English Recount

“So tell me more about your life Rose,” He insisted. I guess that’s the downside of having a relationship with a psychology student/musician. They know how to get things out of you really well. if the romance fails they try and play with your mind…

“There’s got to be a reason for the way you are.” He said, finally. The way I am? So much for being professional, he would never talk to a patient like that. I looked up at him, not knowing what to say. I had a million questions in mind, a thousand doubts. How could I just say it all? How can I trust someone with my life?

“Look, I’m sorry I just said that… I’m just worried about you because you wont talk to me…” Conner said, making another attempt at speaking to me. He looked frustrated, at himself. I looked away; staring at the ground I took myself back to those years. A teardrop fell on the floor as I felt Conner’s grip on my hand get tighter.

“ I was 8 years old… living with mum and dad, things weren’t always good at home. They always fought a lot, dad was always beating mum up and my brother and I use to go and sit upstairs, listen to them fight, sometimes watch…” I paused, remembering that one time when dad wanted to leave the house in anger and mum wouldn’t let him so he picked up the phone and hit her with it, not once, not twice but several times so I climbed down stairs and took her away from him. I was raging with anger to even realise what I was going to do next. I turned to my dad and slapped him on his face, telling him to leave my mother alone. That night was something… I really got it bad after that, but I was never expecting to be left without being hit anyway.

I closed my eyes, letting the tears roll down my cheeks, trying my best not to break down completely, I decided to keep that incident to myself and not speak about it. I couldn’t do it. “Anyway, eventually they got divorced and dad left the house. A part of me was so glad, yet I was heart broken because I always wanted a father… I wanted a family… but more then a family, I wanted him out of our lives. Mum put me in boarding school, she thought it would be better for me, so I left…”

April 14^th 2001

“Rose! Your dad’s here to see you!” Mrs.Arora said, coming up to the girl’s dorm.

“My dad? Already?” I asked, confused. Mum did mention he was coming today but I didn’t think he would arrive by 9.30am. I’d asked mum to tell the principle to not allow dad to see me but mum said I should go… he’s your father Rose, what happened between him and me shouldn’t get between you two, he loves you…go spend the day with him, you’ll enjoy yourself. She had said. How could I possibly tell her?

“Come on, what are you thinking?” Mrs.Arora asked. I told her I didn’t want to go, and she started lecturing me. I didn’t know why she was doing it, nor could I ask her to stop, so I just went ahead and met him. He seemed… happy to see me. I forced myself to smile, flashes of the past returning. I shrugged them away, not wanting to remember any of it. He was here for 2 days, and mum said I was staying with him those 2 days. I really wanted to come back here to my hostel at night; I didn’t want to stay with him… but I did. We went around the city, ate a lot of junk food and he bought me stuff for when I went back. We went sight seeing and finally went back to the hotel at about 9.00pm.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?” He asked, getting inside the blanket on the double bed.

“No dad, I’m going to watch some TV,” I replied, not taking my eyes off of the television. I wanted to wait till he’d fallen asleep, but he didn’t – not even after I’d finished watching anything and everything that was on TV. I turned to him, looking for another excuse.

“Can I order an ice coffee?” I asked, looking at the clock, it was half past twelve. He looked at me weirdly at 1^st and then said yes. This should take up some of my time…

“Rose… what’s wrong?” Conner asked, pushing my hair off of my face and wiping my tears. I couldn’t stop crying, it was hard to speak while sobbing, and I just wanted to be left alone.

“I cant… I just can’t say it ok!” I snapped, getting out of the chair and walking towards the bedroom. I wish he’d just leave me alone. I knew I had to do this sometime, but this just wasn’t the right time. It would never be the right time to talk about my past. I slightly shut the door and sat down on the floor behind it, thinking about what I’d become. I didn’t trust anymore… I always had a negative judgement towards people. Specially men, I can’t stand it when they’re nice to me – I’d rather a man is mean to me then being nice. I doubt every single one of them and I hate who I’ve become. I wish I wasn’t so paranoid – not every nice man is trying to hurt me. I knew that, but I just didn’t believe it. I’ve been hurt too many times and always ended up with men like my father, its like unintentionally I only look for the bad types, because he was bad… and now when I’ve finally found someone who loves me and cares about me, I’m always pushing him away because I cant get myself to trust him… “I’m a mess,” I said to myself, bursting in tears.

Conner was sitting on the couch, going through the newspaper. He looked lost in some thoughts; I made myself sit next to him. He quickly sat up straight and held my hand. It wasn’t comfort I needed. What I really needed was to talk, be able to discuss my past.

“Dad stop it! You’re tickling me,” I said, taking his hand away from my bare stomach. I held my breath in, not wanting to make a sound. Maybe he will think I’ve fallen asleep. His hand reached my stomach again; he touched me gently, from one side to the other. I shut my eyes, not wanting to cry.

“Do you feel anything? Does that feel nice?” He whispered in my ears, kissing my neck. I didn’t reply, I couldn’t. I sucked my stomach in tight, I just wanted to get up and run away. I wanted to go back to my boarding school. His hands slipped down my shorts, feeling my inner thigh as a tear rolled down my eye. I tried not to make any sound but eventually shrugged. “Dad, I’m trying to sleep. Please.” I said, moving to my side, facing my back towards him. I told myself it’s ok, I’m ok… it will be morning before I even know it and soon I’ll be back to where I belong.

When I got back to the hostel, I wrote a letter to Mrs.Arora and slid it under her door.

“Since when Rose?” She asked, sounding disgusted. I looked away, feeling the cold breeze right down my throat into my stomach.

“Since I was really young,” I whispered, watching the stars twinkle above me. They’d seen it all, they were my witnesses. They knew what I’d been through…

“Oh Rose, I wish you would have said something,” She said, her eyes filling up with tears. I wish… I wish I had… I hugged her, finally letting it all out.

“I feel so scared… I – I don’t want to go near him, or any man! I don’t want them to be nice to me… I wish they’d all just go away!” I screamed through tears. I didn’t want to let go of her; I wish she’d stay forever. She brushed her hand through my hair and calmed me down, even though she was crying herself. “I feel so disgusting… I hate myself… I wish I’d never been alive; it’s all my fault. All I ever wanted was a father, I looked up to him. He used me when I wasn’t even old enough to realise what he was doing!” I explained. She said it wasn’t my fault at all. I wasn’t the one who had done anything wrong.

“He disgusts me… sweetheart, I need you to know I’ve spoken to your mum… she’s going to be here by tomorrow night,” Mrs.Arora said, looking in my eyes, trying to reassure me that everything would be okay. Oh no, she had told mum… I didn’t want to face mum – but I had to. Sooner or later, it had to be done. Mum doesn’t know why she’s been called here yet – she must be so worried, wondering what’s gone wrong with her daughter – this will be the biggest shock of her life…

“I – I can’t believe he could do this to you,” Conner said after a few moments. “Rose, it’s not your fault. You have every right to be negative with your 1^st impression. Anyone would be, and sweetheart, I admire the way you’ve dealt with it, you never gave up… you’re a strong girl.” He said trying to comfort me.

“I’m sorry Conner, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust a guy… I cant do it… I know you love me and you mean no harm but I just cant – not after everything.” We both sat in silence for sometime. No words were spoken; he let me cry in his arms.

“You have no idea what it’s like, to lay there, in the same bed as your father and his girlfriend while he makes love to her. Its – its toucher… to be awake yet not move an inch, to have your own father try and abuse you…” I finally said, looking up at him. He could see the pain in my eyes.

“Is that – why you never wanted your own kids?” He asked, quietly. I nodded, biting my lips tight. My eyes felt so warm; they’d almost swollen up enough for me to not be able to open them completely. I covered my face with my hands.

“I can’t trust anyone – not with their lives. I don’t want them to go through what I did.” I said, hoping he would understand how I felt. I really wished he did… because there was nothing more I could do. I looked at the tea table, there was a scrunched up piece of paper, I recognised it well. It was my poem. The one I’d written and then chucked in the bin…that was three years back… I picked it up and looked at it. I – Conner had kept it… I knew I didn’t need any words to say thankyou, he knew what I was feeling. He knows I’ll never be able to forget that part of my life. It’s a scar that won’t heal, but there’s another truth to it, it’s my past… it’s gone.

Here I stand, drowning in my own pain,
The ticking of the clock is the only thing that
Keeps me from going insane.
I smile, I try, when I feel lost, I even cry…
The day you left had made me strong, my faith
In you was always wrong…
Yet time-to-time I cry myself to sleep,
I whisper all night, ‘no weep, no weep…’
I know my life will never be the same,
I know it had changed that day you came.
The scars you left will remain with me,
Something I’ll keep to myself, no-body will ever see…
So here I stand, drowning in my own pain,
I try to look around but I’m lost, like tears
In the Rain…

[Hey Guys, well this is the end of the Recount.. a recount can be anything from the past, and it doesnt necesserely have to be your past - you can be anyone you like, which in other words means your Recount can be whatever - it's all up to your imagination = ) but I just wanted to say that this Poem is mine - completely original and produced by me!! So if you like it, or have anything to say about the Poem or the Recount, please leave a Comment below, thanks = )..] Saloni xoxo