Daddy Dearest

The blood is still warm in my mouth. The taste is so overpowering that it makes me want to vomit. The room reeks of regret; the blood splattering’s on the wall, the broken lampshade on the ground, the stained bed sheets tossed onto one side of the bed.

How is this possible?

How could I let this happen again?

I was 7 when I first saw dad hit my mother. It happened so quickly that I was unsure if what I saw was real. The five-finger imprint on mom’s face though confirmed it was true.  He hit her all the time after that, sometimes in front of my younger brother and I and sometimes in the privacy of their bedroom.  I’d hear things being thrown around as well as her muffled screams, which eventually became unbearable.  Anything would tick him off; dirty dishes in the sink when he got home from work, mom saying “thank you” to the driver a little too friendly, or simply asking what time he’d be home for dinner.

I hated him for what he did to her.

He made her weak.

Mom was constantly living in fear of when the next beating would come. I heard her crying every morning in the bathroom after he left for work.  It was unbearable. We lost her when I was 17. To be honest, it was only after her death that I found some relief. Shocking, yes, but I was happy that she was finally free of him. Dad was devastated when she died. It was almost funny. He said he couldn’t imagine life without her.

Really, dad?

Mom overdosed on YOU, not those pills.

As I went off to college I saw less and less of dad. I vowed never to let anyone make me a victim like he had made mom. He never deserved her; she was too good for him.

15 years later and look at me now. I’m lying on the floor here, post “World War III,” hands shaking, mind racing, in shock. This isn’t the first beating, it’s the 7th. The seventh time I’ve let this happen. The seventh time clothes have been ripped. The seventh time screams have filled the air. The seventh time I’ve blacked out. The seventh time I’ve relived my mother’s life; a life I despised and dreaded. No, no more. This can’t continue. It has to end.

I hear police sirens coming from outside the window. Shanel has just barged into the room. Two police officers are running in right behind her. Shanel runs over towards me yelling, “Danielle! Danielle! Oh my god! Malcolm, what have you done to my sister?” One of the police officers pulls out a pair of handcuffs and starts walking angrily towards me.

I look to my right and my eyes are met with the horror of Danielle’s bloody, lifeless body lying next to me. Oh my god! What have I done? What have I done to my wife! Danielle! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you! I love you! Shanel is sobbing and cradling Danielle’s head in her hands. My arms are behind my back while the cuffs are tightly closing in on my wrists. I’m dizzy and my tears are clouding my vision.

How is this possible?

How could I let this happen again?

As the cops walk me out to the squad car I realize that my worst fears have finally come to pass. I’m left with nothing but the ugly truth; I’m just like him, I’m just like my daddy.

 



24 thoughts on “Daddy Dearest” by adaezediana (@AdaezeDiana)

  1. Hextophar (@Hextophar)

    Short, but great. An eye opener into the tough world of the female folks. They’re to be loved, not to be boxed. Well done.

    1. Thank you, Hextophar:) I do my best to explore the truth of human relationships as best as I can.

  2. Like father, like son. Nice one.

    1. Thank you, Uzy:) I believe sometimes the things we resent & resist the most are the things that show up in our lives.

      1. So true, the things we resent and resist are the most that happen to us. It seems to be the case that running away from tragedy sometimes bring it right in front of our doorstep, inviting you to check out my poem at http://www.naijastories.com/2014/06/y-junction/ and comment, good or bad. A bunch of thanks and welcome to NS.

        1. Thank you for the welcome @innoalifa! I am heading to your poem now:)

          1. @AdaezeDiana, you’re always always welcome dear!!!!!!1

  3. Quite well-written. I enjoyed my reading write but I became sad with the reality of men man-handling women.
    women, yes women are our mothers
    giving life to all boys and fathers
    they deserve to be loved
    and adored

    Nice job @adaezediana!

    1. Thank you @innoalifa! Life has its sweetness and sadness; both necessary to explore and learn from.

      1. @AdaezeDiana, you’re always always welcome…hoping to read more of you here…………………..

        1. @innoalifa:)))
          I will definitely be writing more here. I love that I’ve found this writing community.

          1. That’s good news ooo, let’s make a toast to that lolz. You’re welcome to NS and I’m one of the many that will read and comment on your writings, good or bad :) :)

  4. Nalongo (@Nalongo)

    Sad.

    1. You can say that again @Nalongo

  5. Hi sad, shocking, loved the twist at the end, initially thot writer was the wife being battered. Didn’t know it was the husband doing the battering.
    refreshing to read something nice and diff.

    1. Thank you @funpen! I always wonder about the motivations behind the actions we take and I wanted to explore domestic violence from a different perspective.

  6. This was good…tho sad but it is happening everyday..women should run from monsters like the father..he hit you once he will hit you again…seek help..dont endure such evil even in the name of your kids…when you die you wont be able to take cRe of them from the grave..

    1. Thanks @schatzilein! Domestic abuse is sadly an issue in our societies. If only more people felt they could be vulnerable to admit they are in situations like this/need help and if only more people are willing to be safe havens of love and encouragement for those going through such a situation.

  7. “I vowed never to let anyone make me a victim like he had made mom”

    This line doesn’t work
    Otherwise, great story

    If you are a young man and your father beats your mom, walk in love towards him
    If you refuse to walk in love towards him, you will become just like him.
    Cheers

    1. Thank you @tessadoghor:) I’m happy you mentioned that line because I went back and forth with that one. I left it in because my intent was to go beyond the literal meaning of being a physical victim and apply it to being a victim of the type of fear and lack of confidence that can be created by domestic abuse or any other form of abuse – mental, emotional, etc, which affects males and females. I see how I might have missed the mark. I will work on making my future pieces more cohesive. Please keep commenting!

  8. s'am (@samenyuch)

    greattttt!!!

    1. Gracias mucho @samenyuch!!!:)

  9. Very nice @AdaezeDiana I liked the twist to the story.
    Its a sad but eye-opening story. It brings to light the effect domestic violence can have on anyone either directly or indirectly.
    Please continue the story if you can…maybe you could make it a series?
    I would love to read more on it.

    1. Thank you, Deborah! I hadn’t considered making this one a series but you might have sparked something in me. I’ll get back to you on that one.

      p.s. Jesus is my hope too nne! It is only Him I am fully dependent on:)

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