He Would Not Stop

use of language and violence, neglect.

It was somehow my fault Pa was upset. I don’t know how it always seems to be my fault but it is. Pa told me I had to sleep in the basement tonight when he came home from work. He said that I wasn’t behaving, so he tossed me down into the dark and left me until morning. I thought for sure he was going to come down there and apologize, like how he usually does, but this time, he didn’t. He didn’t even get me for breakfast.

So J sat in the dark, patiently waiting, because I knew that if I called out to him, he would only leave me there longer. I wanted to go up there and apologize myself, but he didn’t let me out. It was okay, because I didn’t mind the dark. I even found a lantern and some paper to draw with while I wait for him to love me again.

Pa doesn’t mean it, I told myself. He’s probably upset about work. He can’t help it.

My thoughts did little to comfort me.

I wondered what it would be like if Momma was still here. If she didn’t leave me by myself. Or if Sumrenn didn’t leave with his wife Pwime. Would I be any safer?

I wondered what it would be like if Pa listened to my side of the story, if I came right out and told him what I liked and who and why and when I knew I did. Sometimes he has me executed. Others he kicks me out, disowning me and says I can never come back. In some, Pa tries to understand, because that’s what Momma would’ve wanted him to do. Because even under everything he hates about me, I’m his child.

And part of me still thought he would love me.

I’m his kid, wasn’t that enough?

I’m looking in the mirror and noting the slenderness of my limbs and the gauntness to my face. I haven’t cut my hair in a while, but to be honest, I like it when it is longer. It looks like Momma's. It lets me hide my face and shrink into the background so Pa won’t notice me. Sometimes I think it would be better if I pretended I’m a servant, one of the staff. That way, at least I’ll be treated like the position I am. A lowly servant who keeps fucking up. Not his son- his kid- who is about as useless as an inkless quill but who still manages to spill things and fuck up.

Today I put on an oversized poet shirt that was a hand-me-down from my only sibling Sumrenn, and some baggy highwaisted trousers that were also, probably, Sumrenn’s at some point. I slip on my quietest shoes and consider tying my hair back so Pa doesn’t see how long it’s gotten. I don’t end up tying it back but I fluff it around and try to make it look nice, even though I don’t feel like it and then head out of my room.

My Pa wanted to have dinner together today so it must be that he's feeling better and less upset about how this feud with the Wintressi family is going.

He meets me outside in the garden, which used to be Momma’s favourite place before she went away. I’m surprised that he would meet me out here, let alone eat in this place. He normally avoids anything to do with Momma, says she was a stain on his name.

Servants and staff brought us some lunch; a huge piece of pan fried swordfish and a nice big glass of Kinberry juice for Pa, and a small salad for me. I’m more hungry than that, but I know that he’ll say something if I ask for more. Plus, the dessert I say Cook baking looked exceptionally delicious so I can only hope to try that.

After we’re properly seated, which feels weird as I am sitting at his right hand side when I normally sit on the left. The right was reserved for Sumrenn only. Even Momma didn’t get to sit next to Pa. She had to sit at the end of the table. He looks at me with an odd look in his weirdly unglassy brown eyes and asks how my time has been.

I am genuinely taken aback by this. He never asks how things are when he isn't home. Why did he now?

Instinctly, I hunch my shoulders and murmur a ‘It was good, how was your time away?’ kind of answer.

“Speak up, Solstice.” Pa says, taking a bite of his fish. It looks beyond good while my salad looks wilty. I repeat myself, a click or two louder. “Did you sleep well? You look sick.”

“I slept fine…I think I need to…” I pause, unsure of what I should say. I know I look atrocious, but that’s just part of the process to lose weight. Right?

“I’m losing weight, like you told me to before you left.” Pa makes a humming noise in the back of his throat, then takes a sip of Kinberry juice.

“You could stand to gain some, it seems,” He laughs, poking at my ribs. I chuckle with him, feeling some part of my heart crack. I worked so hard while he was away and he says now I need to bulk up. I lower my head and hide behind my hair. Pa takes another bite of his food while I poke at my lettuce.

“Hey, Solstice, why so gloomy?” His voice seems light, and not angry. Weird, I feel like I haven’t heard it like that since before Momma “stained his name”.

“You said, before you left, that I needed to lose weight. So I did. And then you come back and say that I need to gain weight, not lose it.” My voice is small and tiny.

“Speak up.” So I do, I repeat myself and then look at his eyes for any indication that he feels sorry. His brown eyes just stare at me blankly.

“No.” He finally says. “No, I said for you to get in better shape, not for you to starve yourself.” Pa calls to the servants and tells them to bring me more food. The servants come back with two plates I know I’ll never finish.

“Here, eat.” he gestures to the food. I sniff and poke at the fish. “What are you, too good for this food? Eat it, you’re skin and bones, Solstice.” The anger is back in his voice.

There we go. There’s the Pa I know.

“No, I’m not too good for it or anything, I’m just not really hungry, Pa.” I hide behind my hair again and take the smallest bite known to man. As I reach for my glass, one of the sleeves of Sumrenn’s old poet shirt nearly dips onto one of the pieces of fish that Pa has laid out for me. I snatch my arm back and roll up the sleeve before reaching for my cup of water again.

“What’s with these clothes? Why are they so big? You look like a ghost.” He laughs and then takes another gulp from his mug, wiping away the remnants of the wine from his lips with the back of his hand.

“They were Sumrenn’s old ones,” I don’t add the part I’m thinking - because you never bothered to get me a proper wardrobe of my own because I wasn’t the heir.

“Gods, they’re horrendous. Next time, wear something less…feminine and wear something a man would.” He then gestures to his own shirt, which isn’t much different than mine, maybe a little less flowy. I try my best not to make a sound and nod, pretending like what he said made sense. I tucked one stray wavy curl behind my ear and then realized my mistake.

“What in the hells is your hair doing?” I freeze. Shit.

“What’s wrong with it?” I ask, consciously touching my curly waves.

“It’s too long.” Pa says blatantly. He rolls his eyes and finishes his fish. “You look like a woman.” Pa says it like it’s a bad thing to have longer hair.

“I thought it looks nice. And so what if it looks like a woman’s? Is it bad?”

“Yes. Very.” His speech is slightly slurred.

Wow, so nice.

“Oh…Well, I like it so..” I trail off, noting my mistake. If I continued my sentence…. Gods.

A silence passes between us. He looks at me, anger in his eyes. Anger and hate. I take in a shaky breath and lower my gaze.

“So what if you like it. No son of mine is going to look like a woman. You’ll cut it.”

No, not going to happen. Not after I spent so long trying to get it to this length.

“What if I don’t?” My voice is quieter than a mouse.”I don’t think I’m going to cut it.”

“Oh really?” I nod once. Pa growls and stands angrily. “You won’t disobey me!” He slams his fist on the table and leans down to look me in the eye. “No son of mine will look like a woman. Get your ass up now!”

“But Pa, I’ve grown it out for so long-”

“I don’t care!” Pa downs the rest of his huge mug and slams it down, causing me to jump. “I don’t care if it took you years! I want no son of mine to look like a woman!”

“Then I guess I’m no son of yours.” I declare, even though my voice is not strong enough to be much of a declaration.

“What? You bitch! You don’t speak out at me!” I flick hair out of my eyes and stare at him. There is the tiniest fraction of a second where we just stare at each other, silence ringing in my ears. Then Pa grabs a fistfull of my wavy curls and yanks me out of my seat. “Stand! Up, now!” I cry out as he pulls me toward the estate.

“Pa! Let go, you’re hurting me!”

Pa yanks on my hair harder and pulls me along. “No man should cry. Stop being a tiny bitch.” He says angrily. Pa drags me through the halls until we reach my chambers. He flings open the door, startling the cleaners. He roars at them to leave and they scurry away, frightened. I cry out again as he drags me into my washroom. He pulls me into a proper standing position and forces me to look in the mirror. Tears well in my eyes but I’m too scared to cry. I don’t want to find out what he’ll do if I do.

Pa smiles and retrieves the scissors from the side of the sink. He holds it up to my hair. “No child of mine, no son, should have hair this long. What are you?”

“Pa, please, let me go,” I cry, tears threatening to spill. “Don’t do this, please, Pa.”

“You need to be taught a lesson.” Pa brings the scissors to my hair that I worked hard to grow out and starts hacking away at it, cutting unevenly and roughly. I scream and yell, trying to make him let go. I dig my nails into the skin of his arm but he doesn’t stop. Soon, after an agonizing minute, his hand pulls away from my head. I feel him pull out quite a bit of my hair as I fall to the washroom floor. I look up, no longer caring about not crying and see my pa with a huge fist full of my hair. I gingerly touch my scalp, my fingers coming away tinged red with blood.

“Pa…” my voice sounds broken and tiny. Sobs wrack my body. My hair looked like Momma’s, I realize, as Pa drops the large clump of hair. My ‘why’ comes out as a strangled sob.

Pa kicks my side and sends me onto the floor. He walks over me and scoffs. “Stop being a whiny bitch, like your mother. Boys don’t cry. It’s just hair.” Pa walks away.

“I hate you…” I whisper quietly. “I hate you!!!” I roar, my voice breaking and raw with tears. Pa stops.

“What did you say?”

“I fucking hate you! I hate you!” I scream it at him again and again and again and again. He turns around and wrenches me up by my wrist, twisting it badly.

“I gave you life! I gave you food!” pa yells as he drags me from my washroom, down flights of steps and past the kitchens. “I let you live under my roof! And this is how you repay me?” Multiple people jump out of my Pa’s way, scared he’ll do something to them if they even breathe the same air as him. “You dress like a woman! Grow your hair out like your bitch of a mother! Talk back to me like I am just some person. Well I am your lord and you’ll speak only when spoken to!” He leads me down a dark flight of steps I know all too well.

The stairs that lead to the basement.

“You are no longer my son!” Pa wrenches open the door and throws me into the darkness. “Rot down here until you fester. You’ll die down here, in the dark, alone!”

I grew to like the dark. I knew Pa wouldn’t let me back up for a long long while, so I had to. But still, I know that later, rather than sooner, Pa will come down here and tell me he’s sorry, in that dark tone of his and he’ll let me back up with enough grovelling.

Because I’m his kid, that means he loves me, right? Unconditionally?

What would Sumrenn do? I remember one time he told me that I needed to stop trying to please Pa. I regret that I tried to stop. Pa likes when I follow what he says I need to do.

Shit.

I need to get out of here. I’d scream but no one would hear me.

I guess I’ll have to grow to like the dark and the hunger.

A voice echoes across the darkened space.

“Do you want to get out? Stop waiting for your pa to change. Follow me.”