A Flicker in the Dark

by Stacy Willingham

Whoever fights monsters should see to it that, in the process, he does not become a monster. If you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.

Daddy issues. Only child syndrome. A product of divorce.

I down the rest of my wine and wave in his direction. The darkness has enveloped him now, but I know he’s still there. Waiting. “In a while, crocodile,” I whisper, staring into the shadows. The silence is broken then by the crunching of leaves beneath his feet, and within seconds, I know he’s gone.

So instead, they think only of today. And what they can do today to bring their babies back tomorrow.

I fear all situations where I’m not in control.

I’ll always credit that moment as the beginning of it all.

He was looking for sympathy, I realized.

Slowly, a smile forms on her lips, and I break out into a scream.

But in this moment, locked in his arms, the heat of his breath sending goose bumps up my neck, a dead girl’s necklace hidden in the depths of our closet, I start to wonder if there is more to this man than what I’ve always thought.

I just never took the time to let her talk back.

And if she was in love with a monster … what did that make her?

After all, it was my words that had put my father behind bars; it seemed only fitting that my conversation with Cooper, twenty years later, would be the one to free him.

Because that’s what parents do: They protect their children, no matter the cost.