Cold & Dark

Blindness is just another name for vulnerability. I suppose at first I benefited from the darkness that engulfed my vision, but soon enough my father took advantage of my defenselessness. Though, that wouldn’t be a huge surprise to most people, considering most families had a parent with commitment issues. It was a month since my mother had disappeared and ever since then Becky, my father’s love affair, and I have taken on my father’s brutality. Becky- she’s a lovely lady, and as far as I’ve heard, she’s beautiful with smooth, moon-kissed skin and owns a generous natural scent. On good days, that’s all that father would ever care to brag about.

She’s a wonderful woman; the worst of liars couldn’t deny that. But as years and months drifted by, I realized that the woman who gives birth to you is closer to the target in your heart than anyone else in the world. I could never think of anyone taking my biological mother’s spot. And besides, I didn’t understand what Becky saw in my father. I mean, he is a business man with his high leveled standards and riches but, knowing that he is hysteric, she should be packing her bags by now. She doesn’t have the guts though, nor is she brave enough to call the cops on him. I would do it myself if I didn’t miss the numbers every time I tried.

Despite my complaints and rejection towards her, I must admit, Becky takes care of me. She always enjoys saying that I was destined to be her child and she truly does treat me as one. She brings me anything I ask for. She dolls me up whenever I mention there was a special occasion at school. If I knew she wasn’t human- with two arms, two legs, a body and a pretty face- I would have imagine her as a dog. Soft, tender and chatty. She is just . . . lovely, but she can never restore what my real mother gave me.

It was mid October. I remember the day much more vividly than the first time I tried chocolate. I was at home that evening, unaccompanied in my house. I waited for Becky who mentioned a girl’s night out earlier that week. Considering I was nearly a responsible adult, meaning I was still in my mid-teens, she had no hesitation in leaving alone. I knew how to maneuver myself around independently anyways. I listened to the television run on and on as I rested on the settee.

“Yet again, the local department has encountered another dead cow found hanging from the ceiling of a farm cabin.” Ryan Delarosa explained. This wasn’t the usual news you’d hear from our little town. Usually there would be robbery involved but no one would get hurt. This newsflash was peculiar. In fact the body lacked of a head, Delarosa clarified. “And now for traffic updates,”

Although it was quite an unsettling news, alertness did not surge upon me. I had convinced myself the scene had happened a little further away from the outskirts of town, so I didn’t own Becky’s urge to lock to the doors abruptly or anything of that sort. And to put it lightly, a murdered cow seemed to be the only compelling news I’d heard the entire month, aside from the first case.

A shiver spiraled down my neck at the unexpected sounds of pots and pans clashing to the ground. ‘Oh, it must be that rotten cat again, isn’t it?’ With my brows knitted into a frown, I reached for my walking stick, glancing in the general direction of the ear-splitting noise. “Julius. I swear to you, if I hear you trotting around the house again, I’ll tell old lady Marvus. Where the hell are you, anyways?” I called out into the room, feeling strangely out of place. It was not that I was frightened. In fact, being blind helped overcome those sort of situations. You come to be passive of most of the things you feel and hear. Though, what made me feel concerned was the sensation of something larger than the Sphynx.

Leisurely towing myself to my feet, I attempted to sharpen my hearing to the best of my ability. I could hear the front closet opening in the front lobby. The house was not too large, so it wasn’t the hardest task to pick up noises. “Becky? Are you home?” I inquired quietly, unable to hear any another sound for a few more moments.

The squelching of damp soles could be heard. “Father?”

A beat. “Where’s Becky?”

“She told me that she was going out with her friends. Her schoolmates from London dropped by this week and so they decided to have a reunion of some sort.”

“Mmm,” A long dreadful span of silence remained between the two of us. He paced from the closet to the end of the lobby where he discarded his furred boats at the end of the hallway. Father was a gentle walker, unlike Becky and I. You could barely ever catch his footsteps, especially not when he was sneaking around, practicing being silent. “She never told me about that.” His voice was raspy, and low, much to my disliking. He spoke so slowly, his constants drowned in slurs, and in addition to that, it sounded as though he was gargling.

‘No . . . No, this just can’t be. He hasn’t done it in so long...’

“Father...”

“Did she say when she was coming home?”

He was approaching. Closer.

“N- No, she didn’t.” Now the stench was prominent. It was an aroma that I had gotten far too familiar with since I was a child. I swallowed the lump growing in my throat. Warmth radiated off of his meaty hand. “I’m sick.”

An abrupt answer, merely two words but it was enough to stop his advances. I heaved a relieved sigh as I felt distance grow between the man and myself. Strangely enough, it was the silence that left me baffled. At least, in chaos, you were able to control your settings and mute the sounds. But with silence, your mind was louder, speaking volumes as it filled you with troublesome thoughts and paranoia. And a soundless environment between the devil and yourself meant trouble was on its way.

Departing from me, I could almost immediately imagine the man scowling. “Pathetic.” He muttered beneath his breath, pacing down the corridor. I clenched onto the end of my walking stick. The tool had been more of a coping mechanism to bottle my negative energy than anything else over the past few years. “You know something, Aurora?” I perched in posture when I heard his voice which sounded far too sober for someone who was evidently intoxicated. “Becky has been very unfaithful, as of late. Her phone is pilled up with texts that haven’t been from women or from me-”

“That doesn’t mean she’s unfaithful. They’re probably just messages from friends—”

“Do not interrupt me.”

Startled by the harshness of his voice and the abrupt pivot towards me, I muted myself. He hadn’t behaved this way in a while, not since his office hours had been extended and work became a burden. He was too occupied to think about any of this. “What I mean to tell you is. . . you should be careful about who you spend time with. You don’t want to turn out like Becky.”

“As long as I don’t turn like you, I think I’m fine,” I muttered beneath my breath. I believed I was inaudible. But it turns out that I wasn’t.

Father hastily turned on his heels, facing me. I didn’t need eyesight to know that his gaze was burning a hole into me. “What did you say?

“Nothing.”

“I’m pretty damn sure you said something. Tell me.”

“I said nothing.” The broad-shouldered man rerouted his gaze, turning away from me once more. I could tell from the rustling of the loose-fitted dress pant he wore. “Pig-”

To my shock and horror, my under-the-breath comment was caught delicately by his blurred senses. His befuddled state had left him in an outrageous break-through, knowing that his ego was slaughtered. An un-calculated, sloppy but fierce blow struck my cheek which left me scrambling for balance. With my breath trembling, I held tightly onto the counter of what I presumed was the dining table. “You. . . you’re not supposed to hit me-”

“Says fucking who?” The man growled beneath his breath, approaching me once again.

The courage I had mustered for years had peered through the surface of my skin. “Becky. The law—” Another vicious blow took my coping tool straight out of my hand. The walking stick flew, skidding across the tiled floors as it landed on the ground. “Ow, Papa! No, don’t do this! You’re better than this! You stopped h-”

Father cupped the back of my neck, less romantically than I was willing to describe. With the limb as a joystick, the man controlled my movements. Specifically, he slammed my cheek into the table into a position in which I was unable to move any longer. “So, Aurora. What was that you said again? I didn’t quite catch it the last time.”

I was uncertain whether it was his murderous tone, the vulnerable state in which I was put after a very long time, or whether it was the cool glass that stunk my face, but something had encouraged my eyes to water and my voice to crack. “Pa. . . I’m sorry- I won’t-”

“Say it. Now.”

“I. . .”

“Go on. We don’t have all day.”

I gulped, “Pig.”

He chuckled foully in my ear. It was unlike the sweet laughter that would come from any human being. He let go of my body. Being forced in the position I had been before, my knees buckled involuntarily beneath me. Focused on mopping away the tears that salted my cheeks and my heart which throbbed uncontrollably in my chest, I was unable to recognize the fact the man had departed. Dark pixel silhouettes showed well enough where my walking stick was. I reached out for it and shuddered as I got to my feet. My father was gone; I knew it from the soundlessness that reverberated through the vacant house. I could have sworn he was going to rip his belt off and . . . I prayed to the Lord he didn’t. The large clock above the couch ticked in perfect rhythm to my settled heart and the security system beeped repeatedly. I was alone again, this time not only hurt mentally but physically.

It hadn’t been the first time that my night had resolved in a like manner. In fact, there had been evenings that were so sickening that the next day I would be pale as the dead. As of late, father had been less brutal. I had even unconsciously marked the calendar in my mind that he hadn’t touched anyone rudely for nearly two and a half weeks. Being someone who had been surviving his mood fluctuation and has the tad bit of hope flickering inside, I was hoping the time duration elaborated at a possible change in character. Obviously, I expected too much.

That was ultimately why the barely harmful night had broken my spirits immensely. Father was so generous and kind to all of us- it seemed like he would turn to his foul ways again. Seeing him break my spirits so much, it fueled me with determination. ‘Who knew? Maybe if I stayed a day longer he’ll get worse and be the way he was... before.’ I thought to myself. For the first time in my life, I felt my chest harden with bravery and my mind flood with maturity. For years I’d come across the idea but never had I been alone to be forced down by the guilt that forms from Becky’s presence. So the decision stood crystal clear- I was going to leave this life behind for good.

I’d always promised myself I’d find a place that restored my lost childhood- another family; another home is all I ever wanted.

Our coco clock chirped once, that’s when I brushed off the rest of the tears that ran off my chin and gently closed the door behind myself. The breeze was bitter but I felt the warmness of the patio light flicker on and off. The bustling of the moths and the soft rustle of the trees is what led me to the forest. I remember the numerous nights my old companion, Milo, and I had spent playing hide and seek in the grounds while my parents set up supper on the deck. The lanky boy used to always be the one hiding, which I personally didn’t mind considering I loved finding things whether purposely or not. I hadn’t encountered the boy in years though. After my mother’s passing, he stopped visiting as well.

I do miss that sort of innocent company.

But with where I settled, it was a difficult aspect to regain. I lived on a farmhouse, hectares of crunchy waist length grass till the everlasting forest. I remember getting lost in it once; my mother had to throw a search party assuming I was captivated by this strange man everyone talks about. Yes, I don’t quite remember his name but people describe him to be slim and inhumanly tall.

‘Active imaginations and lies- that’s only what humans are worth for,’ I thought to myself.

“They’ll find me. Someone will find me. I know it.” I sighed beneath my breath. “Besides, everyone deserves a second chance.”

“Oh, god, where is she? Aurora!” I heard a voice call miles back. I wasn’t quite sure if it was my father or Becky, but I didn’t want to get caught by neither one of them. The voice faded as I sprinted through the thick grass, their voice gradually drowned by the whispering winds. Even though I was sightless, I’d grown up to count the distance between recognizable places by footsteps. Nine inch size steps between my closet and my lamp and exactly three hundred and sixty seven steps from the stairs on my deck to the very end of the forest. Unfortunately, from the pace I ran in, I probably miscounted my steps over thirty times.

I tripped over a fungus enclosed branch as I reached the frame of the woods. Once I tumbled to the ground, I was dressed in twigs and cold dirt- not to mention a coat of frozen rain. I trembled to my feet realizing that I didn’t have the help of my walking stick anymore. I staggered aimlessly through the twisted forest corpse.

And so there I was, feebly yet deliberately getting lost in the woods and in the trail of my missing thoughts.