I don’t know who found out where I buried her, let alone how they keep tracking me down to stage her body.
In my last moments, I’m feeling so much more while I desperately try to get my brakes to work.
Wherever she is now, I hope she can forgive me for how I handled everything. I never meant to hurt her.
To say it was a surprise should feel like a lie. This had been coming for a long time, no matter how hard I tried. But somehow, I convinced myself that she wouldn’t really want to leave me.
My wife told me about her family history. I didn’t think we had anything to worry about— she was okay here, wasn’t she? I was sure our daughter would be fine.
And for a while, we thought she was. Marissa was a sweet, healthy, lively little girl, even if she seemed out of place with other kids somehow.
Then she started staring at mirrors for hours, like what she saw was wrong. She felt more and more as if she didn’t belong, and Sandy and I were her staring through the windows like she was looking for something she couldn’t reach. Then one day, our fears were confirmed.
I nearly had a heart attack when a boardwalk security guard brought her to us sopping wet. He said she must have somehow slipped and fallen over the safety railing. Sandy and I exchanged a look.
We kept a closer eye on Marissa, but she became more secretive. In front of us, she’d try to be okay and it broke our hearts. If we didn’t supervise her, she’d be tearing through the house like a hurricane. She started sneaking out, and we’d find her at the seawall or the pier staring into the deep water and bracing to jump.
It scared us so badly that when I got a transfer offer for work, I took it immediately. I imagined new scenery, far away from the places she kept running to. Maybe it would keep Marissa with us.
She screamed and cried when we told her we were moving. Begged us not to take this from her and said we were ruining her life. There was arguing and crying, and finally she went to bed with tears in her eyes.
Marissa was calm about the move after that, like she’d given up or was waiting. She barely acknowledged our fight at all. I thought she’d forgiven me.
I can’t believe how wrong I was the entire time.
The night before the move, Sandy ran into our room and frantically said she heard a door slam. We checked the back door, and it was unlocked.
Neatly packed boxes had been rifled through, and there was a note in Marissa’s handwriting.
I’m sorry. I had to. Please don’t hate me for this.
I could never have hated her. What kind of a father had I been if this was what she was worried about even as she—
Sandy and I drove to the pier and searched every inch. There was no sign of our girl. I finally couldn’t hold back my tears anymore and kept crying until the sun turned the sky pale orange.
”You know it wasn’t you.”
I shook my head. “If I’d been a better father—“
”No.” Sandy shook her head. ”We knew this could happen. She’d been looking for years.”
I put my face in my hands. “I should have hidden it better.”
”Some of us…” Sandy took a deep breath. “Some of us can be happy on land, but most of my family belonged to the sea at heart.”
I watched a small shape playing in the waves off in the distance, and I could almost imagine I saw the same dotted pattern from my daughter’s seal skin.
A part of me desperately needs her to come home, but another part thinks she already did.
Daisy smiled, holding her lunchbox. The bow in her hair, striped with the school uniform colors, sat neatly in her adorable curls.
”Ready for your first day of school?” asked her father, handing her a backpack in her favorite colors— purple, blue and green.
Daisy nodded, bouncing on her toes.
”Now, before the bus gets here, let’s go over what we talked about.” Her mother knelt down. “You’re going to meet a lot of new people, and your classmates might not know all the same things as you.”
”So be patient with them,” Daisy responded.
”Good,” her father said, “and what else did we tell you?”
”Every family is different, and that doesn’t make ours wrong or bad?”
”That’s right. What else?”
”Things might be weird at school, but it’s okay because I’ll come home at the end.”
”And?”
”And… don’t talk to strangers? Unless I really have to?”
”Very good.” Daisy’s mother kissed the top of her head. “We know this is a lot, but we’re very proud of you.”
The yellow bus pulled up outside, and Daisy climbed on, watching the world through her window like it was another universe. Soon she saw a cluster of buildings with other kids streaming in— more than she’d ever seen in her life. Bright lights flashed around the front steps, and if she noticed the funny looks from all the smaller kids in her class, she didn’t say anything.
There were ten other kids like her in this school. Maybe she’d sit with them at lunch if nobody else was safe.
————————————
“I’m here live at Watterson Elementary, the heart of the controversial recent ruling. As you know, the rural settlement and alleged cult known only as the Compound was recently investigated again. While law enforcement found insufficient evidence to prove the more severe allegations by ex-members, welfare issues were reported with the children on site. It was discovered that the resident children had been trained in various homesteading and maintenance tasks but were severely behind academically and appeared to have been coached on what to tell authorities. While evidence was insufficient for removal of custody, a court ordered that the children be allowed to attend school outside of the Compound. This decision sparked a nationwide debate over whether this is government overreach on parental rights or a much-needed intervention that may still not be enough.
We’ve all seen the viral clip of a child known as “Daisy” who was unable to name the current president, identify where she lived on a map of the country or give her last name, but asked a police officer if he knew how to be safe when the world ended. Despite being ten years old and described as bright and curious by witnesses, Daisy will be starting the second grade today.
All members of the Compound declined to be interviewed.”