SHADOWS AND SPOTLIGHT

DARELLE I was in my shared room working on my school assignments when I heard a loud noise from the living room. No one needed to tell me, I knew who it was already. I sighed in distress. “Not again.” This was nowhere close to being fair but I just had to tolerate it. Despite the fact that the distance between the living room and my room was quite reasonable, my father's loud voice blared like speakers. “Didn't I tell you to do it before I left?” he roared. He rambled on and on and made no sense, but mum had made him upset again. He is always upset and if I knew no better, I would think mom was always at fault. “I'm sorry,” I heard her say. “It hurts please,” she let out a cry. “Stop pulling my hair,” she screamed. “Then you should have listened to me.” “I won't do it again,” she pleaded. While still listening from my room, I could hear the sound of glass shattering. After a while, the noise had completely died down. I walked on tiptoes to the living room and maintained a distance. As if sensing my presence, she spoke up. “What are you doing here?” She didn't take her eyes off the floor as she sat bare on it. I went mute. Yes, she had always warned me to stay indoors every time I got back from school since the beast could return anytime. She said she could withstand being hurt, but didn't want him to hurt me. “I wanted to come and check on you,” I answered, finally finding my voice. “I'm okay now.” You can return to your room. I stood there for a moment until she finally raised her head to look at me. I took shaky steps until I walked to where she was. I was scared she would yell at me. I touched her face. "Did he hit you again?” “No,” she replied with a small chuckle. “It's the glass,” Her eyes darted to the corner of the room not far from where she was seated and I saw pieces of glass on the floor. I guess he threw it from wherever he was to her direction. I walked over to where it was and began to pick it up. She joined me too a few moments later and we continued in silence. Afterwards, she left to tidy up the house. As she stood, she looked at the wall clock and it was 10:00pm. “I don't think he will come back again,” she sighed and finally went to lock the door. “Come, let's go to bed.” I walked to her side as she stroked my shoulder length chestnut hair. We lived in a small apartment. It had a living room and two rooms but we were quite comfortable except having to deal with the beast once in a while. I had nicknamed him the beast since he behaved like one but mom must never find out that I called him that. We both laid on the medium sized wooden bed in the center of the room, mom and I shared. The beast slept in the second room whenever he was around. I snuggled close to her and she smiled. Mom was beautiful, however her wound disfigured her face a bit. The impact of the glass created a bruise on her face that had a bit of dried blood on its surface. It looked like it hurt a great deal but she was still smiling. Examining her expression and her wounds again, I asked. “Doesn't it hurt?” She let out a sigh. “You know I'm used to it.” “I can barely feel it.” I opened my mouth agape and swallowed hard as she smiled again. “I’ll be fine.” A moment of silence ensued until I finally spoke up again. “Do we have to stay here with him?” “Can't we leave?” “Aren't you tired of getting beat up everytime,” I asked with a worried looking face. I just couldn't understand how anyone would be so comfortable with that kind of treatment. “We could start our lives afresh and you could get another job.” “You can't understand,” she said to me as she turned her back to face me. That was her usual response anytime I brought the topic up. Mum always looked at me like a child and I am now sixteen years old . I might be young but I'm not dumb. “You always say that.” “Don't you ever get tired?” “Are we going to continue living like this with him?” I asked again. “We'll be fine, don't worry.” I could hear muffled sounds like she was trying to suppress her tears. I decided to drop the topic and went to sleep. I had school to prepare for the next day. ★★★★ I woke up early to prepare for school the next day and was first greeted by my mother's sleeping frame. I had gotten used to her waking up late whenever the beast decided to torture her. Great, I had to make something for myself before leaving for school then. Rubbing the sleep off my eyes, I walked to the bathroom and turned on the lights. As I brushed my teeth, I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked at the one thing I hated the most, “my reflection.” I hated to see that I took after the beast. I was his exact replica. I went down memory lane as I remembered the one time he came to pick me up from school himself. I was eight years old. I had no idea he was around and no one told me anything. I was used to going back on my own most times or having mom pick me on her way back from work. Sometimes I would go to the restaurant where she worked as a waitress, then we would leave together. Mum had told me earlier to go back home alone as she was working extra hours. I took that opportunity to stay in school for a bit and played with my friends. But as I walked out of school with some of my friends, I was welcomed by his horrendous gaze. “What took you so long?” He glared at me. “Do you know how long I've been waiting at the gate for?” “I ….. I was with my friends.” I stammered. I had no idea he was going to be here since he had never done that before. He yelled at me so much that even when my friends tried saying that it wasn't my fault, he yelled at them too and warned them to stay away from me. He told them that they were a bad influence. They were scared and scurried home. He dragged me home and I got an earful. Later that night, he resorted to drinking as he blamed mom and I for his situation. He said it was our fault he lost his job. We were the source of his bad luck. That explained why he came to pick me. That's how we knew about the loss of his job. But even at that age, I felt no empathy for him. We didn't have to face him beforehand since he was always at work. But after losing his job, he resorted to violence and took it out on mum and I. After that day, I withdrew into my shell. School felt like the place I could be myself without worrying about his torture but he took that way from me. I lost my friends since they were scared of him. And to make matters worse, he frequently visited throughout that school year. Anytime I was close to those school gates, my heart would skip a beat for fear that he might actually be outside. My friends stopped talking to me and I was finally on my own. No one wanted to be associated with the girl who has a scary father. After mistakenly biting myself, I sighed as I continued preparing for school. I felt so much pity for mum but she didn't pity herself. I was dressed in a blue plaid skirt and a rumbled white t-shirt that looked like it was hidden among piles of clothes. I decided to hide them with a black woolen sweater mom had gifted me for one of my birthdays. I walked to the kitchen and made some cereal. I was already running out of time so I grabbed my backpack and kissed mom goodbye. “Have a nice day,” she whispered with both eyes closed. “That's if there was going to be anything nice about the day,” I answered, rolling my eyes. “Don't talk like that,” she scolded. “Okay fine, I will have a nice day.” “Good,” she replied before I finally dashed for school.