Anika
TW: ABUSE AND SUICIDAL INTENTIONS. Read at your own risk.
My heart races indefinitely as my father's eyes stare at me with humiliation. I yelp as he grabs my arm with such intense force and pulls me inside of the house, slamming the door behind him.
"Where the hell were you?" he hisses as I lurch inside of the house, my feet stumbling and almost losing balance. I realize that he's eyes are fuming red, his voice shaking with anger and his eyebrows perched upwards. And I also realize that I might possibly die tonight.
"I-I was at Emily's house," I stutter, backing away from him. "She called me over, and I just wanted to hang out with her, and Iâ"
"Anika Desai!" He yells, stomping towards me. "Don't make these excuses with your father! I taught you better than that!"
I slowly back away towards him, my heart racing with fear and my hand placed on my stomach because I'm nauseous with anxiety. "Please, believe me! I'm telling the truthâ"
"I wanted to come home early and spend time with you," my father declares. "So I decided to come home early." His big hands touch my shoulders, my eyes widening with fear. "But turns out that my immature and irresponsible daughter decided to leave her phone at home, acknowledging the fact that her father might be worried out of his mind!" His wide eyes stare me down in anger.
Then, he pulls something out of his pocket as I gasp in shock. He... he has my phone?!
"And I also noticed something else," he whispers, slowly walking towards me. My feet stay glued to the floor as my lips dry. No, no, no, no...
"Let's see who Anika Desai has been texting the most lately," he speaks, a mischievous smile spreading on his face. His fingers scroll through my phone. I have no energy or willpower to stop him because I know this is the end of me and my freedom, the little freedom I had left.
"It's not Emily," he continues to speak. "Or is it either of your professors or relatives. But, no. It's a boy named Shaurya Roy. Shall I read the texts out loud?"
"Dad, no! It's okay, you can punish me, but please don't--"
"Shaurya said to you, 'Parents can suck sometimes, I understand. Your father probably just doesn't know how to parent properly HAHA!' This was sent two days ago. And you replied, 'Yes! He probably doesn't,' with a smiley-face at the end."
My lips stay glued together and my feet stay planted on the ground. I feel tears brimming on my eyelids, me on the verge of bursting into tears. But, no! I have to stay strong! All my entire life I have looked up towards my father, following in his footsteps and obeying whatever the hell he said to me.
But now, it's gonna be different.
I'm not gonna let him take over my life anymore. I'm not going to obey every single word of his anymore. And I'm sure as hell not gonna let him take my freedom away from me anymore.
My mouth finally opens up. "No."
My father's red eyes narrow in shock. He holds my hand out by the side and mutters, "What did you just say?" Old me would've been scared out of my mind just by those words, but... no. Not anymore.
"I said," I pause, walking up to him until our faces were inches apart. "No," I breathe out. My father's mouth is slightly gaped open, as he stutters. Then, I continue to speak, "I'm tired of you treating me like a 10 year old. I mean... I'm 21, for God's sake!" My voice trembles out. "I'm allowed to do whatever I want to do, because its my rights. And I'm sorry, but you have no right to tell me what I can and can't do!"
I am interrupted from my speech as my father's hand makes eye contact with my cheek, slapping me vigorously. I feel my cheeks immediately warming up as I gasp in shock.
Did he just... slap me? As if slapping me was going to shut me up?
I hold my hand against my cheek as it stings from the aftermath of the hit. Hot tears brim against my eyelids, but I quickly brush them away with my other hand. No! I will not seem weak to my father!
All my life I have backed down against his power and his presence. Whenever he uttered a word, I would obey his doing and fulfill his wishes like a lifeless robot. Now I am presumably done with his bullshit as he continues to breathe on my neck and control my life like I'm still a little kid. I will not tolerate this anymore.
My father's angry eyes stare me down as my eyes manage to look at him with a hint of concern and distinctiveness, as if I'm questioning his authority. I manage to take a deep breath, feeling my voice tremble as I speak. "Did you honestly think that slapping me was going to silence me?"
I expect my father to get riled up and slap me again, but instead his eyebrows lower in unresponsiveness as his mouth opens in shock. "Wh-what?" he mutters.
"I said," I speak out, "Did you honestly think that slapping me was going to silence me?" He starts to interrupt me but I say louder, "All my life, Dad, I felt completely overshadowed by you. You always took control of me and my life, never let me hang out with anyone, nor did you ever let me actually have a life for once. It sucks, the things you expect me to accomplish," my voice cracks. "You can't keep treating me like this. Like, what am I to you? A doll that you can torture? A dog? Or some sort of piece of trash? That's not fair," I whisper. "It's not fair to Mom either. She would've been disappointed in you if you ever did this to me, which you never tortured me like this when she was alive. Like, why, Dad? Why would you do this to me? You don't have to express your sorrows through violence and anger. If you ever want to talk about Mom, just let me know and we'll peacefully talk through this. I just never wanted life to be this difficult, and neither did I expect for you to be this difficult either--"
"SHUT UP!" I hear a booming voice escape from my father as I literally heard the walls shook in agony. His voice resonated like a thunderclap, a sound that is destined to keep my heart thumping against my chest a pace faster. The room gets really silent as I felt my breath heaving unevenly.
My father walks towards me in heavy footsteps and sunken eyes, as his lips are chapped with dryness. "Have you got no shame?" he mutters, his voice dry with shock. "Never have I ever expected my own daughter, from my own blood, to disrespect me like that."
"I'm not disrespecting you!" I shriek. "I'm just mainly stating facts."
"Facts?" he murmurs. "Is this is the terminology you're using now? 'Facts'? Is this what your boyfriend Shaurya has been teaching you?" He holds my phone up at me as I completely realize he still has my phone in his hand.
"Wha--" my face flushes red. "He's not my boyfriend! He's just a friend!"
"Well, he clearly wants to be more than friends since he'll do anything to turn you against me."
"No, it's not like that!" I yell. "You're not getting this, Dad. I'm not trying to let anyone turn against you. You just won't get it," I mutter. "You haven't been getting anything lately. I mean, you think that you know everything, but you really don't. You don't know shit that's been happening lately!"
As those words escape from my mouth, I quickly gasp as I place my hands on my lip. My father's left eye twitches in anger as I soon realize that I am done, that I am about to enter my grave.
I abruptly then gasp as his fingers grasp my hair with such power and force. My hair feels like it's getting yanked out of its roots, pulled out against its will. My mouth opens in pain as a painful screech escapes from me. "D-Dad... stop!"
"Stop, my ass," he grunts. His hand still grasps my air as I squeak out in agony. My back lands on the floor as he literally drags me across the floor. Tears run down my face in pain and suffering as he then pushes me up the stairs, dragging me along with him.
"'You haven't been getting anything lately... you think you know everything, but you really don't... you don't know shit that's been happening lately...'" my father mutters along as I continue to grunt and scream in pain, my back hitting against the hard tile flooring.
He stops at my room as I finally stop screaming in pain. My back aches from hitting those stair steps, especially since they aren't covered in carpeting. My hair is tangled through his fingers as he finally lets go. I moan in relief as I place my hand on my head, crying silently to myself.
"You are not allowed to leave this room until tomorrow morning when you leave for college," he monotonously orders. "You will bring your phone with you wherever you go and you will come home as soon as all of your classes finish. And I do not want you to associate with that boy you have been talking to ever again. You understand me?"
I sniffle to myself, trying my very best to ignore his remarks.
"I said..." he grunts, "Do you understand me?!" He sends me yelling to the floor as he kicks the side of my body, particularly my ribs. I grit my teeth in pain, shaking and sobbing to myself. "I-I understand!" I moan out. "I do!"
"Good!" his voice booms. "You will stay in your room until the night!"
I nod my head rapidly, pushing myself into my room, immediately slamming the door behind me. As I continue to silently cry to myself, I hear my father's footsteps fade away. I wait until it is dead silent outside until I burst out in tears, crying as loudly as my lungs can allow.
I feel my heart pouring out in this tears, these tears that manage to let my sorrows away but bring it right back as reality dawns on me: I am on full lockdown mode. I am not allowed to go anywhere, do anything, or even breathe in peace.
What do I do now?
I feel lost and hurt. Lost because I don't know where this shitty life is leading me, where this bumpy path concludes to. And hurt because my own father would abuse me like this, treat me like a nonliving substance that doesn't even deserve to live in this world.
My feet ache as I pull myself up. Trembling lips and heaving breaths, I slowly walk myself to the dresser, seeing the glass stare back at me.
I see a hopeless and helpless skinny girl that shakes beneath her toes. She's clenching her side in pain, crumbling to her feet as she makes her way to the dresser, even closer. Then, she goes right ahead and smashes her fist against the dresser, again and again until tiny shreds of glass appear on her table.
She takes one of the shreds, a tiny yet very dangerous piece of glass, and stares at the gleaming sharp edge of the glass. Its reflection shines against the light, the jagged edge of the sharp piece staring back as if it's mocking her.
Tears start to abruptly form again as they spill helplessly. She takes deep breaths to calm herself down, but nothing does. All that happens is more and more crying, more and more hallucinating and more and more heaving breaths.
She can't do this, right? She can't do this to the people that she loves, or that loves her.
But she can't handle this anymore. She knows that after her mother left this world, there was no point in living. Especially with her father.
She quickly apologizes to her friends. She didn't mean to end it like this, and she knows that she wouldn't have been able to survive the first few years of college without them. Em and Ty, she loves you. She truly does.
Her mind then travels to Shaurya, who helped her reveal a new side of herself and made her worries disappear. She had good feelings about him, and possibly actual feelings for him. His deep, piercing brown eyes appeared in her mind as a sad smile formed on her lips. She's going to miss you, Shaurya.
Then, she thinks of her mother, who left this earth too soon. Cancer took her away, unfortunately, and now she lives with the burdening despair and loneliness without her. She feels her heart crumbling to pieces as her mother's soft spoken smile filled her memories and her sweet voice resonating in her mind. She apologizes for what she's about to do, the dreadful thing that she never thought she'd ever have to be able to do.
She takes a deep breath, slowly placing the piece of glass against the skin on her wrist. In one swipe, all of her pain would be over. All of her sorrows, dreadfulness, and depression would disappear with one quick and painful movement.
Mumbling words to herself, she then stares at the glass, closes her eyes, and lets the glass move.
*
A/N:
Am I the only one crying...
I honestly have no words for this chapter. Like, I understood the pain Anika felt as I typed those very words above. Suicide is not a joke, and it shouldn't be taken as a joke as well. There are many people that suffer with depression, abuse, or suicidal thoughts or actions, and whoever suffers from it NEEDS to take action.
Never hesitate to talk to others or contact others that are in need or if YOU need help. Please don't hesitate.
PSA. sorry for the late update. I had Diwali weekend, lol. And this weekend as well I probably won't be able to update because I'll be out of town. So maybe Tuesday I'll be updating!
-Ru <3