Why Didn't You Love Me For Me?

Prologue

The silk fabric fell against my skin; the feeling of excitement running through me. I looked up at the mirror in front of me, I looked just like mom; a smile crept upon my face. I was beautiful just like her. I twirled around letting the dress flow as if the autumn breeze were in the room. I grabbed mom's favorite lipstick, the one she wears on holidays, and put it on my lips. I blew a kiss to my imaginary prince charming stand through that mirror. Mom told me stories of Dad being her prince charming who saved her from her evil stepmother. I wish I knew father like that. but to me father was my evil parent. Always making me feel as if something was wrong with me. Something that made him look at me with disgrace. I could hear his voice now, "Boys don't cry when they get hurt. They get back up. Boys do not place dress up. Boys do not ask for prince charming. They are the prince." I will never be what father wants me to be.

But that is okay; I have this time when no one is home where I could be whatever makes me happy. And right now, that is dancing with my prince. I set the volume to the max limit and let my feet take over. And as I swayed around my parent's room all I could think about was to have this moment last forever. To have summer last forever; so that I do not have to go back to school... Where new bullies await me.

I was so into my thoughts that I did not hear the front door open. I did not hear the boots of my fathers walking towards his room. I did not hear him open the door. I did not even hear him rush to me. No, none of these warnings made it through the fantasy world that I twirled myself into. But it did all come to an end and I was brought back to reality when my father grabbed me by my hair and started to drag me out of the room.

"This is the LAST straw! I am not having a SISSY for a son!" With each statement my father's voice grew louder and louder. He pulled me through the whole house to our backyard. We went down the steps; me stumbling with every step. He sat me on the dirt ground and told me not to move. He then ran back inside. I knew better not to move and upset him any further.

I messed up big time. I knew better and should have token extra caution. I have never seen my father this upset with me before. And I knew mom would not be home for at least a couple of more hours. She is not here to save me from my father's wrath this time. There was a crashing sound coming from within the house, and it did not stop. I could only imagine what my father was doing in there. The pain from my father pulling my hair was starting to get worse. I was trying to hold in my tears; for I knew that if my father saw them it would only make the matters worse. I can hear him now, "Are you crying... I'll give you something really to cry about". No, I could not add on anything worse than what he is probably doing now.

It was a few minutes that whatever my father was doing in the house was over. I looked up from the ground when I heard my father coming down the steps. A cold fear rushed through my body, "WHAT are you doing with those?!" I cried. As my father grew closer with every step; all I could focus on was the pair of scissors in his hands. "Please Daddy!! I am sorry... I will stop please!"

But my please and cries for him to stop fell on deaf ears. They only seemed to make him move faster. I tried to back away from him, but he got to me before I can stand up. Again, my father grabbed me by my hair and then I felt it. The first cut to my hair. I let the tears flow from my eyes. My father new how precious my hair was to me; he tried so many times throughout the years to get it cut but my mother would stop him. Once father was done with my hair he moved on to the dress.

At the end of his anger I sat on the ground in my underwear with puffy red eyes. Tear streaks stain the cheeks of my face. My father had finally broken me, and I knew he had no sympathy. He strode back into the house locking the door and leaving me there.

I must have sat there for hours. I had heard my brothers come home from their friends, but I knew they would not come to my aid. They knew better to defy my father's actions. He would let me inside once he knew I learnt my lesson. The sun was starting to set when I heard yelling coming from inside the house. I could not make out what was being said but I knew when the front door was slammed closed. Not long after that the backyard door was pushed open; in fear of my father's rage I coward into myself. In hopes to protect me from his next punishment. But it was not my father's hands that I felt on me. No... it was my mother's, and I knew I was safe.

My mother cradled me into her arms, and the tears fell again. My mother lifted me up from the ground and took me inside. We settled in on the couch and my mother rocked me back and forth. Telling me that everything would be okay and that she loves me. It must have token hours before I had finally calmed down. "Where's dad?"

My mother looked at me and cradled my face. "You do not worry about your father. What he did was wrong, and I am so sorry darling that I wasn't there for you." I could see the anger in my mother's eyes. She hugged me one more time and we both stood up and headed down the hall. She could see the hurt and exhaustion in my eyes. She knew the faster this day was the over the better we can move forward.

Unfortunately for me my father was not done punishing me yet. The door to my room was gone and when I looked inside everything was torn apart. Everything that my father was deemed girly was either torn from the walls, smashed, or shredded. My clothes were laying all over the floor; everything was just a mess... "I HATE him... I HATE HIM!!" My mother's hands wrapped around me once again.

"Your Father just doesn't understand... He doesn't know how special you are. And one day he will see it and regret his actions... Come sleep with me tonight bunny. And tomorrow we will fix everything, Okay?"

I looked at my mother and nodded my head. I had no more strength in me to find the words to reply. That night I laid in my mother's arms and cried myself to sleep. My father did not return that night; he didn't even return the next day. It wasn't till the following day that my family was woken up to policemen knocking on our door. We all stood behind my mother when they gave my mom the news of my father's passing in an accident. She fell to the ground and cried. No matter how much my father was wrong to me he was still the love of her life. And she now must live with the knowledge that the last words she said to him where not of "I Love You" but of anger... Those where the last words my father heard of my mother. And the last words I heard of his was that "I am not having a sissy for a son" ....