Always and Forever (67 page)

I’m just about to make my way downstairs again when I hear
a noise. It was so quiet I wonder if I imagined it. It sounded like the noise
came from my bedroom. I glance at my bedroom door along the hallway but notice
the door is closed. I try to remember if I left it that way before I went out,
did I close it before I left? God knows why I choose to investigate but that’s
exactly what I decide to do. My heart is pounding, my legs are unsteady and my
hands are trembling whilst I try to convince myself that there’s no reason to
be frightened. It’s probably my overactive imagination playing tricks on me.

My bedroom door creaks as I open it. I’ve always been
thankful for the noise is makes when you open it, over the years its been my
warning, the noise I associate with my father’s presence when he comes to say
goodnight to me. My bedroom is in complete darkness and it takes a few seconds
for my eyes to adapt to my new surroundings. My bedroom curtains are open and
it’s a full moon, this allows some light to filter in through the darkness
outside. The open curtains draw my attention to my bed underneath the window
and that’s when I notice the silhouette sitting there. I know it’s him straight
away; no one else’s presence would cause me to feel so much terror.

“Bethany, I was wondering when you were going to show up.”
He says calmly, folding his hands in his lap.

I’m absolutely numb with fear. I can’t move. I can’t speak;
all I can do is gape at him in horror. This can’t be happening, this must be a
dream. I’m trapped in a horrible, ghastly nightmare and I’ll wake up any
second.

“What… what are you doing here, Dad?” I stutter, trembling
over my words. I wanted to sound confident and calm but my stupid voice failed
me, I sounded weak and pathetic.

“I’m here because I want to talk to you. We do need to
talk, don’t we?” He chuckles, revealing his true sadistic nature. He knows how
petrified I am of him.

“What about?” I ask, my voice quivering.

My body has surrendered all of its strength, I feel like I
might collapse at any moment. My legs could easily give way beneath me,
revealing to him how fragile and weak I really am when he’s near.

 He doesn’t answer me; the silence between us is
frightening me even more. I’d rather him be yelling at me than this. I turn my
head slightly towards the door behind me, wondering if I’ll be able to reach
the front door before him if I decide to make a run for it.

The moonlight illuminates his face; I notice his cold blue
eyes are penetrating me with their hatred. He looks merciless and cruel, like
he’s being waiting his entire life to have this conversation with me. I’ve
always known that he’s a monster but I’ve never been caught and alone with him
like this before. The abhorrence I feel for him cannot be described, neither
can my unease or distress at being in such close proximity to him.

“Oh, we have lots to talk about, Bethany. Although, I think
we’ll start with him. Let’s talk about Jake.”

The second he mentions his name my heart stops.

This is it.

This is the end.

He knows

He knows everything…

I don’t know what to do. I don’t have the courage to try
and run but I’m too frightened to stay. I’m alone in the house with him and the
knowledge of this is far too unsettling for me, I don’t think I’m capable of
moving even if I tried.

I’m suddenly hit with the realisation that he might have
seriously hurt my mum. There’s no sign of her and the house was in complete
darkness when I returned home. God, if he’s hurt her because of me I’ll never
forgive myself, never. I just can’t bring myself to think about the
repercussions of him hurting her. She’s the only innocent one out of the three
of us and she doesn’t deserve any of this. She’s never deserved his
punishments.

“Where’s mum?” I
ask, needing to know that she’s
safe. I’ll suffer the consequences from him if I have to but none of this is
her fault. I have to know that that she’s safe, I need to know he hasn’t hurt
her. I won’t be able to live with myself if anything he’s done anything to her.

“You’re really asking me about her? I’ve just told you that
I know about him, Bethany. I know everything. It’s really interesting that the
first thing you’ve asked me about is your mum. That’s very intriguing.”

 He’s taunting me, I know it. I can barely see him in
the dark, all I can see is the outline of him sitting there on my bed. I clench
my fists in anxious preparation of what is to come, willing myself not to break
down and not to crumble. I have to stay strong; I refuse to let him defeat me.
 He would only take pleasure in witnessing my despair and dissolution.

“Where is she?” I demand, repeating my question. I don’t
want to take part in any of his games. I just need to know that my mum is ok.
That’s all I care about.

“Well, she had to leave.”

“Why? Where did she go?”

“So many questions… it’s a good job we won’t be disturbed.
Daughter, we have a lot to discuss but I suppose you need a few things clearing
up first.” He sighs in exasperation, as though this whole conversation is
extremely tiresome for him.

“Just tell me where she is.” I persist, wishing I could
exert some control over my speech.

I long for it to sound composed and relaxed. I really want
to give off the impression that I have no reason to be afraid, that I have no
reason to fear him. My father is a bully and what he feeds off is fear, he
hungers for it and knows I’ll always surrender it to him without too much
effort.

 “She was a little upset about your gran and she
left.” He remains self-assured and composed; his self-assurance only
intensifies my overwhelming distress.

“Why would she be upset about gran?” I ask with caution, my
heart rate increases with every second that goes by.

“Because she died this morning.” He informs me.

I inhale sharply as my legs finally give way beneath me. I
fall to the ground in a crumpled heap, I feel like I’ve been hit by a
sledgehammer. I gasp for air when I realise I’m not getting enough oxygen, my
lungs frantically searching and pleading for me to breathe. Every instinct in
my body is clawing at my insides to burst into tears. I want to sob
uncontrollably, I want to weep and cry and scream. The only thing that’s
stopping me is the fact that I don’t want to give him the perverse satisfaction
of being able to witness my destruction. Not when all of this could be a lie. I
consider that for a second, he’s certainly twisted enough to make up something
like this just to hurt me, just to observe my reaction. Gran could easily be
alive and well, this could all be an elaborate and twisted game. Several
minutes pass by and I’m still unable to speak. It’s as though the life has been
sucked out of me. I feel cold, lifeless and numb.

“You’re lying.” I croak weakly. My throat feels restricted
and narrow; my chest feels tight and constricted. I really start to worry that
I soon won’t be able to get enough air and I sink my fingernails into my palms
as I try to fight the escalation of my panic.

“I’m afraid not. The woman your gran has been staying with
telephoned your gran’s next door neighbour with the news. She didn’t have our
phone number so had to get in touch with Mary instead. I arrived home just a
short while ago to find your mother hysterical, she left in a hurry so she
could find out more from Mary and so she could telephone your gran’s friend and
find out what happened. It’s safe to say she was a little bit upset.” His voice
drips with sarcasm and cruelty, he loves every single second of this.

I finally start to contemplate the severity of what he’s
saying, could it really be true? Is gran really dead? It can’t be true, it just
can’t be. I’ve always thought of her as invincible, someone who will live
forever. She can’t have died, it’s not possible. As the news starts to sink in,
a part of me knows I might have to face the reality of the situation if he’s
telling me the truth. Mum is gone, she’s not here and I can’t think of another
reason that would cause her to leave the house like this, especially when she
knew I’d return home to my father.

I also have to consider the possibility that he might be
lying to me. He’s more than capable of such a thing. All of this could be his
fucked up way of hurting me. He’s always resented the close relationship I have
with gran and he’s always been envious of the time I’ve wanted to spend with
her.

The uncontrollable tears continue to fall down my face;
they have no intention of stopping anytime soon. I glance up at the ceiling,
praying for strength, hope and courage. I need to fight him, I need to stop
being so afraid, I need to protect myself from him and get out of here. My
hands grasp the wall behind me as I try to pull myself up. I don’t know if I
can outrun him, I don’t know if I’ll even be able to make it out of the front
door but I know I’ve got to try. I don’t bother glancing in his direction, I
bolt towards my bedroom door before I have chance to think about my escape for
another second.

I underestimated him. I don’t even manage to take a single
step before he’s on me, jerking me backwards as he grabs a hold of my hair. My
whole body is yanked in the direction he’s tugging me until I land flat on my
back on the floor. I’m badly winded and gasping for air, the excruciating pain
of my fall causes pain to shoot up my spine. I frantically scramble on my hands
and knees towards the bedroom door but before I manage to reach my destination,
he deliberately steps in front of me and closes the door behind him,
barricading me in.

“Get out of my way.” I wheeze breathlessly, somehow finding
the strength to stand up despite the agonising ain in my chest.

“Who is this? Surely it can’t be my sweet little Bethany.
You really think I’m going to just let you walk out of here after all of the
lies you’ve told, after all of your dishonesty and deceit?” He finally turns on
my bedroom lamp, causing my eyes to squint in the sudden light.  

“What do you want from me?”

“I want answers.”

He takes a step closer towards me and I can’t help but take
three steps back. My father’s not a tall man but he still towers above my tiny
height and there’s still enough darkness in the bedroom to keep him in the
shadows.

“How long have you known?” I whisper.

“I knew from the first moment I saw you two together in the
bookstore.” He tells me, his eyes remain so cold, so unfeeling. We’ve rarely
been in such close proximity to one another and I’m utterly repulsed by the
idea of him being so close to me now.  

I swallow anxiously. How could he have known about Jake
then? I remember that day and everything about it. Jake only came into the
bookstore because he was searching for me, he wanted to make things up with me
after our row and he only wanted to make sure I was alright. My father had
walked in on us but he couldn’t have known what was going on. The atmosphere
between the three of us had been awkward and uncomfortable but I don’t see how
he could have picked up on the fact that Jake and I were together.

 I remember the bruises he gave me after Jake left. He
was so angry; he interrogated me and asked me if I was lying to him about how I
knew Jake. He still assaulted me that day even when I swore to him I was
telling the truth. I know he’s being honest with me, he’s known since then, He
knew that I was lying to him and that’s why he punished me that day.

“If you’ve known all this time then why didn’t you say
something?” I tremble uncontrollably, barely able to speak.

“Because I wanted to watch you squirm. I needed to see you
suffer. I saw how easily you lied to me that day, pretending he was a customer.
You really tried to fool me, didn’t you?” He sniggers spitefully.

My eyes widen in horror, I can scarcely believe this man is
my actual father. His inhumanity and malice never fails to astound me.

“Why?” I sob helplessly.

“Because it’s what you deserved! You deserved to be
punished. I knew I had to wait, I had no proof and I needed evidence. I decided
to be observant, I watched your every move and I knew you would slip up
eventually. I figured out you had to be meeting him somewhere, you had to be
sneaking around. Although, I never thought you would stoop so low as to use
your dear old gran’s house.”

His insinuation makes me feel sick. He’s somehow managed to
twist everything Jake and I have shared into something putrid and distasteful.

“You followed me?” I can scarcely breathe; the thought of
it makes me shudder.

“I didn’t have to. I got a phone call last week from Mary;
your gran’s interfering next door neighbour. I gave the nosy old bag my number
a few years ago; I told her she should phone me first if there were any
problems with your gran. You can imagine my surprise last week when she did
just that.”

“What did she tell you?”

I can’t imagine what that woman would be able to tell him,
I haven’t seen or spoken to her in years.

“She phoned me with some very interesting information about
you. She told me all about the numerous visits you’ve been making to your
gran’s house and how peculiar she thought it was for you to be going there
whilst your gran was away. I assured her I would look into it and she went on
to praise me for being such a loyal and devoted son-in-law.” He’s so smug, so
arrogant and self-righteous; it makes me want to throw up.

“You disgust me.” I glare at him, hoping to convey every
single ounce of hatred that I feel for him.

“And you really think I care about what a little slut like
you thinks of me?” He taunts, his eyes wandering up and down my body in
revulsion.

I cower away from him, despising the word he just used to
describe me. I remember what he did to me when I was fourteen years old, when
he found out about the plans I had made plans to go out on a date to the
cinema. I remember how callous he was when he tore my skirt from me and
shortened its length before scrawling the word ‘whore’ on my T-shirt. He’s
always been an evil man but to know that he actually takes delight in hurting
me is inconceivable. It’s something no daughter wants to admit.

“I’m not what you’re calling me and I haven’t done anything
wrong. I lied to you because I knew it would be impossible to live the life I
chose for myself if I told you the truth.” I argue defiantly, trying to
extinguish the roaring blaze of fear threatening to take hold of me inside.

“I realised you were meeting him there and I’ve been making
the occasional visit to the house, hoping to find some evidence of your sordid
little rendezvous. I presume you’ve been enjoying yourself?”

“How did you get in?” I challenge him, unable to control my
inquisitive nature.

“I had a copy of her front door key made a long time ago. I
always knew it would come in handy. Guess what? It did.” He’s enjoying this;
the evil glint in his eyes is proof of his venomous malice.

“So you know about us. What now? I know you have some awful
punishment in mind so why don’t you just get it over with?” I challenge him.

 I don’t plan on giving into him. I’m not about to
admit defeat, not this time. My intention is to force his defences to come
down. He’ll only continue to take delight in this if he views my annihilation
as a conquest. His victory won’t taste so sweet if I put up a fight, he relies
upon my fear. He’s exactly like a predator; he seeks the thrill that comes from
toying with his prey. His appetite is hungry for revenge so I need to make this
as boring as I can for him.

“The punishment I have in mind for you is something you
can’t even begin to imagine. You’re no match for me, girl. You never were.” He
whispers directly into my ear, forcing me to swallow down the disgusting bile
in my throat.