A disabled girl who falls behind without a prom date is in for a surprise when her dad takes her to the prom. The reward he gets the next day in recognition of his love for his child transforms their lives.
“Molly, look! Your dad’s here!” someone from the funeral told the 17-year-old girl who was mourning over her mother Daisy’s coffin.
Danny, Molly’s dad, and her mom had divorced ten years ago. Since then, Molly had only heard terrible things about her father—like he was a ‘drunkard’ and such.
Though Molly didn’t have any bitterness towards Danny, she often missed their dad-daughter connection. But after her mom’s funeral, things were going to change for Molly…
“Hey, sweetheart!” Danny greeted his daughter and hugged her before placing a wreath on his ex-wife’s coffin.
“Sir, is that truck yours? It’s blocking half the parking. You mind moving it?” a guest asked Danny, who was a truck driver.
“Yeah, that’s ma truck. Gimme a second. I’ve just met ma daughter. Hope ya understand. Thank ya!”
Danny was delighted to meet Molly. The only link he had with her all these years was through the child support he paid for her. Daisy never allowed him to see Molly because she feared he would become a bad influence.
The funeral was over, and everybody left. Danny packed all of Molly’s stuff and told her they were going to his house.
“A parcel? Who sent it?” he wondered. A card on it read: “For Dad of the Year”
“But why, dad? I can’t leave this house. Mom and I lived here. It’s filled with our memories.”
Molly frowned because Danny wouldn’t listen. He knew he could not leave his daughter alone, particularly considering she often used a wheelchair when she didn’t need crutches. Due to an underlying condition she had developed in her left leg when she was six, Molly limped.
Two days later, Molly moved in with her dad. Though the house was compact and untidy, it comforted her and made her feel loved and included.
As days passed, Danny had difficulty doing things for Molly. Since he never saw her grow up, he did not know how to tackle most things, like braiding her hair, for example. He learned how to do it by watching online videos. But that was not all.
He vacated his bedroom so that Molly would have a nice space to sleep. He even bought a fluffy new bed so that she could rest well. Danny did everything on his end to make his daughter feel at home, but if there was something he kept a secret, it was his constant disappearance at night.
Molly had no idea where her dad had been going at night after she fell asleep. She could only guess he was loitering with his friends in the pub, just as her mother often told her.
A few days later, Molly stepped down from the school bus and entered their home, crying. She found the door was locked. There was a note tucked behind a plant. “The keys are under the pot. I will be back soon. See ya! – Dad.”
Molly scowled and recalled her mother telling her about her dad’s ‘odd’ habits in the evenings. She frowned thinking her father was out drinking at four in the afternoon.
Hours passed, but Danny never returned home. Molly cooked herself pasta, leaving some for her dad. Then she lay on her bed crying.
“If only I was normal, I wouldn’t be the odd one out. I would have found a date for the prom.”
It turned out that Molly’s teacher had informed them about their upcoming senior prom. All her classmates had found prom dates except for Molly. Nobody was interested in taking her. She figured—who would want to dance with someone with a limp?
Molly cried so loudly that Danny heard her as soon as he arrived home.
“What happened, darling? Why are you crying?”
Molly told him about the prom. “I don’t have a date. I even asked some boys if one of them would at least dance with me during prom, but they refused and laughed. I don’t want to go to the prom, daddy! I want to be alone! Goodnight!”
Molly turned her back on Danny and pretended to sleep, tears soaking her pillow.
Danny couldn’t just leave his daughter in distress. The next day, he bought Molly a beautiful prom dress. And on prom day, Molly was in for a huge tear-jerking surprise. Her dad was taking her to prom.
Senior students and their parents were flocking outside the hall when a loud screeching roar of an engine drew their attention.
Danny jumped down from the truck. He put a wheelchair on the lawn and helped Molly get out. He pushed the wheelchair on the red carpet as the gathering watched in amazement.
Danny hit the dance floor with his daughter as the music rolled. He lifted Molly and carried her around in circles, syncing with the melodious musical night. For a moment, Molly forgot that she had a disability and laughed her heart out as her dad kept swaying her in his arms.
“My dad is my real superhero. I love him more than anything else in this world. I feel blessed and proud to say I’m his daughter,” Molly cried to her friends after the dance.
Meanwhile, Danny became the show stealer. All the parents flocked around him to praise and applaud him. Danny then shared a bit about himself and his daughter, knowing little about how that evening would soon change their lives.
Danny and Molly returned home, talking about the fun they had. Then Danny put Molly to sleep in her bedroom and silently crept out of the house.
It turned out Danny had been working a second job as a caregiver at a local nursing home. Besides his part-time day gig as a truck driver, he worked overtime to save money for his daughter’s treatment. When Molly’s disability was diagnosed years ago, many told Danny and Daisy that she would never be able to walk.
But one doctor had assured them he would treat the girl and restore her ability to walk. So Danny quit partying in pubs with his friends and started working two jobs.
Daisy had misunderstood him and thought he was wasting his time at the pub. Danny tried explaining to her, but she never trusted him. Her constant doubts and heated arguments led to their split shortly after. Danny never bothered because he was only focused on saving money for Molly’s surgery and worked hard for the next several years.
It pained Danny whenever he recalled his past. Even that night, while driving to work, he could not shake his thoughts off the terrible things his ex-wife told him. He finished his shift and returned home, unprepared for the surprise that awaited him and Molly.
That morning, when he returned home from work, Danny was in for a sweet surprise when he found a package in his mailbox.
“A parcel?? Who sent it?” he wondered. A card on it read: “Dad of the Year!”
Inside, Danny found a check for $10,000 and another note:
“Dear Danny, we hope this will improve your daughter’s life. Good luck with her surgery, and we hope you spend more time with her in the evenings. Best Wishes, Your Prom Buddies!”
Danny realized the parents he’d met the previous night were behind this. He shed tears of joy and shared the good news with Molly.
“Really?! My God, daddy…This is unbelievable!” She laughed and cried on his shoulders.
With the money Danny had saved and the $10,000 check, Molly got her surgery. It was successful, and gradually, she was able to walk without crutches.
Meanwhile, Danny quit his second job to spend more time with his daughter. She earned a scholarship to study architecture in another state and was set to leave in three months.
Danny wanted to make the best use of the available time he had with Molly. He taught her to cook, dance, cycle, and even run. He just wanted his daughter to live a normal life and never look back to the days when she was using a wheelchair and crutches.
I Married My Childhood Friend – He Told Me His Family’s Secret on Our Wedding Night & It Almost Ruined My Life
After marrying my childhood sweetheart, I thought our happily ever after had finally begun. That was until he handed me a notebook filled with his mother’s secrets.
I didn’t expect to run into Michael that morning. I was just grabbing my usual coffee, walking down Main Street in our old hometown, when I spotted him. Tall, familiar, with a hint of gray in his hair, he was standing outside the coffee shop we used to go to after school.
A man with a book in a cafe | Source: Pexels
“Michael?” I called out, almost in disbelief.
He turned, and for a second, he just stared. Then, a big grin spread across his face. “Is that really you?” he said, his voice warm, just like I remembered. “I never thought I’d see you around here again!”
“Same here!” I laughed. “What are the odds?”
A couple holding hands on a date | Source: Pexels
We decided to grab coffee together, just like old times. Inside the shop, everything felt like it had back then. The old wood counters and the smell of fresh pastries. It was almost like time had rewound itself.
We chatted for hours that day, catching up on everything and nothing. We laughed over old stories, like the time we both got lost on a hike or how we’d leave each other notes in history class. The hours melted away.
A couple on a date | Source: Midjourney
Coffee turned into lunch, lunch turned into long walks, and before we knew it, we were calling each other every day. There was something so easy, so natural about being around him.
A few months later, Michael proposed. It was simple, just him and me, sitting by the lake one evening.
“I don’t want to waste any more time,” he said, his voice steady but full of emotion. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Will you marry me?”
A marriage proposal | Source: Pexels
I didn’t hesitate for a second. “Yes,” I whispered, tears filling my eyes. Two months later, we tied the knot.
After the wedding, we drove to his family home, where we’d spent many afternoons as kids. The house hadn’t changed a bit. Even the wallpaper in the hallway was the same, and the old oak tree in the yard was still there.
A small house | Source: Pexels
Later that evening, after I’d freshened up, I came back to find Michael sitting on the edge of the bed, looking… different. His usual easy smile was gone. He was holding a small, worn notebook in his hands.
“Michael?” I asked, sitting down beside him. “Is everything okay?”
A nervous man | Source: Pexels
He didn’t look at me right away. His eyes were on the notebook, fingers tracing the edge. “There’s… something I need to tell you.”
The tone of his voice sent a chill down my spine. “What is it?”
He took a deep breath, finally meeting my gaze. “This notebook is my mom’s,” he said quietly. “She kept notes… about our family. About something she thought was important.”
A worn notebook | Source: Pexels
“Okay…” I said slowly, not quite understanding.
He handed it to me, and I opened it. Pages and pages of neat, looping handwriting filled every page. “My family has this… belief,” he began. “A curse, actually. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but they believe it’s real.”
“A curse?” I asked, eyebrows raised, trying to hide my skepticism.
A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney
He nodded. “My mom says that any woman who marries into the family… is cursed with bad luck. Tragedy. Pain. It’s happened for generations, or so she says.”
I almost laughed but stopped myself when I saw the worry in his eyes. “Michael, you don’t really believe this, do you?”
A worried man | Source: Pexels
He ran a hand through his hair, looking torn. “I don’t know. I’ve always told myself it’s just an old family superstition. But… I’ve seen things, you know? My dad’s marriage to my mom wasn’t exactly smooth. My uncle — well, let’s just say things ended badly for him, too.”
I took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Look, that doesn’t mean anything. Marriages are hard for a lot of people.”
Woman holding a man’s hand | Source: Pexels
He gave a faint smile, but his eyes still looked troubled. “Maybe you’re right,” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced.
A week after the wedding, small misfortunes began to pile up. First, it was a flat tire right before we departed for our honeymoon, leaving us unable to drive anywhere.
“Just bad luck,” I told him, forcing a laugh.
A flat tire | Source: Pexels
Back home, things took a strange turn. The business I’d spent years building started losing clients. A string of bad reviews appeared online, some from people I’d never even worked with. I tried everything to fix it, but nothing seemed to help. It felt like someone had cursed my work.
Then, someone broke into our house. Nothing important or valuable was stolen, but the psychological damage was done.
A man picking a lock | Source: Freepik
Michael noticed, too. “You think this… this curse could be real?” he asked one night, his voice low.
“Of course not,” I replied quickly, though I was starting to doubt myself. “There has to be an explanation for all of this. Maybe it’s just… I don’t know… a phase.”
The turning point came just before Thanksgiving. Michael’s mother insisted we host the holiday at our home. We chatted on the phone about the menu, and she seemed in good spirits.
A woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels
After the call, I placed my phone down on the couch and picked up a book, settling in to read. But as I turned the page, I heard voices. The phone was still connected.
“Do you really think this curse nonsense is still working?” Michael’s father asked her, sounding exasperated.
Without thinking, I immediately pressed the record button.
A serious woman on her phone | Source: Pexels
She laughed. “It works every time. Look at her! Her business is already struggling, and Michael is so wrapped up in worry he can hardly think straight. And I will put an end to this when I ruin her turkey.”
“Enough, Marianne,” he replied. “You’ve already scared off enough good women from our sons.”
“If they aren’t right for my boys, I’ll do what I have to,” she said, her tone cold. “I know what’s best for them.”
Mature couple talking | Source: Pexels
My stomach turned. I ended the call, feeling numb, replaying her words in my mind. All those strange things — the flat tire, the bad reviews — they were her doing. There was no curse. It was all a lie, a twisted trick to control her sons and their wives.
That night, I sat across from Michael, clutching my phone with trembling hands. “Michael,” I began, “there’s something I need you to hear.”
A woman talking to her husband | Source: Freepik
He looked at me, his brows knitted in concern. “What’s wrong?”
I pressed play, and his mother’s voice filled the room.
Michael looked stunned, his eyes darting from the phone to me as he tried to process what he’d heard. “This… this has to be a mistake,” he stammered, the disbelief thick in his voice. “She wouldn’t… my mother would never—”
A shocked man looking at his phone | Source: Pexels
I took his hand. “Michael, I overheard the whole thing. She’s been trying to break us apart.”
Finally, he looked at me, his face set with determination. “I need to hear it from her. I need to hear the truth, from both of them.”
We arrived at his parents’ house late that night. Michael’s father opened the door, looking surprised to see us. “Michael, is everything alright?”
A surprised man | Source: Pexels
Michael pushed past him, his face pale with anger. “Where’s Mom?”
His father’s face fell, and he took a step back. “Michael, please, calm down.”
“I am calm,” he said, his voice strained. “But I need answers, Dad.”
Marianne looked taken aback, her eyes flicking to her husband, who wouldn’t meet her gaze. “What are you talking about?”
A surprised elderly woman | Source: Pexels
Michael held up my phone. “I heard you, Mom. You and Dad, talking about the curse. Talking about how you’ve been… interfering. Scaring off women, making them think they’re cursed.”
Her face went from feigned confusion to a hard, calculating expression. “Michael, I don’t know what you think you heard, but—”
“You know what you said, Marianne,” his father interrupted quietly, stepping forward. “There’s no point denying it.”
An angry elderly man | Source: Pexels
She whirled on him, her eyes flashing. “Don’t you dare!”
“Don’t I dare?” His father shook his head, looking tired and worn down. “I’ve kept my mouth shut for years. Watched you chase off every woman Michael or his brothers ever loved. Watched you lie, sabotage, play with people’s lives just because you thought you knew what was best. It’s gone on long enough.”
An elderly couple arguing | Source: Midjourney
Michael’s face crumpled as he looked from his father to his mother. “So it’s true?” he whispered. “All of it?”
Tears began streaming down her face. “I did it because I love you, Michael.”
He took a step back, shaking his head. “This isn’t love. This is control.”
A heavy silence fell over the room. His father spoke next, his voice weary. “Michael, I’ve tried to reason with her, believe me. But she’s… she believes she’s doing the right thing.”
A frustrated elderly man | Source: Pexels
Michael turned to his father, his voice full of hurt. “And you let her do this? All these years?”
His father looked down. “I was afraid of losing my family. I thought maybe one day, she’d stop. That you’d be strong enough to… break free from it.”
Michael turned silent. Taking my hand, he led me to the door. Outside, he looked up at the stars, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He glanced over at me, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry. For all of it.”
A sad man looking at the skies | Source: Pexels
I squeezed his hand. “We’re free now, Michael. That’s all that matters.”
But as we walked to the car, I felt the weight of the past, the sadness of a family broken by secrets and a mother’s misguided attempts at love. Michael’s heart would take time to heal, but we were leaving the curse and his mother behind.
Holding hands | Source: Pexels
Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: Colleen believed she knew everything about her husband until she accidentally overheard his therapy session. Michael’s startling confession revealed his darkest secrets, destroying their 12-year marriage and leaving Colleen to pick up the shattered pieces of their family…
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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