Their Unintended Goodbyes

His hair was unkempt. His face was rough with his stubble. His eyes were bloodshot. When did he last sleep, he had no idea of knowing. All that was on his mind was to find his daughter, his flesh and blood.

My little princess is gone.

The tattered map in his hand which was worn by his desperate handling was vandalized repeatedly with crosses, circles and arrows. His hands were marked with red ink and splotches, but he cared not about the quality of the red marker that his hand gripped at the start and end of every day. He did not even notice the coffee stains on his cream shirts, or that his socks were mismatched on most days.

They only see a man in dirty clothes.

He could not remember how many places he had been to. Looking at his watch, he realised that it had been nearly two months since her disappearance. He stared at the stars in the night sky from the car.

“Papa, look at that star!”

“There are millions of stars in the sky, sweetheart.”

“The brightest one!”

“…”

“Papa, that star represents me! I will always be your biggest and brightest star! And you will be the sun then! And Mama the moon! Because the moon and the sun will always take turns to take care of the stars, just like how Papa takes care of me during the day and Mama in the night in my dreams!”

“The sun is a star, cupcake.”

“It is? Oh.”

 

He should not have corrected her. He regretted it, for her face crumpled instantly. That disappointed face of hers had been etched in his memory since that day on.

 

I promise to keep your face shining forever; that you will never have a sad day.

 

Looking at the stars now, he could just picture her sitting next to him with half her body out of the window, admiring the night sky with him. It was a full moon tonight. Remembering what she said, he made an unspoken wish to the moon.

 

Gina, please look after her tonight too. Keep her safe and warm. That she will not need to sleep on hard ground. That her stomach is not rumbling in chilling hunger. That she will not get bitten by bugs. That you will watch over her.

 

He woke up the next morning with renewed determination. With a cup of strong black coffee and a piece of stale bread gotten from a convenience store he stopped at, he looked at his map yet again. He had showed the photo of his little girl to the store owner just a while ago, but to no avail. At least he managed to get another store to help him hand out posters of his missing child. Perhaps it was time to move on to the fifth town. He would not give up.

 

Who will save her if I do so?

 

He wondered if there was enough money left to go on. He had resigned from his job in the bank and took a loan from the bank to embark on this journey. The police would never find his daughter, he realised. It was just easier to just take action himself. Checking his bank balance, there should be enough to go on for another few months. Good thing that he had been scrimping on his necessities.

 

What use will those necessities be if I can heighten my chances of finding my princess?

 

“Papa, your face is prickly! Like the bark of the tree, it hurts!”

“Oh, sorry. Should Papa shave?”

“Yeah! I want to see!”

“So, you just slather this white cream on the skin….And then use the razor, to scrape against the skin slowly and carefully…”

“I want to do it on myself too!”

“No you can’t sweetie! Don’t pout!”

“I’m not pouting!”

“Awww…Why not I make some pancakes for breakfast today?”

 

A faint smile appeared on his face as the memory surfaced in his mind - the kitchen got really messy that morning, for his daughter tried to juggle the pancakes after they were made.

 

He touched his stubble which was days old. Sighing, he got a razor from his travel bag before locking the car to proceed to the nearest restroom to shave. At least he would look cleaner that way.

 

If you were here, you will complain and sulk about your Papa’s stubble, won’t you?

 

After cleaning up, he got back to the car and decided to drive to the next town. It will be a tedious search all over again. With the repetitive questioning to do whilst showing his beloved wallet photo of his child to uncaring strangers, who would give him piteous glances before moving on with their own businesses again. He hated it even more when people just throw away the leaflets he gave out about his missing daughter. He would try to get them back from the dustbin if the contents inside were not too dirty or wet.

 

But they think that I’m a gross creature, searching through the rubbish like a madman. Who are they to judge me, a father who printed those leaflets painstakingly to find my daughter?

 

A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie. It was an old lady in her fifties, who was walking her great dame.

 

“I’ve seen her.” She beckoned. “I’ve seen your girl. She was here just two days ago, with a group of people.”

 

“Where did they go? Please tell me, please!” He pleaded. He prayed that it would not be a false alarm - he doubted his heart would be able to take it.

 

Based on the lady’s recount, his daughter was kidnapped, and not lost. He hurried to where the group was last seen. It was a club located at a secluded area, just behind a derelict building opposite an old train station which was not in use anymore.

 

Dare I hope that this will be the end? That we will finally have a family reunion?

 

He entered the seedy underground basement where the club was. It was filled with pungent odours and strobe lights. There were plenty who were obviously on drugs and had yet to come down from their high. The frenzied dancing and maniacal laughter was enough to tell. Moving subtly to the tiny restrooms, he took out his phone to call the police.  

 

Wait for me, Papa will rescue you soon.

 

It took another fifteen minutes for the police to arrive. The longest fifteen minutes of his life. During that time, it took all of his resolve not to launch at every door in the building to save his daughter. Drug dealers, transvestites, hookers, even the dancers, threw themselves at him freely, before moving on to other customers when he expressed indifference. He silently sipped at his beer on his barstool at the counter, trying to calm his nerves.

 

Please let nothing happen to my princess. What if…What if she has been turned into one of them?!

 

Most were too wasted to even realise that the police had arrived. Only a few put up much resistance and the entire building was checked. It was not long before his daughter was carried out, to where he was waiting nervously. They laid her on the ground tenderly, careful not to cause anymore damage.

 

Who is she?

 

The test report concluded that she was indeed his daughter, but he could not help denying it. She was not the girl they found. Her body had been mutilated beyond recognition. Her once innocent and shining face was marred and twisted in agony. She had died in pain, while gripping onto a locket tightly. In fact, the staff had difficulties wrenching the locket out from her grasp while performing the autopsy.

 

Is that her?

 

“Papa, I want that locket!”

“You already have plenty of accessories at home.”

“Please? I promise I won’t beg you for more.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“…”
“Fine, how much is it?”

“Thank you! I promise to treasure it always!”

 

There were no tears, for all were spent during the weeks searching for her, his beloved child. Instead, his body keeled with grief. He was left all alone in the world.

 

Gina, is she with you now?

 

 

Wait for me.