Short Story
I found my father sobbing silently in his room. He had my mother’s picture opened on his phone and this was the first time I saw him weeping for her. He hadn’t cried when she died on this day six years ago. Instead, when she closed her eyes, he stood up, took a deep breath, wiped his eyes, and stomped his way to his study. There, my would-be step-mother was waiting patiently. My father forgot everything as his eyes laid upon her.
He forgot how much he loved her now-dead wife. He also forgot that he still had a ten-year-old daughter. A daughter who needed him at that moment the most. But all he cared for then was that witch. She possessed him as the grief weakened him. And no, I am not saying that in a metaphorical sense. She actually possessed his body and turned him into a monster.
You must have heard stories about her. She is not a woman but an evil spirit who lurks around broken houses and broken men. She promises to take away the sorrows and trouble of the weak men. And instead, tricks them to take control of their mind and body and have them do her evil bidding.
But this day, this day was different. He didn’t smell of my stepmother when he came to greet me in the kitchen. He didn’t even have his belt in his hand. Instead, he kissed my forehead. I flinched at his touch out of habit. He wasn’t pleased to spot that but he didn’t say anything. He just hung his head low as he took the batter for pancakes from my hand and pointed me to sit on the table.
I looked out waiting for breakfast and saw stepmother was already out of the house. It made me smile softly. Usually, it would be me who would kick her out of the house every day after he will leave for work. Needless to say, it always warranted few slaps and belting but I was used to it by now. But at the moment, I was just glad to see him as himself again.
He promised me to watch a movie together before bed when he left for work. And I waited, I waited for long hours but he was late as usual. Once he had a respectful job and we lived in a big home. But thanks to my mother’s illness and then his obsession with my stepmother, everything washed away. Now we live in this crummy apartment as he does mean jobs to earn money.
She, my stepmother, gets the most of his earnings. For someone as greedy as her, it’s funny that she prefers my dad broke and struggling. Perhaps, it is easier for her to control and possess him like this.
He stumbled on the main door at midnight. I was already in the bed pretending to be asleep. I was too furious to talk to him. “Dinah….” A slurry voice called my name and my heart sunk in a sea of fear and anxiety. This wasn’t my father. It was her. Staggering steps approached my room and I curled up as much as I could within myself without making it too obvious.
“Dinah baby… where are you my angel…hic…”
The monster opened my room’s door and I had to put a hand on my mouth from letting my sobs escape. She was in total control of him. He faltered inside and I cursed him for not having enough money ever so we could have replaced busted locks in this shithole of an apartment.
“Arr… you… alllrrready ashleep my love?” It was his voice but obviously, it was her speaking. I stayed quiet inside the sheet and kept my eyes shut and prayed the monster won’t notice how much my body was shivering.
He stepped further close and sat down on the mattress right next to my pillow. I felt his warm rotten breath on me and it caused goosebumps all over my body. He was reeking so bad of pay. It doesn’t matter how many times I have kicked her out of our home because my father never missed to visit her in her own place every day. And it empowered her to have revenge on me through him. I prepared myself for a slap or two. That’s how he usually wakes me up for my proper belting.
“My shweet… angel” He said in a hoarse voice and a single tear escaped my tightly shut eyes. I could feel his hand hovering over me and I had nowhere to escape what so ever. But then he didn’t hit me. Instead, he stroked my hair. I was still trembling. But he didn’t pay attention. Or maybe she chose for him to not notice it. I felt his hand move down to my shoulders and then kept going lower down on my back. My eyes were wide open now. What is this?
Then my father touched me as no father would ever touch his daughter. I turned around in a jerk with utter disgust but his other hand pinned me down and shut my mouth tight. I struggled to escape but he had me in his grip pretty well. The leer on his horrible face and those scarlet eyes were telling me he had no control of himself. It was her. It was all her. I tried to scream, punch him, kick him but all was futile. The monster was too strong for me.
Today, it has been a month since that night. The last thirty days were no different from our usual miserable life. Until today, when I found him smiling and making pancakes again in the kitchen. The horror flashed in front of my eyes as I cautiously made my way to the dining table.
“Happy sixteenth birthday, angel,” He said with a glint in his eyes and I responded with a fake smile. How blissful not remembering can be?
I endured him for the rest of the morning but I also prepared myself for the evening.
Tonight, she will not win. Tonight, I will visit her. Tonight, she will suffer.
So, if you don’t want to die in a horrible fire along with her and my father, do not plan a visit to Old O’Donnells Pub in Galway.
✽✽✽
