My Version of events- short stories based on songs

Mean- Taylor Swift

I entered my house on my tip toes praying to God that he didn’t hear me. 

“Charlie, so you are back from school. Come here.”  He called from the living room.

I didn’t want to go near him but I knew the consequences of noncompliance. 

“Yes. Dad” I said entering the room.

“You got your results back?” 

“Um...No. Not today.” I lied. I had got a C and that meant violence.

“Don’t lie to me, Charlie. I know when you are lying.” He said raising his voice.

“I’m –I’m sorry.” I said with fear. I knew what followed next.

“You lying filthy child!” he yelled. He then threw some more of his worst swear words at me and I tried to ignore them. He had used all of the ‘compliments’ available in the English language on me in the past years. His words stung like knives and swords. They hurt me more than the actual weapons he used against me. 

“Are you even listening to me?” He said and slapped me. I was knocked off my feet at this unexpected blow and fell on the ground, feeling like I was nothing.  Thinking that he was done, I decided to get out.

“Where do you think you are going? Show me your grades.” He called out. His shrieked voice felt like nails on a chalkboard.  He grabbed my bag and fished out my paper.

"Another C." And with that, he started another round of violence. I couldn’t fight him even if I wanted to. I was weaker compared to him, that’s why he picked on me. He could take me down with just one single blow.

Often I dreamt about my future, a fatherless future. My plans were simple. Someday I’ll get far away from this town and go live in some big old city (preferably NYC) and be a Broadway star. Someday when I’ve grown up, when I’m big enough to fight him. He won’t change; he’ll always be this mean. And that’s all he’ll ever be- mean. Why was he so mean?

“Charlie, get ready. We have to go to Fred’s wedding.” He called me on a Saturday morning. I sighed in relief. Wedding meant public and public meant no beating . When we were with company or in public, he portrayed the affectionate loving father. As per public opinion, I was the troubled kid.  It was so easy for him to lie, so easy to switch from abusive to affectionate. 

 “Charlie is a good kid; he just has some bad company.” I heard him saying to one of his friends. Bad company, I didn’t have any company at all. He made sure that I don’t make friends. He always tried to humiliate me in public with his walk by lies. Today was no different.

“Why were you eating like a hungry caterpillar? People would think I don’t feed you. You need to watch your weight. And you could have worn something good.” He said as we were driving back to the house. Pointing out my flaws was his second favourite past time after beating me. Not that I needed him to, I already knew my flaws. My confidence level was already six feet underground. 

When we reached the house, I walked towards my room with my head down, trying to block him out. I knew I could never impress him, however hard I tried. I missed my mom. When she was alive, she made me feel good. I just wanted to feel okay again.

My mom had told me that my grandpa used to beat my dad, that’s why he became this cold-hearted, mean person. I don’t think it gives me an excuse to beat my children. I will not go down that road. I will end the cycle of abuse. Maybe he didn’t know what I knew. There is always another option. I’ll leave this town and start a good life and have a happy family.

“There is a post for you.” He called. My heart stopped. There was only one post that I was expecting, one single post that could change my life. I had applied for admission in “Academy for singing and dance”. I ran towards him and took the envelope. It was from the academy. If I got selected, I could fulfil my dream of becoming a Broadway star. My dad always said I couldn’t sing. I would have accepted his opinion if my teacher had not encouraged me to apply. She had said that I had the best voice, she had ever heard. The selection committee at the Academy looked impressed with me but I couldn’t say for sure.  I opened the envelope with shaking hands.

“I got in. I got in.” I jumped up and down with happiness, not caring that he was staring at me with a fierce look. 

“Don’t ruin this chance as you have ruined everything else.” He said grumpily, “I’m sure you will.”

As I looked at him, I could picture him years later, sitting in a bar. He would be talking over a football game with that same big loud opinion that nobody listens to. He’ll be washed up and ranting about the same old bitter things. He would be drunk and grumbling on about how I can’t sing, even though I would have become a star. After I leave him, he’ll be alone in his pathetic life and he’ll have nothing but his lies and meanness. I’ll never come back to visit him. I know he can't change. He’ll never be anything but mean.