My Teacher

Chapter 9

The mall was very quiet when we got there. Only one or two elderly couples and workers walking around...afterall, it was 6:30 in the morning.

Abhay and I walked inside next to each other, the weather was rather cold so I wore jeans and a white shirt, I also opened my hair and wore a thin layer of mascara and eyeliner. I don't really dress up often but I felt like being different for once.

"I'm gonna do my shopping now, you can do yours." He turned to me.

"Alright I'll see you later." And we went our separate ways.

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After about an hour or so I had bought all my necessities. Including a few pieces of lacy underwear which were on sale, I was hesitant at first but then realised that I might as well just get it...it was on sale afterall.

And besides, I do the washing at home so Abhay doesn't see my undergarments

I decided to look for Abhay and go home but then something caught my eye.

A stunning dress, with intricate patterns was hung beautifully from a hanger.

I couldn't contain myself and headed towards the store. I snatched the dress and went straight to the changing room to try it on.

The fabric was smooth against my fingertips. I quickly put it on.

When I looked at the mirror I was shocked. The length stopped just above my knee and it clung to my curves nicely, the intricate patterns made it look elegant but the shape of the dress made it look more casual.

I took it off and checked the price, it was very reasonable and I instantly bought it.

After it was purchased I resumed my search for Abhay.

After ten minutes with no success I started making my way towards his car. Maybe he would be there, I thought. I should have asked him for his number so that I wouldn't get lost.

The parking lot was vacant so I decided to go back inside, but then someone stepped in front of me and blocked my way.

"Hey get out of the w-" I started but instantly stopped.

"Well if it isn't my so called daughter." My father said in disgust.

I ignored his comment. "Please let me go past." I tried to walk towards the mall but he stopped me.

"Why don't we just talk for a bit, hey?" He said, smiling mockingly.

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Oh come on, I have lots to say to you. For instance," he took a gulp from his bottle of whiskey, "why do you have so many bags? Are you stealing money? I would expect that from a person like you. You're probably homeless I'm sure, nobody would want to help a worthless thing like you." He seethed. Tears already stained my cheeks. "You're just like your mother. She was a piece of sh-"

"Stop it! Just stop it! Don't you even dare speak about my mother!" I shouted, "You have no right to."

His nostrils flared. "You dare raise your voice against me you bitch!" He raised his hand and I closed my eyes and flinched. But the slap never came.

I looked up and saw Abhay, standing in front of me and gripping my father's hand.

"Don't even try to hurt her, physically or emotionally. You'll regret it." He warned.

"Who the hell are you?" He fumed.

"I should be asking you that. You say you're her father but you don't treat her like a daughter, so who are you to her? But back to the question, it's none of your concern." Abhay said, catching me and my father off guard.

Then my father laughed. "You're actually supporting this bitch? She'll be a burden in your life my friend."

"You talk as if you know her, but I'm sure it's just the alcohol talking. I could smell it in your breath when I was inside the mall." He fought back.

My father looked stunned, probably because nobody really stood up to him before.

Abhay took my hand in his. "We'll be leaving now and oh yeah, if you ever need any money, please feel free to get a job rather than steal your own daughter's hostel fees to buy your drinks." He said and started walking away, "Oh and, if ever I find you taunting her again, our next conversation will be when you're behind bars." He said and pulled me towards his car.

We quickly got in and sped out of the parking lot.

I was shocked.

Nobody ever dared to rebel against my father...yet Abhay did it with so much confidence. And not only had he prevented myself from being slapped, but he managed to possibly knock some sense into my father. I saw his face when we left him, he was just as shocked as I was, but he also had another emotion on his aging face...

Guilt.

Maybe I was just imagining but I knew what I saw.

My mother used to tell me that my father was an iconic man. People respected him everywhere he went and he would always give only love and affection to her.

She said they loved the movie Pretty Woman. My mother said she loved Richard Gear and my father loved Julia Roberts, and they kept it as their inside joke. He even used to sing to her as she walked by...

Pretty Woman walking down the street
Pretty woman
I'd kind of like to meet Pretty Woman

But then one day he changed.

He barged through the door, as drunk as hell, shouting profanities at my mother just a few years after their marriage.

She had started her own business from home and was making a bit of money, and he didn't like the attention she was receiving, and because her business was so successful, she became popular easily, which made my father accuse her of cheating on him.

His insecurities lead to fights, and fights lead to him drinking more and he wasn't the same man she married.

But my mother told me that there was still good in him. And I used to believe her at one stage...not anymore.

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