Dyani

Part 6

I'm sorry I'm sending in such short chapters, but I need it to fit! I'll try to make the next one longer ;)

‘Dyani? Can you cook for all of us?’ Dad yelled from downstairs.

Thijn was watching television for the past twenty minutes, clutching my plush dog.

‘Yes, sure,’ I yelled back.

I ran my fingers through Thijns hair, which made him look up annoyed. I went down the stairs, there wasn’t anything in the kitchen, so I had to whip something up with what I could find. Peter and Anna were still in the living room, they would eat with us. I didn’t see any meat in the refrigerator, so I took several kinds of vegetables and two bottles of spaghetti sauce. I started with boiling some water for the spaghetti and then I started cutting all the vegetables. After a few minutes Anna joined me, so we cut everything in silence. Soon everything was finished and we could eat. My dad went upstairs to get Thijn, who had fallen asleep on my bed. When they came down, he still had red puffy eyes, he must have cried some more. I put the two big pots on the table and got five plates and some forks and spoons. Anna was the first to scoop up the food, giving the first plate to Thijn. With utter reluctance he pushed away his plate and crossed his arms.

‘Eat something, your m.. sister has worked hard on this food,’ dad said.

You could feel the tension around the table, everyone heard his mishap. Dad never cooked dinner for us, mom and me were in charge of dinner. Anna finished scooping up dinner for all of us and we ate in silence, except for Thijn, he played around with his food and only ate about four bites. After dinner, which was served a little late, Thijn had to shower and get to bed. Peter and Anna decided it was time to go home, so when Thijn was tucked in by dad, we said our goodbyes to them.

I hadn’t had a curfew for two years, but the tension I felt in the living room almost made me go to bed early.

‘Is there.. Are you.. Can I do anything for you?’ I asked him.

I sincerely wanted to help, I wanted to make his night easy, but there was nothing I could do.

‘Could you just bring me a beer?’ he asked me.

I got him a beer from the fridge and said my goodnight. It didn’t matter how much I wanted to help my father, he had to accept this on his own, just like I would have to accept this for myself.

As I was watching some television in my bedroom when I heard my father coming up the stairs. It had been a few hours since I went up to my room, but I couldn’t sleep. I had chatted with some of my friends, only sharing the news with my best friend Charley. He was my best friend, but we had never met before. Whenever I was down I could always count on him to be there for me. I closed my computer a few minutes ago and was just watching some television. Unlike my expectation, dad didn’t stop on the second floor, he came all the way up to my room.

‘It.. it’s all your.. fault!’ he grunted as he strutted in.

Immediately I sat up straight in my bed, the pungent smell of liquor came to me.

‘Have you.. What do you mean? What is my fault?’ I asked.

‘You are the reason, because of you.. your mom..’

Realisation seemed to hit him, his eyes got watery and he staggered off the stairs to his own bedroom.

Tears filled my eyes, but I tried to keep them back. I opened my laptop again and put it on my lap on the bed. Soon it had started and I looked up Charley again in my chat list. As I found him and clicked his name, the tears took over. Blinded by a teary haze, I typed “Hi” and then I let my tears flow. I made sure not to make too much noise, I didn’t want to wake my father after his little outburst. Suddenly small sounds came from my laptop, Charley was offering me a video chat. I only accepted the microphone, not the camera. As I hit accept, I stopped sobbing. I hadn’t wanted him to know I was crying.

‘What’s wrong Dyani?’ I heard his husky voice say through my speakers.

‘I’m.. My dad.. he just came in. He.. he told me it’s my fault, that mom died,’ I stuttered.

‘It isn’t.. I mean, how could it be? You were on your way to work right?’ he asked me, his voice husky but gentle.

‘I don’t know, I think.. maybe my father had been drinking, he smelled like alcohol.’

‘He might have just searched for a release and drank a little bit too much. Drunk people can stammer stuff that they don’t mean. Don’t worry, it’ll be a little better tomorrow,’ he said.

‘I think I should really go to bed, I don’t want to wake my father with our talking.’

‘I understand, we’ll talk tomorrow,’ he promised and closed the conversation.

After I turned off my computer, I laid down on the bed again and watched some muted television until I fell asleep.