THE ALCOHOL… RIGHT?
I went back to the house after taking Flora to school. After arranging the house, doing some cleaning and doing laundry, I pulled out the newspapers I gathered to help me hunt for a lesson center. At least I’ll have a place to go, it’ll also be good to take some lessons before I go into college.
In the evening, Flora came back from school. Just the way mommy does, I asked her about her day and dutifully, she narrated her day in school to me. I’m still very happy that she’s adapted to being around other kids that ain’t white American kids.
After dinner, “I’m gonna retire for the night, Aria. I’ve got a speech to present tomorrow so I gotta sleep early. Wouldn’t wanna be dead on my feet when am presenting it.” Flora said, standing up and yawning.
I smiled as I gathered the plates, “You give speeches too now?”
She bobbed her head affirmatively, “Yea. But they don’t understand most of what I have to present. You know, my english pronunciation being different and all. Our teacher’s ears do twitch whenever I’m talking because she’s trying so hard to grab the words.” She deadpanned.
I burst out laughing. This is the most Flora has said since mommy died, God I’m grateful she’s coming back to herself. “That’s very funny and quite unfortunate, Lora.”
The ten-year-old shrugged, “It’s as it is, Aria. I try to talk slowly so they’ll understand.” she said as she walked into her room shouting ‘Good night’ from the door.
I followed her to the room to try and put her to sleep. I tugged her in, sang her favourite lullaby like mom used to do and in no time, she was already asleep.
As I tried to walk to my own room, I heard the loud voice…
“Ariana!” Daddy bellowed from the doorway.
“I’m coming” I answered as I quickly closed Flora’s room so she won’t wake up. I walked into the sitting room and saw daddy staggering his way into the house.
Drunk. Wait, why am I not surprised? Oh yea, it’s because I’ve seen more of the Drunk him for the past month now than the Sober him.
I walked to him, held his right hand and helped him to his room. We walked slow and steady, finding his footing until he got to the king-sized bed, he treated it like a saviour, falling straight on top of it and using his forearm to cover his eyes as if the light’s not allowed.
I exhaled. Then, benting down, I removed his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt so he can get some fresh air, I went to the kitchen and made him hang-over tea, the way mommy always did. I never said my dad’s drinking started recently, did I?
No, I didn’t. His drinking just got worse.
I took the tea to him, stretching out an arm, he took the teacup from me and downed the content in a swing. I took the cup back from him, about to get up, but he grabbed my hand. Removing the arm coming his eyes, he looked at me. He stared for a while, I lifted my weight from one foot to another in a sure sign of unease.
“You’re a replica of the younger version of your mom.” He said at last.
I relaxed, keeping the teacup on the nightstand, I sat beside him. He was her husband, he must be missing mommy a lot.
He shook his head. “You look so much like her, Ariana.” he said as his hand caressed my thighs.
“I miss her too, Dad” I tried to console him even as I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“Your mother and I had our differences, but make no mistake that I loved her so much. I love you also Ariana.”
“I know dad. And Flora and I love you too.”
He pulled me to him in a hug. I closed my eyes and held on tight. He caressed my back, rubbing it up and down… Then, I felt my bra unclasp.
Surely that was a mistake. The hooks ain’t holding right anyway, I mused to myself as I relaxed in my father’s embrace. Then, I felt his large hand pulling my blouse up, felt it on my skin…!
“Daddy? ” I implored uncertainly.
“Shh honey, just feel. I love you so much, Ariana. Make no mistake about that, baby.” Daddy groaned.
His hand moved from my back to the front, it went up… up… up… to my…!!
I sprang out of the bed, appalled as he caressed my breast. “Daddy, what were you doing?” I asked, suddenly scared.
“Don’t be scared, Ariana. It’s me, your father. Come back to the bed honey.” He stretched out his hand.
I took another step back, out of his reach. “You’re just drunk, daddy.” I said in a little voice.
“Yea, keep telling yourself that.” He smirked at me.
Oh God. I bolted out of the room, running straight to my room, I entered, locking the door and barricading it with my dresser.
“Daddy was just drunk. Daddy was just drunk. He wouldn’t have done that clear-headedly.” I kept reciting that like a mantra to myself as I tried to calm down and hook my brassiere back.
Must be the alcohol talking. Yea, that’s right it’s the alcohol. I went to my bed and got under the covers, pulling the bed cover to my cheeks as I tried to sleep.
Oh God… It better be the alcohol talking.
WATCH OUT FOR EPISODE 4 :