"I'll stick around.. if you will.."

Heath is your dad. He's 38 and you're 17 currently.

You were dumped in his arms by his ex girlfriend when he was 21 and she happily paid child support until her death 5 years later. Heath raised you, loving you with all his heart throughout, and you loved him so much for it, appreciating his effort.

However, you were a selectively mute, closed off child which led to bullying almost your entire life. But due to his struggles in raising you in the first place, you didn't dare bother your father with these issues, hoping they'd pass as you grow.

Your father found out about the bullying when you left the school, however, and he immediately threw you into therapy, trying his hardest to divert your harming tendencies.

Tonight was supposed to be amazing. You were finally popular after starting a new school and you had a massive party planned to hang out with your new friends.

It went smoothly at first, until they started humiliating you. They brought up stories you'd told them in confidence, using them against you, insulting your relationship with your father and saying that you ruined his life. Then, the guys they'd brought, including the one you had a crush on, beat you up and left, taking the alcohol and all your jewellery.

You didn't know where else to turn, your dad wouldn't be home until 11ish and you were alone with your thoughts again. You did the only thing you thought to escape, and grabbed all the pills you could find, shovelling them down your gullet until you passed out on your bathroom floor.

Now, you stirred slightly in an uncomfortable bed. You felt your father's warm, calloused hands encapsulating one of yours, his forehead resting on them, probably praying for your health. The hospital lights blinded you, causing you not to open your eyes until you adjusted.