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Sunday, August 10, 2008
Chapter 1 : Rest in Peace
The sky is cloudy today. What an appropriate weather for this significant day.
Caitlin was the only girl who dared to approach me when I was in elementary school. Since then, we were the best of friends.
I was the only one Caitlin confided in each time her father abused her. Whenever she came to school with bruises, she always covered up by saying she fell down on her own accord. I was the only one who knew the real story.
Her father frequently comes back home drunk. It is always the guilt that her father feels that driven him to drink and subsequently, hitting his own daughter. Her father could not forgive himself for causing her mother's death. On that fatal night, he and his wife was rushing to a wedding. He was speeding, and the roads were slippery that day. The car swerved and he lost all control of the car. It crashed into a speeding lorry. The last words he ever heard from his wife were, "We're going to watch a couple get married and proclaim their love for each other. But you do know that the only one I love is you." He miraculously survived that accident. However, his wife didn't. Since then, he felt guilty for being a survivor. He lived instead of his wife.
Caitlin was the victim of her father's guilt. She knew that. She quietly took her father's beatings and prayed for it to end quickly. After he finished, she then ran to her room to call me. I couldn't do anything, as she sobbed into the phone. All I could do was to say was soothing words to calm her down.
Then, when we were 16, Caitlin and her father moved to another state. That was the last I saw of her.
I walked across the empty graveyard. I felt raindrops falling on my head. As I laid down the bouquet of flowers I brought with me, I said "Hullo, Caitlin, it's been a while." The tombstone I laid my flowers on read, "R.I.P Caitlin Whitby, 1989 - 2006"
Today is Caitlin's second death anniversary. She was 17 when she died.
Caitlin was the only girl who dared to approach me when I was in elementary school. Since then, we were the best of friends.
I was the only one Caitlin confided in each time her father abused her. Whenever she came to school with bruises, she always covered up by saying she fell down on her own accord. I was the only one who knew the real story.
Her father frequently comes back home drunk. It is always the guilt that her father feels that driven him to drink and subsequently, hitting his own daughter. Her father could not forgive himself for causing her mother's death. On that fatal night, he and his wife was rushing to a wedding. He was speeding, and the roads were slippery that day. The car swerved and he lost all control of the car. It crashed into a speeding lorry. The last words he ever heard from his wife were, "We're going to watch a couple get married and proclaim their love for each other. But you do know that the only one I love is you." He miraculously survived that accident. However, his wife didn't. Since then, he felt guilty for being a survivor. He lived instead of his wife.
Caitlin was the victim of her father's guilt. She knew that. She quietly took her father's beatings and prayed for it to end quickly. After he finished, she then ran to her room to call me. I couldn't do anything, as she sobbed into the phone. All I could do was to say was soothing words to calm her down.
Then, when we were 16, Caitlin and her father moved to another state. That was the last I saw of her.
I walked across the empty graveyard. I felt raindrops falling on my head. As I laid down the bouquet of flowers I brought with me, I said "Hullo, Caitlin, it's been a while." The tombstone I laid my flowers on read, "R.I.P Caitlin Whitby, 1989 - 2006"
Today is Caitlin's second death anniversary. She was 17 when she died.