Page 100 of Teach Me to Fly

The wind shifts, rustling the branches overhead as I try to keep my breathing steady.

“I don’t really know if this is as weird for you as it is for me,” he continues. “I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to you about your daughter whenever I’ve visited you here.” He pauses. “But she… she’s everything to me.”

My breath catches, my hand curling against the tree bark.

“I know you probably already know that. Wherever you are. I just wanted to say…” He clears his throat. “She’s hurting. A lot. But I’ll take care of her. I’ll do whatever it takes to get her through this. I swear.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, then he glances down at the bouquet in his hand and kneels, laying the flowers down carefully. His fingers brush the edge of the tag before he lets go. Then he stands and steps back, looking at the grave one last time.

“Thank you… for her.”

He turns and walks away, his coat whipping behind him in the wind, and I wait until he’s fully out of sight before stepping out from behind the tree, my legs trembling beneath me, and my eyes burning.

I make my way forward and stop between the two oaks, staring down at the well-kept headstone.

Elijah Sinclair

Loving Father. Devoted Dancer. Gone too soon.

My eyes catchon the bouquet Reign rested at the base of the stone.My dad always said Marigolds looked like tiny suns and refused to let my mom plant anyother flower in the garden. Even after they divorced, that was the only plant he made sure stayed alive in that garden.

I blink slowly, staring down at the careful arrangement. A simple black ribbon is tied around the stems, but my eyes catch on the handwriting scratched into the small white tag attached to the ribbon. I bend down and hold the tag up so I can read it.

For the manwho left me the most important piece of himself.

—R.

I swallowaround the lump rising in my throat as I sink to my knees in front of the stone, the cold from the ground seeping into my bones. A gust of wind pushes through the trees above, making the branches creak like they're grieving too. I place my hand on the top of the headstone, grounding myself.

“Hi, Daddy,” I whisper. “Happy death day. That sounds wrong, doesn’t it?” I let out a breath that’s half a laugh, half a sob. “I don’t know what else to call it.”

I run my fingers over the grooves of his name, blinking back tears as the wind lifts my curls from my face.

“I didn’t think anyone else would come,” I whisper. “But… you’ve already had a visitor this year.”

I sit with him in silence for a while, letting the quiet hold me, then, slowly, the words come.

“Things are… bad. I don’t even know how to explain it all. I don’t even know who I am anymore. Some days I wake up and feel okay for an hour or two, and then other days, like today, I wonder what the point of all of this even is.”

My eyes sting, but I don’t wipe the tears away.

“I miss you. I miss you more now than ever. And I hate that you’re not here to tell me what to do. I don’t know how to make the hurt stop.” My voice breaks on the last word. “I don’t know how to breathe without feeling like I’m suffocating on everything that was done to me.”

I reach down and touch the ribbon Reign left, my hand trembling.

“Reign’s been amazing. And Lando too. They’re both trying so hard to keep me together, but I can’t keep leaning on them like this. I can see how scared they are, how much I’m breaking them just by existing.”

Tears fall, warm against the cold air.

“My mother doesn’t even believe me,” I whisper. “She called me to scream at me. To defend my abuser. To tell me I was ruining everything.” I laugh bitterly. “How can the one person who’s supposed to love me the most… not love me at all?”

I clutch my coat tighter, like I can hold myself together with just fabric.

“I’m so tired, Dad. I’m trying, I really am. But I feel like I’m losing the will to live. And I know that sounds dramatic and maybe it is—but I can’t stop thinking about what happened. I can’t stop feeling like I’m broken in ways that can’t ever be fixed.”

The wind picks up again, and I curl forward, resting my forehead against the cold stone, pretending it’s him as I try to stay warm.

“I love Reign,” I whisper. “God, I love him so much, and I know he’d fall apart if I ever left him. But sometimes… sometimes it feels like I’m already gone. And I don’t know how to come back. He doesn’t deserve that.”

---