CONFLICTED

Chapter 6| Anger issues

Chapter 6: Anger issues

I watched my father's nose flare up at me.

"You fucking bastard..!"

Um. Did I mention I learnt cussing from him?

Well, I did. I've heard him fluently curse ever since I was six-as far as I could remember, and it stuck with me too.

My father lurched forward and threw a fist in my face and that enough sent me flying back to the ground for the third time today. I held my nose and raised my hand to my face only to see a red smear on it.

shit.

Before I got the chance to recover, he came up to me again and sent furious kicks to my gut. He relentlessly kept at the cannonball kicks so I decided not to count the number of blows I got to my stomach and just set my mind on the fact that it would stop anytime now.

My arms were guiding my face as I truly dreaded getting bruises on it and having to lie to everyone in school about it. There was a time I got a purple-black eye last year and I had worn sunglasses to class. Let's just say I'd gotten suspended for getting into a fight with a male teacher who tried to get me to take it off.

Bottom line was I preferred my scars or bruises anywhere else but my face.

"Bastard!" he growled once he stopped kicking.

This time, I was tasting my own blood in my mouth.

"Fucking cunt! You dare open your filthy mouth accusing me of killing your mother? She was the world to me, Alicia was my world. She was all I had. I was lost when she died. Everyone objected to our union. Her parents thought of me a gold digger. I didn't want her money. I didn't care about her filthy dollars. Everything I own came solely from my hard work. She offered me a lot but I wanted none of that, just her. Instead, I talked her into setting up a trust fund for you this little piece of shit.

I loved her and we loved each other so much. She loved sightseeing and I was ready to tour the fucking world with her. I was going to take both of you back to her parents just to make them see how worthy I was of her. What was my mistake in loving your mom? Just what!? They blamed me for her death and at some point I fucking blamed myself. I blamed myself for loving her, for getting her pregnant but shit, I meant no harm. I lived with guilt, yes, but never because I loved her for her money you dunce!"

He angrily wiped away the tears that struggled to tear free from his eyelids and retreated back into the house.

I spat out my bloody saliva and felt sore all over. I never witnessed my father get so emotional before and that was enough to know he was telling the truth. Now I couldn't believe myself, accusing him of killing my mom.

I managed to lift myself off of the ground amidst heavy pants and don't even get me started on the throbbing in my loin.

Limping into the house, I met granny standing by the staircase with a wet face and I was awash with guilt.

"I think I've gotten myself a broken rib." I stated in that as-a-matter-of-fact manner and then laughed, which was not a good idea because I ended up groaning in pain.

I limped up the staircase, devoting the rest of my Sunday in bed.

♣

Lunchtime in the cafeteria and everywhere was crowded and noisy. I never had a problem with the noise level until today. It was not that rowdy of course but the chattering and sickening sound of utensils made me want to throw up.

Anything and everything irritated me since I woke up. Putting up with a headache was no funny business and the sickening throbs it orchestrated in my head felt like some dinosaurs were learning how to jump in there.