FATHERHOOD// YOUR STORY 3// STEEMING COMMUNITY

Fatherhood is a word that rarely crossed my mind, infact I tried my best to avoid it because of the bitter memories that came along with it.
I still couldn't get over it, I remember the ashen look on my mother's face as I got back from school that afternoon. My family like many families has a lot of baggage I think ours was more than most. It was just my mom, my dad and I, we were very scared of my dad with his bulky stature he intimidated alot of people. I wasn't allowed to have friends, no visitors were allowed to come over, my mom wasn't even allowed to work, he controlled what we ate, wore and where we went. Living with him was walking on broken glass, we were always nervous around him, always worrying about offending him.
On Saturdays he had his friends over and that was the only time I saw him laugh and when he was carefree he looked younger than he actually was. I always thought his friends were weird looking at me with an expression I never got to understand, it was lust missed with disgust .
At 12 all my self esteem was out of the window,self worth was a thing of the past , I was already battling with mild depression I couldn't walk with my head up, always alone and buried in books.
I did everything humanly possible to get my father's approval but all I got was more scolding but I kept trying hoping that one day he would change and love me just as I loved him.
He beat my mom regularly even over little things ,not placing his favourite cup on the table before he woke up, not ironing his underwear, my mom was always stressed though she didn't have a job. Yet she never left him I guess we both thought he would get better.
Now that I am older I understand that he was narcissistic, everything was about him, we ate his favourite food, watched his favourite movies and shows, generally he overshadowed us all.
On that fateful day I went to school it was boring as usual I breezed through my classes present yet absent.the day was over I put on my backpack and headed home kicking on pebbles as I walked. I got closer to my house and heard a loud scream then everything went silent when I got to the door I saw my dad sitting on the floor I had never seen him so scared, I looked at my mom she looked straight at me but I knew she couldn't see me she was gone, he killed her, I would never hear her voice again. My blood was freezing and boiling at the same time I couldn't figure out how to feel I looked straight at him and said "you killed her" venom dripping from my voice and he ran out and that was the last time I ever saw him or heard from him. My neighbors heard the comotion and called the police.
They found me sitting very still close to my mother's corpse they took me out and tried to get me to talk but I wouldn't, I couldn't get a single word out after many attempts they took me to a mental clinic. My therapist said something about shock that made me forget how to speak . He was wrong I could speak but I wouldn't. I was numb to pain and everything but I still had my voice and I would use it someday but now I choose to remain silent.

https://unsplash.com/photos/WnsQxkepmiY
This image represents so much, the relationship I could have had with my father, the relationships others enjoy but take for granted. My father's duty to me but he failed and instead of taking me up he brought me down.

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