Farewell, The One I Love the Most

While the killer was stabbing me left and right, my dad was stitching up a teddy bear for my sister, one careful stitch at a time. He ignored every desperate call I made for help. “Super busy right now, don’t bug me unless it’s big.” Days later, Dad, a forensic pathologist, was teaching his students using a female cadaver he dissected himself. “The victim faced brutal treatment before her death, clinging fiercely to life until her last breath.” He opened up the cadaver and then sewed it back together, allowing each student to practice from sunrise to sunset. He identified every injury on the body but failed to realize, this body was me—his own daughter he resented so deeply.