The Day Dad Died
"Mom, I'm home!"
I used to call out to her every time I came back from school.
Mom rushes toward me. Her hair is disheveled, and when I look closer, my eyes freeze on her face.
Her lip is split.
"Mom… what happened?"
"Shhh." She presses a finger against my lips.
I stare at her, confused and scared.
"M-Mom…"
"Stay quiet, Zoey," she whispers.
Her eyes keep darting toward the stairs, like something horrible might come down at any second.
"Your dad is drunk… and he's angry today."
I swallow hard. Goosebumps spread across my arms.
"You need to go to your room and sleep, okay?"
I nod slowly.
"I know it's your birthday, baby," she says softly, brushing my hair back. "But we'll celebrate it next year… without being afraid of your dad. Okay?"
Tears fill my eyes, but I nod again.
"My good girl."
She smiles, but the smile can't hide the pain. The bruises on her arms and face are telling a different story.
"Now go upstairs and sleep," she says gently. "I'll make your dad sleep too… so his anger goes away."
I nod and quietly walk up the stairs toward my room. I look back at her, she gives me a reassuring smile... as she whispers "go"...
The next morning, when I woke up, Mom was is standing in the living room crying.
Paramedics are upstairs in their bedroom. The house fills with a strange smell like some medicine in air ....
Her eyes are red and swollen.
I run to her and hug her tightly. "Mom… what happened?"
She looks down at me and pulls me into a tighter hug.
"Oh, Zoey…" Her voice breaks.
"Your dad… your dad is no more."
The words hang in the air.
My eyes widen. For a few minutes, I just stand there in shock, staring toward the stairs, then back at Mom.
She nods slowly, confirming what I just heard.
I remember crying for two days.
Even though Dad never really loved me… he always looked at me like I was some kind of curse. It's been two years since Dad died, but it still feels like I never grew up after my seventeenth birthday.
Those memories still haunt me.
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A loud knock on my door pulls me out of the horrible flashback.
The knocking comes again, louder this time almost desperate.
I push myself up from the couch. I guess I've been sitting here for hours. The TV is still on, and the house is wrapped in darkness.
I open the door.
"Hello, dear niece."
I gulp.
"You're here…"
Uncle Jackson walks inside without waiting for an invitation. He moves past me like he owns the place. His usual cologne fillsthe house with something evil as him ....
I close the door slowly, but I don't lock it.
He sits on the couch, looking around the room.
"You always thought you had a dark soul." he says while looking, around the dark living room
I stare at him, confused and definitely not happy to see him.
He pauses, then smiles.
"Just like your dad."
My body stiffens. "Why are you here?"
"Tsk, tsk." He laughs softly. "That's funny. Your mother asked me the same question when I visited her."
"Mom…?"
"Yeah, yeah. I know you two never liked me, baby girl. But you know what?"
He pauses, glancing around the room before leaning closer. While sitting down on the couch ....
"I like you both a lot." I smile almost like mocking him "I know that"
I walk closer and stand in front of him, my face blank.
He leans back comfortably, stretching his arms across the couch.
"You live alone now?"
I nod.
"Well… maybe you invited your boyfriend over sometimes."
My angry expression stops him.
He chuckles. "Relax, I'm joking. Who would even like a goth girl anyway?"
I look away, fidgeting with my hands.
"Why are you here?" I ask again, my voice rougher this time.
"Okay, okay." He raises his hands slightly. "I just wanted to talk."
I look at him coldly. "About what?"
"You could move in with me, you know. It's not safe to live alone. I'm worried about my little niece."
I give him a sarcastic smile.
"I know how much you worry about me."
His expression goes blank instantly, like I just hit a nerve.
He crosses his legs and leans forward.
"You have nothing left. That little job of yours won't pay the bills, little girl."
"I'll manage. Don't worry about me." My voice cold now
He laughs mockingly.
"And what about this house?"
"It belongs to me and my family."
He nods slowly.
"Yeah… but I want it for myself."
I freeze.
I always knew he would never let this house go easily. He's wanted it ever since Dad was alive. Dad used to complain about how badly Jackson wanted this place.
And my age… legally, it gives him certain advantages.
"No."
His shaking leg suddenly stops.
"I don't want to hear that," he says quietly.
"You can think all you want, but—"
He stands up and walks closer to me.
I steps back.
"I want a yes."
He pokes my forehead lightly.
"A yes, dear niece."
Then he walks past me and slams the door behind him.
I flinch at the sound.
I stand there, my eyes burning with anger and my jaw tight.
After a moment, I turn and lock the door.
His words still echo in my mind, burning inside me with something I can't quite name.
It feels like he knows a lot… but he never talks about it. I know he's always been carrying something. Something Dad saw and never liked.
Mom never told me anything. Maybe she didn't want to scare me. Maybe she didn't want me worrying like always.
But now she's gone too.
"Mom… you left me in hell," I whisper.
I sink onto the couch, covering my face as tears fall to the floor.
"You left me alone… you proved…"
My voice cracks.
"You proved Dad was always right about me."
My body shakes with silent sobs in the dark living room.
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