Fighting for Life | ✓

18 | Watch me succeed, father

"AJ, I hear you have been staying out more than usual. Why?" My father asked at the dinner table.

I swallowed before speaking. "I have a biology group project for this semester. My grade will depend on it for this semester. It's important since all we are going to do in biology is this project. It's big, important and a little hard. So, it takes most of my time. I don't want to stay back in the material,"

"I don't care what this project is, AJ, I don't want you spending more time out of the house. Take your mother or aunty with you if you want to get out. Three hours out of the house every day is not how a lady acts," He said sternly

"But I'm working! It's not like I'm out enjoying and partying," I clarified

"Watch your tone, AJ, this is no way to talk to your father," my mother scolded

But I didn't even raise my voice. I just objected to him.

Why?

Why can't they understand me for once in my life?

I'm tired of this. I'm tired of pretending between my own family. Why am I making all the effort when they can't care any less? I don't want their money or anything from them except love and understanding. Why can they give me everything but that?

"I didn't raise my voice, mother. And father, I will go out because I want to get good grades," I said, finally deciding to say something for me.

By now, everyone on the table is fuming at me, including my cousin, Patrick. I thought at least he understood me. But seems like I was wrong.

"What good will it do to you by getting good grades? It's not like they will be helping in the future. It's a luxury that we've let you study till this far. I don't care if you fail or pass, you are not going out more than one hour, and that's final," He slammed his hand on the table, got up and walked away from the table.

Tears were flowing down on my cheeks by now.

"Why?" I shouted and went after him. I was having none of that again now. "Because you will marry me off to some rich kid? And I won't have to work? Or because I'm a girl and they aren't supposed to work? Huh, father, tell me. What is it?"

"Both," He said simply, keeping his calm posture, but I could see his eyes were filled with fury.

No one dared to speak in between. Not my uncle, not my aunty, and definitely not my mother. Patrick was busy shoving food in his trap.

"What if I want to work? What if I don't want to marry to whomever you are going to make me marry, huh? What if I want to do something on my own? Have you ever thought about what I want?" I said in a low voice

"I've provided you everything, AJ. You have a thousand dollars deposited in your bank account every month. You have your privacy, and no one snoops on your things, your phone, and your room. You asked for a car, you have it. You asked for a tablet, laptop, phone, you have it. We gave you everything. Yet, you are asking us if I've ever thought about what you want?" He said with a pained expression and something else on his face I couldn't pinpoint.

"I don't care about those things! I don't want your money," I shouted "You can throw all of those things in to trash and I couldn't care less. Take the car, I don't care. I can live without those things. But what I can't do anymore is pretending, father. I want your love, your time. I want you to understand me. When was the last time you said you loved me?"

He was silent, looking at me with a pained expression.

"You can't remember, right? Because you never said," I whispered

"AJ, that is not the point. You know that I do," He said. He still can't say the word.

"You do? Because I don't think so, father. If you did love me, you wouldn't say you don't care about my grades. You would want me to be independent. You would want me to do something in my life. To achieve something. But, no, I bet you have some guy in mind already for me. I am seventeen, for god's sake, father! I am seventeen!" I shouted

This time, he slapped me. I had concealed the bruise with concealer, and now he slapped me on the same cheek. And damn, it did hurt.

But it hurt more in my heart.

I saw regret and hurt flash in his eyes. It was like it hurt him more to slap me. But what's the point of that when he had smacked me already?

"The girls in our family don't work. Nor do they drive. Yet I bought you a car. They are supposed to manage the domestic quests. Leave the manly work for the men, AJ. I am letting it go this one time, but I won't tolerate this tone of voice, Arianna June Fletcher. As your punishment, you are not getting out of the house at all. Give your phone, laptop, tablet and car keys to your mother, right now," He said coldly

I can't believe this.

"You know how much I like out there, father! How can you do this to me? I'll give to mother the electronics and the car keys, but please let me get out! Even if it's for thirty minutes, I don't care. I just need to get out, father, please!" I pleaded

"No. You brought this upon yourself. Oh, and you will take online classes. No going out for school either," He glanced at my mother. "Lock her in her room for a week. Let her come to her senses on her own,"

I felt a pang in my chest. It was burning so hard. I even felt my swear rolling down from my temple.

"I swear, I will run away, father," I said, controlling the urge to scream.

I start counting to twenty. Then backward. Counting helps sometimes when I need to calm down or have a reality check. Because in dreams, you can't count.

Meanwhile, my father said something and I couldn't hear what. Because I was concentrating on my breathing.

I felt another slap on my face. Tears no longer flowing down. One more time, my father's hand connected to my cheek.

"Watch me succeed, father. Watch me rise right in front of your eyes." I was looking dead in his eyes.

"These seventeen years, I've pretended to be the person I wasn't. I'm tired of it now. You say girls can't do business? Can't work? Can't be mechanics? Can't do any manly chores? Watch me do it, father. Watch me complete my studies, and be successful at what I do,"

"Watch me," I spat before I bolted to upstairs, not leaving any room for further discussion. I locked my door, rearranged my room to calm my nerves. And somehow, it did help a little.

I snuggled into blankets with tears on my cheeks, thinking about my father and family. How no one spoke up when he was hitting me.

How no one understood me. How no one stood up for me.

I cried to sleep, feeling guilty about the way I spoke to my father.

* * *

i get it, but those who don't respect your wishes, they deserve your lashing out on them