Anyone who didn't know how badly my dad treated me and my mum would give him 'Man of The Year' award because they could see how hard he worked to care for us. He was a civil servant in Ministry of Works and Housing but he also ran a big supermarket stating that he needed more than just government salary to take care of his family and just incase there was a recession and some workers got sacked. In as much as he took good care of us which made my mum's friends envy her, there was a side to him he never let any other person see.
My dad beat my mum almost everyday over very little disagreements. It had been that way since I was a child and I wondered why mum still put up with him after all these years. It made me vow never to get married if that was all marriage had to offer.
My dad was not only a bad husband, he was a terrible father too. He always yelled at me whenever I made a mistake even as little as spilling water on the floor. He'd insult and call me names and say that he knew kids who were younger and smarter than I was. I'd cry and wish my dad would just vanish out of our lives but I didn't see it happening anytime soon. I never saw myself as a success because my dad never made me feel like one.
Quiet and very tolerant, my mum took all my dad's beating and insults without trying to defend herself or reporting to the police but I wasn't wired like her, and one day, a few weeks after my 16th birthday, I met my dad so he could sign the papers for my school trip and he said. "Dumb people don't go on trips". I was so mad because I knew I wasn't dumb. I had come top of my class three times in a row, and I knew for sure that a dumb person couldn't achieve that much, so in my rage, I yelled, "At least I know I took after you!" As soon as those words came out of my mouth, I knew my life was technically over because my dad turned to look at me with so much fury and the next thing I heard was a loud bang on my head and everything blacked out. That was three months ago but I still have a little scar on my temple to show for it. Mum said he had hit me with his tea mug.
* * * *
It's dad's birthday today and everywhere is surprisingly quiet. It felt strange not to wake up to his shouts and complaints. I got out of bed and followed the aroma of frying turkey into the kitchen and I knew mum was preparing dad's favourite - fried rice and turkey. I rolled my eyes thinking 'he doesn't even deserve the effort'.
"Good morning mum, how was your night?" I asked eyeing the turkey she was frying.
"It was okay. How about we go see a movie later today?"
"Awesome. Can I have one of these mum?" I said stretching my hand to the plate and picking a piece of fried turkey before she could answer. In the process, I hit the frying pan and it tipped spilling the oil in it on the floor.
"I'm so sorry mum. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine just clean up the mess you've made"
I left the kitchen and went to the backyard to get the mop and bucket. From where I was, I could hear dad call out mum's name complaining about the shirt she hadn't starched well. I'd never met a more ungrateful person in my life. His voice started to get louder and I knew he was walking to the kitchen. I wanted to avoid his bad temper so I stayed outside but it was mum's scream that had me rushing back into the kitchen. At first I thought it was the usual beating but I was wrong because the first thing I saw as I entered the kitchen was dad on the exact spot where the oil had spilled. It occurred to me that he must have slipped and fell. He wasn't moving and mum was by his side sobbing and shaking him.
"Call the hospital Abby" She said in between sobs. I stood there staring at both of them not out of shock but because I didn't really want to call the hospital. What if after all these years my prayers were finally answered and my dad would finally be out of our lives? But could I live with the guilt for the rest of my life knowing I could have helped?
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hmmm. nice writeup

thank u

Conti nue

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