The Perfect Sin (Camren)

Ch 8-Brownies

I remember the night I broke my father's heart. 

April 23rd, it was around 9 pm. At the time I was 14 years old, I remember because I was excited about my quinceañera being so close. We were driving back home from dinner with some church folk and I don't recall what it was about that moment that finally made me spit it out. 

It had been so long of living with it, that after a while it almost became normal but in the back of my head I knew it wasn't. And the more time passed the more I knew I couldn't keep it to myself any longer. The burden was becoming too much to bare and when serious thoughts of ending my life began to plague my thoughts I knew I needed help. 

"Dad" I remember saying, mom was in the passenger seat hearing what was happening but not really listening. She was calmly appreciating the beauty of the night sky when I began. 

In the moment, I didn't know how to phrase it since even though it had been seven years since it had started. After all, sex was never talked about in my household. I knew only what I heard in movies and sometimes school. Truthfully, at the time I didn't know what he was doing I simply knew I didn't like it. I simply knew it hurt. I simply knew it made me feel gross. Ugly. 

"Yeah?" I recall him saying

There was an overwhelming serenity in the moments before my confession, almost like time stood still. As if the younger version of me expected the words to liberate me from the burden I was carrying. 

There was no build up

No "I need to tell you something" no "We need to talk" I simply felt a surge of bravery and said it the only way I knew how. 

"Uncle Angel touched me last night" 

It was dark, so I didn't see his initial reaction. What I remember most prominently was my mom's panicked eyes as the stars in the sky no longer held her attention and she immediately looked at my father. The moment was followed by a lot of tears from everyone in the car but I wasn't crying because of what happened to me. I was crying because I made them cry. 

They were sad, and it was my fault. 

We ended up having to pull over because my dad could no longer drive in his emotional state. On the side of the road, he cried with his forehead leaning against the steering wheel as my mom softly rubbed his back in an attempt to soothe him even though she was crying just as hard. 

I felt guilty. 

I should have kept my mouth shut. 

What stood out the most about that night were two things. The first being watching my father cry, since I've only seen this on two occasions in my life which were that night and the night my grandmother died. The second was what he was mumbling in between sobs over and over again. 

"Not again, God" I remember him begging"Not again,"

Not a word was spoken after his breakdown. 

We simply drove home in silence and things continued as usual, other than the fact that a lock was placed on my door. 

I knew what they were trying to do but it was useless. My uncle was in between jobs at the time and he was living with us like he was for the majority of my childhood. 

The new lock was useless, I had locked my room to prevent him entering my room in the past so I knew it wouldn't work. 

See he had this tendency to only come at night. So I would lock the door, place my desk chair on the lock and at one point I even began to slide my nightstand in front of the door so he wouldn't open it.