5 years ago I(45) was driving my daughter(17) home from a party. I had had a few drinks but thought I was fine. I had struggled with alcholism my whole life due to my father. I was driving and things were slightly blurry. I swerved a little and my rearview mirror reflected someones headlight into my eyes. I lost control and swerved hard as my daughter screamed in the back.
The truck behind us slambed into our tiny little toyota and crumpled the back…and my daughter. Now I’m 4 years sober after months of drowning myself with whiskey mixed with tears. Recent events have made me want to pick it back up though. after what happened that fateful night and i managed to drag myself to A.A. I figured to at least soothe my guilt and pay tribute to my daughter I would start helping people out.
I started volunteering at shelters and I even became a little league coach. Those kids became my kids. Sometimes looking at my accomplishments would make me genuinely happy, then I would be dragged down by the memory of my daughter.
One late night I was lying in bed thinking of my daughter when I hear a voice. It was so sweet and soft and faint that I almost didn’t hear it. When I did though I recognised it as the voice of my daughter! I thought I had gone crazy but the voice reassured me it was her. She told me she was proud of what I was doing and to keep going. I wept like a baby and told her I was selfish because I only did it to make myself feel better.
She told me that she knew I hadn’t meant to kill her. She told me she loved me. Then she left. When I woke up I thought it was a dream but that proved to be untrue because she visited again. At first the visits were scarce but they started happening more frequently. It got to a point where every other night she would speak to me, always with a sweet angelic tone. Then one night things changed. All these nights of talking to her left me sleep-deprived and I accidently fell asleep before she came.
I awoke to hear her shreiking at me. She accused me of not loving her. She said it was all my fault she died. She told me I should go back to being a drunkard because I wouldn’t amount to anything. Then she left. I cried myself to sleep that night.
It has only gotten worse. she would visit and spit viscious words at me. She would tell me I was lazy, that I didn’t do enough, and I was nothing. Anytime I spit back at her she would start crying in her angelic voice and I would end up apologizing. I dread her visits now. I see them as my precursor to death. A hint at what my hell will be. I don’t think this is my daughter I think it is a demon sent to torture me.