fit of tears.