Sitting here, her head using his shoulder for a pillow, it was the first comfortable moment she held in weeks. Not because she was able to do this, even though the closeness helped. Someone that left her feeling protected, without the feeling or need to constantly fight. That momentum gone and ability to rest it all. She just wanted to be able to keep that, at least for a little longer. There was no need to explain the swirl of thoughts that went through her murky head. The world that may as well have collapsed upon itself. Unspoken chains of verbal garbage that she did not want to have to associate with. To be free of it all, and to no longer have to dwell upon any of it. A new life would be led, and she wasn't prepared for it.
The world swirled at bay, further and further from her. The window being what she stared at, rather than anything else. Another sort of warmth for her, As the world might as well have gone black. The pains in her chest, the rapid beating heart, all of it slowed. Nothing about her frantic in the slightest, just soft but deep breaths. Another life here to be and take. The massive loss gone from her as she already released that emotion long before making it here. It was one thing to show weakness, it was another to do that. A most private act.
She shouldn't be here and she knew it. The choice was hers and hers alone. To go through each of these hoops and be the person that came to explain things to him. It wasn't until she was eighteen and fully prepared to do all of this. No one could hold her back now, no one tried. He was her father, and even for as much as she tried, she couldn't hate him for all that he did. She was just so tired of taking the blame. Whether it was a joking mannerism with a dash of side eye, or the simple but efficient dirty look, she knew all too well was going on in his mind. A place she wanted nothing from either.
It was her own father, who really knew him better than her? From those first few steps in her life, right on through her teenage years. There had been those moments where they weren't as close as they once were. But in the end, they always came together. She was his only child, his only daughter. Forever something special in his eye, until this all happened. He still wanted her there, to see him, but there was so much held against her. She wasn't ever sure what to make of it or him, except to hold her own hostility over the entire issue. He left her, he left her by committing crimes and then not turning himself in. Knowing full well what that left himself open to. What it left his family open to. She might not be alone now, if it weren't for him and this. He could blame her all he wanted, but she knew better.
Everywhere she went here, even though she was herded in every direction. Past electric fences, armed guards, towers with more of these guards, and hallways. To be yet another prisoner while not being the one who committed the crime. It wasn't the first time in her life she would have ever been deemed a potential issue. It wasn't as if she was sneaking through here with a nail file, preparing to help the man escape. She was his daughter, not some woman to try and miss him or make out with him. There was no girlfriend or wife anymore. Her mother ran off with that only title and she doubted ever actually looked back. Another life about things that could not be changed.
If only there were more about this that could be done now. Her clothing had been checked, down to having no metal in her bra. Her shoes checked for random weapons. What was this life? She didn't want it. Everything about it made her want to run out of this place, run back to her car and speed off. To go back to the only home she had ever known and forget all of this ever existed. Not out of fear or weakness, but because she was tired of living her life this way. He held no warrant or ability to dictate anything. He was here. She was the one living out there. All of this just felt like a giant waste of time. This wasn't her place. Why couldn't she have some normalcy? Why was that too much to ask for? If anything that should be the easiest for anyone or anything to give. A simple life that could be shared and lasting for as long as it could. Without regret or so much worry.
When she finally found her seat, the one that she was directed to, she waited for him. That temptation to get up and move was there again, but diverted by the means of being able to at least stare at the table before her. Families and friends of other inmates surrounding her. A life unlike any other, but everyone looked so happy. That was more than contentment as their smiles and laughter spilled out. The volume on everyone speaking to one another left a type of fuzzy noise left to her ears. As if a television were left with static rather than having to actually be bothered with any other channel.
Another line of men were being brought down. Names called, identification checked. It took a few minutes before she realized which man he was. Had it been so long or just felt like that? Had prison changed him so much, even with the regular jumpsuit? This life wasn't meant for either of them, but just as she recalled her previous wish. That one where her father looked at her the way the other inmates regarded their families here. That wasn't going to happen. She could see it as he closed in on her. As the world changed while he sat down. The most awkward conversation she was willing to have at any point in her life.
She did as she was expected to. Nothing more, nothing less. Keeping her head down, just not literally. She wasn't one to willingly shy away from a challenge. A rebellious streak in her didn't begin to explain that direction. Eyes were not going to be turned away just because someone was looking at her. She would stare back, more fierce than they had, if she saw fit. A reaction that was liable to get her into trouble, if the situations were reversed. With any luck he had done it himself and learned what was gained from it. Mostly because she knew full well what attributes, what quirks, were gained from both parents. And this, this was all too his own. Whether he could handle it or not, from the receiving end, that was on him and not her. But what came off as abundantly clear, was that it was all looked at to be her fault.
A person to blame, a scapegoat. His own words told the tale of it. To need her as he had needed her mother before her. But she wasn't so willing to do his bidding. She came to explain that she was done with it all. As much as she loved him, what was she supposed to do? She was still technically a kid. A kid playing grown up, just a little more effectively than the average one. Signing her own papers, paying for bills that shouldn't have been her own. With or without help, it wouldn't matter, these were things that she need to know, to learn. A life that would come and unfold for her, so that she could better understand it all. To be set free, loose out there in the world.
Not to be forgiven though, it took a toll. The kind she was tired of bothering with. If this was how he wanted to play things, maybe she could go without bothering with these visits. They cost her time and money. There was enough of a balancing act with school and work. Real life issues meeting her point blank in the face. Making decisions quickly without as much trouble. She juggled better than the average person she had seen attempt to throw their life issues upon her.
It always felt as though leaving took more time than coming in. The slow, leisurely stroll through whatever sidewalk passage the guards deemed fit. It wasn't entirely the same direction they had taken in, but there wasn't a change in exits. Just the means, not the actual. Everything became different on its own. Looking over, as she caught sight of movement in the corner of her eye, she saw men walking out in a line. Some looking over and trying to quietly get people's attention. She could only imagine why they did that. Whether they were the same people who had just been visited or not. Random ideals on how this worked. She didn't want to question it so much, to know that much. It bothered her. As if she were some sort of guardian to the dead that had done some greater wrong by losing her father. And that these men, the guards around them, were guardians of the living. Or maybe it was the barely living. People that were a variety of type in criminals and crooks.
Getting to the front, to finally move past the electric fencing and back into the building, she wanted to dance for joy. That wasn't ever going to happen, but it was a surge of that much excitement. It barreled through her. Children crying, women trying to hold it together, a few men doing much the same. And here she was, all kinds of smiling. A strong stance taken, as her shorter form made for the exit and straight for the parking lot. Feeling more free with each and every passing step. A likeness unknown to any other. Keys spinning across her fingers and she twirled them. The conversation had, not one she would forget, but not one she was going to pretend to care about now. It was over. It was long and over. This is what mattered here, that was the point.
This entire day was a scorcher. She was lucky that it was even close enough to drive out to. That there were highways and back roads that weren't in too bad of condition. Not with the way these California State Prisons were set up out in rural farm areas. Rachel felt for those that lived out here. To wonder or worry about someone breaking out or having to protect your family against who knew what. All because of the nature of a criminal or the incapability labeled by the guard that allowed that slip by. Neither being where she felt the need to be. Once she made it home, everything would be better. This is what she had to tell herself. That wasn't always what would happen, but she felt the understanding. Things would change and get better, only better. A mantra, that didn't hold its peace.
The drink that was left in the car, the bottle of water she could not take with her, barely quenching any such thirst. Worse, it was warm. Borderline hot. All from sitting out in the car for as long as she was gone. She didn't even know how much time this had taken her until this point. The water did little good, and she ended up just trying to swish out her mouth, to remove that feeling of dry mouth for a short amount of time. It didn't have to be perfect, just work in the way that was needed. The rest would just have to work itself out. She would live through it.
Once the car had been checked, once she could get away from the view of the prison and any possible police officers or guards there, she was gone. Like a bat out of hell. Gas pedal hit the floor and she was racing nothing. Just air. A fictional car on her passengers side, flying through the dirt next to the pavement. Maybe she was supposed to be the driver there too. It didn't matter, but she needed the freedom. To be as far from this place as she could. Every passing second was one that she could be at home already.
Orange groves surrounding her, on every side. Each becoming more and more of a blur as the road curved of its own volition. A place she wasn't too knowledgeable with. The directions were enough to make her sick. She needed to be home. It would have been a smarter move to have taken someone with her, but she couldn't. This had to be done on her own. It was for her own sake, her own sanity. It just didn't get her as far as she had hoped and wanted, but that was life. Let down after let down. These things were to be expected.
Dirt and gravel, rocks flying as she kept on. There was a slowing down around the curves and corners, but not nearly the speeds she should have been going. At this rate disaster would be what should happen. As if no one out there were looking out for her. But once the radio was on, she would calm herself down more. To find that place outside of her own head and to not lose herself completely to the incessant cryelty that she was feeling within her own thoughts. She was going to live.