The Blood on my hands

My dad cheated on my mum, and I knew. I knew about her blonde hair, his long trips away, and her violet smelling perfume that seeped into him. I think she knew too, my mum. She was just too scared to confront him. She was stupid. She could have fixed it, now he’s gone and she’s broken. Without a word, just the door slamming in the middle of the night, I knew, she knew that he wouldn’t be hearing from him again. Or so we thought.

 

I was 14 back then, I’m 17 now. Since that night we’d never seen or talked to him again. He’d left all his stuff behind, to torture us, to make it impossible for us to move on. Mum refused to get rid of it, she tip-toed around it and every time I brought up, she would be reduced to tears. She hasn’t dealt with the fact he’s gone, she thinks it’s her fault that he is gone " she’s right, but she needs to deal with that and move on. She made me go to counselling when he left. Me, like I was the one who needed it. The stupid old lady told me that it’s ok for me to be angry, ok to take sides. She said that I needed to or else I couldn’t remain human. I didn’t tell her that I had already sided with my father, that my mother was too weak to fight for her marriage and for herself. Instead I’d told her to go to hell and left, needless to say that was the end of counselling.

 

The day I flipped out completely though was when I’d walked through the door, past my dad’s raincoat and boots still hanging and lying in the hall by the door, just waiting for a rainy day, not knowing that the man with the broad shoulders would never be back. I’d pushed past these memories and stomped on through to the kitchen. Mum was there, a look of distress upon her face, tears raining down from her eyes and a sodden envelope in her hands. I’d wondered how long she’d been there. Just staring at the stupid thing, vision blurred. It was at this moment that something changed within me. Seeing her like that, my vision clouded with anger and it finally dawned on me what my father had done. He’d left her, he’d left her behind in a house that was filled of him, but never again would he be there. It was as though he’d given her a puppy and then taken the puppy outside and run over it. The memory of the puppy was there but never the actual puppy. I grabbed at the letter, prying it from her fingers, breaking her trance. I sae the smeared return address and everything just fell into place. One look at her face and my conscience escaped all responsibility. I knew what to do. I thought I’d chosen my side all those years ago, I thought I had dealt with this, but id been wrong. My thoughts clouded as I took in the fragile person in front of me. She was weak, innocent, she needed protecting.  It was his fault; all of this was his fault. He broke her, he broke me and now he would pay. I pushed past my mother and fled the room. I paused in the hallway and grabbed his coat and threw it out the door, it fell into the mud and for a second I could picture him there, lying face down in the mud, choking as it coated every part of his cruel body.

 

I look back now and I still feel no guilt of that day. He had it coming for him. I’m not guilty of the murder, the blood spilt on my hands that I could never rub off. I’m not guilty for that death, that death is what fate destined to happen, he destroyed the life of many and now he has finally repaid for that. It wasn’t fair on my mother however, to see me return at midnight after all the missing hours. To see me return with his blood on my hands, framed in the hallway by the streetlight, I think I gave her the biggest fright. Now she’s moved on, she was able to remarry; she dealt with her regret, left all the memories behind. Now I sit, in this dark and creepy place, locked up for good, over the death of my father.

Author's Note

Another story I wrote for my English class, again curious to know the reactions to this :) the prompt was again: Failure to deal appropriately with conflict only leads to greater future conflict.

Reviews

[ChervenkovaM]

This is a wonderful story. It literally sent chills down my spine. It's full of mixed emotions and is reflecting something that sadly could really happen. I like it, you portray the characters and their reactions really well and this makes the story realistic. It totally has the hint of horror in it and I think that adds well to the whole story. Very good and I would love to read more of your work :)

[MoriartyMesa]

Nice scenes of a mental reality going on, something that is a big inner conflict and than to be seen in the real.

[Ragin Cajun]

I enjoyed it. The emotion in it was very vivid to me.

[fireblossom]

Good story. Compelling content. Real depth. Shows development and growth in your character. Your character has a strong voice. You hit all the marks in developing the plot.

[Gerty]

Your story was a good read, written well. And, I believe you followed you followed your English class prompt to a tee.

[Tai Ryens]

This was dark, and it must have costed a great deal of pain, sorrow, and anger to be able to do that to her own father. You've done a great job, and posted content that I just love to read, aha. Keep it up!