When I finally got home, my body was trembling with a mix of fear and adrenaline.
It was night, and I knew Estelle was probably sulking after I left her at the venue.
I felt guilty for abandoning her, but I couldn’t shake the dread that had settled in my stomach.
As I stepped inside, I tried to keep quiet, hoping to slip past without alerting anyone.
I sighed in relief when I scanned the living room and saw no signs of my father.
Maybe he was still out drinking with his friends, or maybe he was just staying away for a while.
But just as I thought I was in the clear, I felt a sudden tug on my hair, yanking me backward.
Before I could react, I was pushed to the ground. I looked up, and there he was—my dad, a twisted smile on his face.
“Well, well,” he laughed, his voice dripping with mockery. “Look who’s back home! Are you happy to see me?”
My heart raced, and panic surged through me. “What are you doing here?” I managed to stammer, trying to scramble to my feet.
“Did you think you could just run off and forget about me?” he sneered, stepping closer. “I’m back now, and it looks like we have some unfinished business.”
I swallowed hard, feeling a cold sweat break out on my forehead. “You shouldn’t be here,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “You just got out of jail!”
He laughed again, a cruel sound that sent shivers down my spine. “And what are you going to do about it? You think you can just ignore me? I’m your father, and you’re going to show me some respect.”
I stood there, my heart pounding in my chest, the room closing in around me. Dad's face twisted with anger, his voice booming as he confronted me.
“How dare you disobey my wishes!” he shouted, his hands reaching out to grab my hair, yanking me closer. Pain shot through my scalp, but I couldn’t find the words to fight back.
“You’ve turned your back on everything I wanted for you! You’ve become a sissy!” His words stung more than the slap that followed, a sharp crack that echoed in the silence.
I stumbled back, shock mixing with hurt.
“I didn’t even like sports!” I protested, desperation creeping into my voice. “I never wanted to—”
Another slap cut me off, more forceful this time. My cheek burned, and I could feel tears welling up, but I blinked them away. I just wanted him to understand, to see me for who I really was.
But all I saw in his eyes was disappointment and rage.
I could barely process what was happening. Dad's hand flew at me again, another slap that sent me reeling.
Each hit felt like a thunderclap, drowning out my thoughts. I tried to shield myself, but it only made him angrier.
“Why can’t you just be the son I wanted you fucking idiot?” he shouted, his voice rising with each blow. I could feel the pain blooming across my face, my heart racing in fear.
In the corner of the room stood my mom, her hands clenched tight. I glanced at her, my eyes pleading for help, a silent cry for her to intervene.
But when I saw her face, my stomach dropped. She shook her head slowly, her expression filled with fear and helplessness.
“Please, stop!” I managed to cry out, my voice cracking. But Dad wasn’t listening. He was lost in his own fury, a force I couldn’t contend with.
I felt so small, so powerless, trapped in a storm I couldn’t escape.
With every punch, every slap, I realized that my words meant nothing to him. All I wanted was to be seen, to be understood.
I stood frozen as Dad pulled out the knife, the blade glinting menacingly in the dim light. My heart raced, and I could barely breathe.
“If you don’t quit music and disobey me again,” he growled, his voice low and chilling, “I won’t hesitate to end this.”
I nodded, fear coursing through me. The threat hung heavy in the air, suffocating any defiance I might have had. I just wanted to escape, to run from this nightmare.
As I edged toward the door, my pulse quickened. But then he shifted, pointing the dagger at me, his eyes wild.
“No leaving! You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
I flinched at his tone, the reality of my situation crashing down on me. I nodded again, the fight draining from my body.
When he and Mom finally retreated to their bedroom, I stood alone in the living room, the burden of the family on my shoulders.
I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, tears streaming down my face.
But beneath the fear, something else was stirring—anger.
How could this be my life?
How could he take everything from me?
As I sank onto the couch, I vowed that this wouldn’t be the end. I was more than his anger, more than his threats. I would find a way to be free.
And I would be happy if I kill him myself.
I will never quit music like he asked.
