Dyani

Part 17

My father came home a little over half past six, so I showed him the microwave meals and left for work as quick as I could. I didn’t want to be home for too long, when he would be home as well. I got to work early and hurried through my preparations and worked hard without dinner. I hadn’t told Jennifer that I hadn’t eaten yet and I didn’t intend to. She came to the back for a moment when it was calm in the restaurant. She stood beside me and put her hand on my back. I did my best not to flinch, because of the pain it caused me.

‘Are you okay honey? I hope you didn’t have more arguments with your father?’ she asked kindly.

‘No everything is fine, I just miss my cellphone a lot,’ I joked. It had broken a few weeks ago and I didn’t have the money to buy one yet.

‘The accountant had deposited everyone’s salary, didn’t you get the confirmation yet?’ she asked.

I hadn’t realised that the month had been over for a few days now, so the money should be on my account by now. I smiled at her and looked down.

‘I would have forgotten too.. you’ve had a rough few days,’ she whispered to me.

She went back to the restaurant and I kept on working.

After work I had to go home again, after a few good encounters, I was actually more afraid of my father. Some might think, why not wonder if he might have stopped and really felt sorry, but I was only afraid for more beatings. I didn’t trust my father anymore, he had changed and I hadn’t a clue why. As I arrived home, he was waiting for me, I saw that the lights were on. It was already past one and I had hoped he would have gone to sleep, but no such luck. I opened the door and he came walking over, his posture was aggressive, so as a reflex I backed away. He didn’t even say a word, he slammed me into the kitchen cupboards and hit me in the back, the same places where my bruises still hadn’t healed. He beat me for at least twenty minutes, in my face, in my stomach and on my back, even my legs got kicked at. All the while I was muttering, “Please stop.. Daddy, please..”, but it didn’t make him stop. My ears were buzzing and my head was pounding. He stopped and walked away arrogantly. I didn’t want to show him my pain and just walk past the door and up the stairs, but that was going to be a huge challenge. I got to my feet with the help of the kitchen counter. I tried to straighten my back, but that hurt to much, my ankle felt painful as well. I was too afraid to get a drink from the refrigerator, it might make too much sounds. I didn’t understand why he beat me up this time, I really couldn’t find a reason. As quietly as I could, I walked to the stairs and I pulled myself up the stairs and went to my room. I had to shower, but I believed it wouldn’t feel nice at the moment. I gently let myself lie down on my mattress and it hurt a lot. The day had been draining and the beating had exhausted me. I drifted away in a light sleep, waking at every twist and turn.

At four ‘o'clock, I couldn’t sleep anymore, every turn hurt me a lot. I had heard my father emptying his stomach and going to bed a few hours ago, I was sure he was in a deep sleep. I got out of bed and went down to the shower, even though he would not wake up soon, I tiptoed. I washed myself with a washcloth and went back to my room. Trying to be quiet the entire time. As I got back in my room, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, sleeping wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. I put my laptop on the bed and pressed the power button. It would take a few minutes for it to start, so I looked for something else to do. I felt something strange, a strong urge to get one of the boxes behind the sliding doors. I opened the sliding door and looked behind it. There was a large cardboard box, it was heavy but I got it out with quite some effort. I opened the box and started to look through the old picture books and just picking up everything. Deep within myself I could feel with every item I picked up, it was the wrong one. I didn’t know why I knew, but I just knew when to put it beside me. Suddenly I found a small book, it looked like a diary, for some reason I was very afraid to pick it up. Even though my irrational fear, I did pick it up and it felt right. This was the book I was looking for. I put it in my nightstand drawer. As quick as my hurting body would let me, I put all the photo albums and books back in the box and slid it back behind the sliding doors, which I closed. I sat down on my bed and put my laptop on my lap. I went to the website of a local phone store. The little diary was absolutely a priority in my head, but to be honest, I was so afraid to open it, that I just wanted to distract myself with looking for my new cellphone. I browsed the website and soon found a cellphone I really wanted to have. I sighed content and went to my chatting program. No one was online, but I did have some offline messages. I opened the chat screen and saw that all the messages were from Charley.

Charley: Hey Dyani, how are you doing?

Charley: Hey, you didn’t yet tell me how you are? Are you okay?

Charley: Are you alive?

Charley: Really getting worried now..

Charley: It’s been five days, please send me anything?

I noticed that all the messages had almost an entire day between them, even though his worries, he had given me a day to reply. I sent a reply.