Ugh, I just want to climb into my bed and pretend this day never happened. Instead, I nod and follow dutifully behind Thomas as he escorts me to my father’s office, where he knocks on the door and gestures for me to head in.
“Sophie, how was your first day?” My father asks the minute I’m in the room, not looking up from whatever work is on his desk. I get the impression though that he’s not asking because he was worried his precious daughter might have had a stressful first day. No, he is trying to lure me into a false sense of safety, lower my defenses and catch me off guard. Not a chance, fucker.
“It was good,” I respond, keeping it vague, not wanting to share any part of my day with him.
He doesn’t initially acknowledge that I said anything, leaving me to stew in his silence as I stand awkwardly by the door. After a few minutes of this uncomfortableness, he finally looks up from the paperwork on his desk, fixing his cold gaze on me.
“I had a very interesting phone call today from one of your teachers, a Ms. Harrison?” He informs me, getting straight to the point while he studies me, wanting to see my reaction. I should have known he would have had the teachers in school reporting back to him.
“Did I or did I not tell you to keep your head down and stay out of trouble?” He demands, his voice impassive and apathetic. The effect is more chilling than if he yelled and showed me his anger.
“It wasn’t my fault. Someone -”
“I don’t care whose fault it is!” He snaps out, cutting over my excuse.
“I specifically said I couldn’t have you causing trouble for me here, yet, on your first day no less, you end up in detention for writing a dirty note.”
“I didn’t -” I start to justify.
“I don’t give a shit if you did or didn’t. You disobeyed me and I won’t stand for that disrespect in my house.” He warns, getting up from behind his desk and walking over to the fireplace, lifting the fireplace poker and sticking it into the coals, stoking the fire which seems to always be lit.
He gazes unseeingly into the fire for several long minutes while I continue to stand nervously by the door, not having worked up the courage to move further into the room and take a seat.
I start to shift restlessly from one foot to the other, twisting my hands in the pleats of my skirt while I wait for him to say or do something. He’s made it clear that I’m going to be punished for what happened today, I just wish he would get on with it and ground me, or whatever he’s going to do.
After what feels like forever, he finally turns away from the fire, stalking towards me with a predator’s unwavering attention. My palms are sweaty and I can hardly swallow past the lump in my throat as I watch him approach. There is a glint in his eye telling me that, although he’s angry, he is enjoying this position of power he has over me.
Before I can even register what has happened, an excruciating pain ignites in my side, and I cry out as my knees give way and I crash to the floor, bracing my hands against the wooden floorboards to stop myself from falling flat on my face. What the fuck?
The initial pain only lasts a second before it changes into a no less painful burning sensation spreading up the side of my body. The pain is so bad I can hardly breathe through it, gritting my teeth as tears leak out the corner of my eyes. I can’t do anything but sit there and focus on just breathing for several long moments.
Once I’ve finally gathered myself a bit, the pain still not having eased at all, I turn my head to take in my left side, trying to work out what happened to me.
There is a hole in my shirt, the edges of which are singed. Underneath, there is a long thin strip of bright red skin, the area wet and shiny looking, already starting to blister.
Whipping my head back to glare at my father, I watch as he sets the fireplace poker down beside the fire. Realisation kicks in. That motherfucker burnt me with the poker after stoking the fire. What in the seven hells is wrong with this monster?
As though nothing completely and utterly fucking insane just happened, Robert heads back to his desk, going back to work, ignoring the fact I’m in a crumpled heap on the floor.
“I didn’t want to do that to you, but you forced me to, when you didn’t follow my orders.” He says calmly, showing none of the rage he displayed earlier at my disobedience. He’s purged himself of that anger now, gotten his payback for my disrespect, and in doing so he has managed to make it seem as though this was all my fault, that I deserved the punishment I got.
Looking up from his work, he casts his eyes over me, sneering with disgust at my display of weakness. I have to say I’m disappointed in myself for letting him see me like this, for cowering in front of him, but it really fucking hurts.
“Perhaps now you will take what I say seriously. Now go clean up, you’re a mess.” He sneers, his lip curling in disgust.
I pick myself up from the floor, every movement causing a ripple of pain to flare up my side, but I refuse to show any more fragility in front of him, so I grit my teeth and make a concentrated effort not to let the pain show on my face as I gather myself together and leave the room.
I hobble slowly up to my bedroom, not meeting a single other person on my way. I’m not sure if I want to run into Thomas or not, if I want him to know what happened to me. What my father did to me.
Once I’m back in the safety of my bedroom, I head to the bathroom, running the tap and filling the sink with cold water while I dig around in the cabinets until I find a small first aid kit.
Stripping off my shirt and throwing it in the bin, I grab a small towel and drop it in the water, ensuring it’s soaked before I press it against my skin, hissing out a breath at the coldness and sting of pain.
Every time the towel warms up and the pain starts to return, I repeat the process until the pain is a dull ache.
Turning my attention to the first aid kit, I find a sterile non-adhesive bandage and some medical tape. Gently placing the bandage over the wound, I then secure it in place with the tape, ensuring it’s not held too tightly against the wound.
With the immediate problem now sorted, I hunt out some painkillers and swallow them down before stripping out of the rest of my clothing and putting on a loose tank top and some sweats. After tidying up behind myself, I drag my exhausted body over to the bed and climb under the covers.
I’m completely wrung out and tears have gathered behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I won’t let that sadistic fuck get to me.
Who does Robert think he is? What sort of fucked up life has he led that he thinks it’s ok to go around burning people just because they disrespected you?
He completely caught me off guard today. I never in my wildest dreams could have anticipated that reaction from him. But now I know what he is capable of, I’ll be prepared for every future interaction we have. He won’t catch me out again.
◆◆◆
Between the exhaustion and the painkillers, I must have fallen asleep. When I wake up, I see that it is early evening and my stomach is grumbling. I lie in bed, putting off the inevitable for as long as I can. When I can no longer ignore the intense growling sounds coming from my stomach, I give in and saunter out of my room and down the hall, towards the kitchen. I’ve missed dinner but hopefully Thomas will have a plate in the oven for me.