"The Cape"

    I find myself sitting up in the hospital bed staring out the window at the rising sun. As I look at my bandaged wrists, I feel ashamed that this didn't come to an end last night. I don't know how I got here, but whoever brought me to the hospital, I can't wait to tell them how much I hate them for saving me. Their act of bravery ruined my happiness. They only gave me a second chance to end my misery.
    I lie back down on my bed, and rub my hands across the bandages. Even though I survived this attempt, my mind begins to think of ways to make the next one successful. I didn't want to be saved. I want to make sure the next time I do this; there will be no chance for heroics. After this past year, I have nothing to live for anymore. In my heart, I wish I tried this much sooner instead of enduring the pain I've been through this past year.
    "You were always a wimp," I hear a voice I swear I would never hear again.
    "No fucking way!" I exclaim as I scan my room. There is no chance I'm hearing his voice right now. I watched him die a year ago, yet his voice is clear as day. I quickly dismiss it as a side effect of whatever drugs the nurses gave me when I was admitted into this hellhole. I want out of here so I can end this ongoing torture known as my shitty life.
    "I swore I raised a man, not a pussy," I hear the voice say. "Grow a fucking pair, and face life instead of taking the easy way out."
    "I must be stoned on painkillers or some shit," I sigh.
    "Look in the mirror, dumb ass," the voice mocks me.
    I turn towards the mirror, and fall to the floor in shock. I lay there on the cold tile floor while sobbing, "I can't be seeing him...he's dead..."
    I feel two hands around my neck as I'm quickly yanked off the floor. I find myself staring into my father's steel blue eyes as he holds me up by my neck. I can feel the warmth of his blood as his calloused hands scratch against my skin. He's wearing his red plaid shirt and jeans, the same outfit he took his own life in. The only difference is his hair is no longer gray, but
black.
    "Right now, I'm alive enough to kick your ass," he says as he slams me onto the bed, and knocks the wind out of me. I lay there gasping for air as my dead father holds me down to the point it feels like an elephant is sitting on my chest.
    "I...can't...breathe," I mutter between each gasp.
    "What's the matter? You don't want to die by my hands, but want to be a little bitch and kill yourself like I did, son?" he shouts as he punches his right hand through the hospital bed while his left hand presses down on my throat.
    "Hello...kettle..." I gasp as I begin to see dots floating in front of my eyes. "I'm...pot...father..."
    He gets off of me and sits down in the chair next to the bed. I lay on the bed breathing heavily for my deceased father almost ended my life in this hospital room. He lets out of a
sigh as I see tears in his eyes.
    "There's a difference between you and I," he states as I sit up in the bed. "I had nothing left to live for, but you still do."
    "What about me? I'm not a reason to keep on living?" I snap back as I slam my fist onto the bed.
    "I was already dead that night you found me," he replies while wiping away his tears. "You, however, still have a life ahead of you."
    "Bullshit, Dad. You weren't drying!" I shout.
    "You really don't remember?" he asks with a stern tone. "Did your brain commit suicide as well?"
    "Did you crawl out of whatever Hell you live to be a massive prick to me today, or is there a fucking point?" I retort in an angry tone to him while flicking him off. I don't know if this is real or a bad trip. Either way, I don't need my dead father giving me a bunch of shit after the night that I wish I never woke up from.
    "The point of my visit is a reminder," states Dad. "A reminder that if you do end your life, two lives will end."
    "Yeah, let me take advice from someone who decided to increase their lead intake with a bullet to the head," I retort.
    "You really did forget the events of that night?"
    "I came home to find my dead father holding a pistol with blood rushing out of his ear. What did I forget?"
    "It wasn't a bullet that killed me, son."
    "Was it the recoil?"
    "Shut up the fuck up! Use your brain for once, Tony!" he yells. "Look back and recall my last year alive before you say another damn word while thinking about Sarah."
    I close my eyes, and let out a sigh. Once he was put into the ground, I did my best to bury those memories deep within my subconscious. However, last night, they began to trickle free from the mental damn I created. Now, I have to unleashed the tidal wave of emotions I've been holding back to make it through life.
    I begin to think about the night I lost him. I came home from the bar drunk around midnight or so. I went out because Dad and I spent all day in the doctor's office, and I wanted to numb my mind to relieve the stress. I recall stumbling into the living room, and seeing him sleeping in the chair. I saw his 1911 on his lap and the trail of dried blood that started in his ear.
    I begin to cry when I begin remembering that the gun wasn't loaded, and the cleaning kit was on the end table. I was so intoxicated that my mind made a rush decision, and I called it in to 911 as a suicide. I never saw anything through the tears streaming out of my eyes besides the blood on my dad's face and his Colt in his lap. I went numb when I hung up the phone, and never took a deeper look.
    Once the paramedics removed the body and the cops left, I began packing up the essential things my daughter and I needed. I wasn't staying in the house a second longer then I had too. We were vacating that night so I can leave behind the painful memories. From that moment on, I became so numb that I never realized that I've been rushing to conclusions without looking at all the evidence in front of me.
    I also never thought that a year later, I was trying to escape my own failure as a father by doing what I thought went on that tragic day. My father died on his own accord, but here I am trying to end my life without thinking about my own daughter. She's the main thing I have to live for in this life, and without here, she'll become a foster child lost in the system. My dad never abandoned me, and I'll be damn if I'm going to do the same.
    As I look at my old man, I finally realize it wasn't the gun that killed him that night. He passed way from the inoperable brain tumor he lived with the last two years of his life. The man suffered through his living hell, but not once did he try to take the cowardly way out like I did last night. He stayed alive to be there for Sarah and me as long as he could. He's the man I will never be no matter how hard I try.
     "I'm sorry, Dad," I sob. "I'm a failure."
    "No, son, you're not yet. We all fall down, but what makes one not a failure is getting back up, and facing the obstacles in front of you."
    "I never stop to think what will happen with Sarah if I was gone," I say as I wipe the tears away from my eyes. "I'm the only stable person in her life."
    "Well, next time you get this low, think about her," he replies smiling.
    "I will, Dad."
    "Well, my time has expired here, and you need to wake up," he says while standing up.
    "Wake up?" I ask with a confused look across my face.
    As he opens his mouth, the room is filled with a high-pitched, shrieking noise. As the sound increases in volume, the lights begin to rise in brightness to the point I have to close my eyes to shield them from the blinding light. As I close my eyes, I fell myself slowly drift into sleep.
    "Goodbye for now, son," I hear my father say as everything fades to black.
    I jump up so fast I fall back in the wood chair I'm sitting in, landing on the floor with a loud thud as the chair breaks underneath my weight. I let out a groan as my back begins to throb. I drag myself off the floor, and see I'm in my kitchen. I look at my wrist, and see no bandages or any signs of scarring or fresh wounds.
    I let out a sigh for it was all a dream till I see a piece of notebook paper on the table next to an Exacto knife. I pick up the paper, and begin to read it. As I realize what I wrote, I feel the tears stream down my cheeks despite my heart burning in rage.  I'm a tempest of emotions as I read what would have been my last words I written in the world, and not one mentioned anything about my daughter.
    I tear the note up, and shove the pieces into my mouth as the tears keep flowing. I gulp the paper down, a symbolic gesture of me swallowing my pride to take on life and be brave for her. I can't believe I became so selfish that I put my needs before Sarah's. As Dad said, I would have ended two lives tonight, and I can't let that happen.
    I pick up the knife, and carefully wrap it up into some newspaper to cover the blade. I toss it into the trash, and walk out of the kitchen. I quickly head upstairs to Sarah's room. I quietly open the door, and peek my head in. She's still asleep in her bed snuggling onto her stuffed bunny. I close door, and head into my room. I pass out the instant my head hits the pillow.
    "Dad! Wake up!" I hear Sarah shout.
    "Five more minutes," I mumble.
    "Now!" she shrieks.
    "All right," I say as I pull the covers off my head. Out of the corner of my eyes I see my Dad standing over my bed with a big smile on his face.
    "Today is your second chance at life, Tony. Use it wisely," he says before vanishing into thin air.
    "I will," I say as I wipe a tear from eye. My Dad appeared in a dream to save my own life. After all this time, that man will do anything to help me succeed despite me thinking he was a coward for the past year. A vision about my failed attempt at ending life has opened my eyes to how much living I have in front of me.
    "Daddy!" shouts Sarah as she leaps onto my bed. She rushes towards the head of the bed and kisses my cheek. "Wake up!"
    "I'm up, silly. Why are you so excited?" I ask before letting out a yawn.
    "It's Saturday, and you promised to take to me to the park," she whines. "Now, get up!"
    I reach my hand over and tickle her side. She shrieks in delight as I keep tickling her for another good minute before I stop. As she catches her breath, I tell her, "Go get ready so we can go."
    "Okay," she says before jumping off the bed, and rushes out of the room.
    I pull myself out of my bed, and stumble into the bathroom. I quickly get myself ready to take the love of my life to the park like I promised her. I take a glance in the mirror and stare at my wrists. I'm almost tempted to get Sarah's name and birthday tattooed on my wrists as a reminder that no matter how bleak it seems, there's always something to live and fight for.
    I step out of the bathroom, and see her sitting on the bed. I almost laugh for she's a pink dress wearing her red cape. She put her blond hair into a bun with her monkey scrunchie. I'm glad she at least put her sneakers on instead of her swimming fins she loves wearing around the house.
    She scrunches her nose at me and says, "You're not dressed, Daddy."
    I look down and ask, "Why not? My shoes are on, and I'm wearing pants."
    She pulls out a large, red piece of fabric and replies, "You're missing your cape."
    I take the fabric, and see it's a cape, complete with straps to tie it around my neck. On the back, in bold, yellow lettering it reads "Super Dad". It takes every inch of willpower not to cry right now as I put on my cape.
    "Now, you're a superhero you've always been, Dad," she says smiling.
    "After the park, we're so getting ice cream," I reply.
    "With sprinkles?"
    "With whatever you want, Sarah."
    She jumps for joy and tackles my leg trying to hug me. At this point, I break down and cry as I give her a big hug. I give her a kiss on her forehead and whisper, "I will always be your super hero, Sarah. I promise."
    She wipes my tears away with her cape while saying, "Super heroes don't cry, Daddy."
    I stand up and say, "No, they take their daughter..." I
pause for a moment and shout, "To the park!"
    Even though she will never know how close she came to losing me last night. As I follow her as we run out the apartment in our capes, all I can think about is how I don't deserver to wear this cape right now. However the sparkle in her eyes tells me I'll never be a disappointment to her. As long as I keep fighting each day for her, I'll always be the superhero in her eyes worthy of this cape.