Tears of a Child by Louise Kinnear - HTML preview

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Chapter 8

A whole month went by and I did not get an apology from my daddy.  I, however, did say that I was sorry, but I did not elaborate on my intentions for the lie.  We were getting ready to go visit my aunt. She was pleasant to a point but had a nasty turn on her.  My father has stirred a lot of nonsense between my mother and aunt, my daddy's sister. My mother always said that my daddy and his sister are like a koek-susters plat.  My mommy was at home and sent someone to call my daddy because she needed his help. He ignored her request and carried on playing cards with my aunty.  We were never allowed to play in the house so we were outside as always.  I heard my mommy calling my daddy. I told my daddy that my mommy was calling him but he told me to go play and as a natural response he chose to ignore my mommy. She eventually walked to my aunts and as she entered the back door my aunt attacked my mother. She first slapped my mommy through the face and then she pulled at my mother’s beautiful long hair. I stood there at first, totally in shock. She then pulled my mother towards the sink. She pushed her head into the sink and hit her on her back. I jumped in and she pushed me away.  My father was holding me back and that is when I decided to scream and scream and scream. They stopped and looked at me as if I was crazy. I was holding my head and all I could do was scream my lungs out.  My mommy has gone through enough torture, who is she to torture my mommy too. I cried all the way home as we walked home. “I hate her” I said angrily. I don’t want anything to do with her. She must leave me alone.  She might be my aunt, but I don’t have to sit with her nonsense. She is nothing better than my daddy.  I want to rip them apart, I want them to feel how ripped apart my heart is. I am broken inside, totally shattered, yet none of them choose to notice. Walking home, my mommy told me of what a generous man my daddy's father was. She says that if he was still alive, he would have sorted them out quick-quick. My grandmother on the other hand could not stand my mommy. She was a wicked old lady according to my mommy.  Arriving at home I went to my room and started drawing. Sketching is my happy place, my escape zone, my piece of heaven. I started drawing a face of two halves. One has resembled what I want to feel like and the other resembled my heart. The beautiful half has a perfectly shaped eyebrow, below it on her eye lid she had night eye shadow on. She has sparkly green and brown shadow that complimented her hazel green eyes. The eye sees flowers and kindness and the beauty in others. Her beautiful features were brushed with a light and soft pink blush. Her cheekbones are even more expressed when she smiles or even laugh to share her perfect personality. The burgundy lip liner expresses her strong personality. It shows that she is firm in what she believes yet in a naturally beautiful way. Words leaving her thoughts pass perfectly shaped lips dusted with a touch of gold lipstick. With long black flowing hair which confirms her confidence and her pretty self. The other side, on the other hand was the total opposite.  The eyebrow was skew because of the continuous beatings. The eye looked like a blood pool, red and infected with all the evil it has seen and still will see when my daddy returns home from his visit. The eye shadow was blue and purple… like I heartfelt. It feels like someone has beaten my heart non-stop. The slaps that I hear are also on as the eye shadow. The bridge of the nose is skew because he broke my self-esteem. I feel as if everything in my life is just going wrong, my marks are dropping and I just don’t want to continue giving my best. The lips are cracked and red and full of blood. I want to tell them what I think about their fighting. I want to tell them how he broke me. I want to tell the world that something bad has happened to me, but I have no one.  No one cares. No one knows. I have no one. I got such a fright when our bedroom door slammed. There my daddy stood, angry as hell. I stood up off my bed to show respect and to show that I need to stand up for myself. I expected him to slap me again.  Another slap will not increase the damage already done.  It will just show that he does not respect me.  “You must remember to respect your elders. You were not raised like that and I will not tolerate it!” he said firmly pointing his finger in my face.  Cut me deep, deeper than words can ever explain. He chose his sister… that is all I could think of. “Yes daddy.” I replied as he opened my bedroom door. “You should stay out of this…” he mumbled as he closed the door behind him.  How can I stay out of it?  How can I if he drags me in all the time.  He talks through me to my mother. That is their so called communication. I am disappointed in the fact that my daddy allows himself to feel smaller than grains of salt. Hurt because he chose his sister over his own flesh and blood…me! Abby walked in the bedroom thinking I was sleeping.  Looks like her eyes want to pop out of her head. “Are you ok, did daddy hit you again?” she asked concerned. “Nope, but he warned me.”  I guess if I stand up for my mommy again, he will definitely give me a beating. “Gabriella, what is wrong?  It seems as if you changed.”  “There is nothing wrong Abby, don’t worry about me.  I will be fine. God is with me so I will be fine.” I said and gave her a hug.