by Manjeet Mann
more
excuses.
He can wait
five minutes.
When he starts to rage,
I stand in front of Mum.
He tries to take a punch.
I catch his fist.
I hold it tight.
Mum screams.
Leave it. Leave it!
I don’t want you to get hurt.
I stand tall.
I stand strong.
My stare unflinching,
my body strong.
And suddenly
Dad doesn’t seem
that big any more.
Huh,
I think.
Looks like
I do
have my dad’s height
after all.
Be a rebel
and rebel.
Be strong
even when you don’t feel it.
Scale mountains
even if you’re afraid of heights.
They say don’t,
so you do.
They say can’t,
you say can.
Step outside the box.
Colour outside the lines.
Be a rebel
and rebel.
OVERTHROW
Forcible
removal
from
power.
By
any
means
possible.
Dad stumbles
in disbelief.
In shock.
His face
a map of confusion.
We have never
stood up to him before.
He looks smaller,
vulnerable almost.
I want to hug him
and hit him.
I want to say sorry
and scream.
I want to beg for it to stop
so we can stay together,
and I want to run
so we can find a home elsewhere.
I’m still holding his fist when
I push him down on to a chair.
This ends now.
How dare you. How dare you raise your hand to me!
He shakes as the words
leave his mouth.
I’ll do whatever it takes to look after Mum.
This isn’t you. This isn’t my Amber.
It is now.
Mum tells me
we are leaving.
I just need
a small suitcase.
I am to pack the essentials,
we can come back for the rest
another time.
Mum gives me a business card.
Call the number,
she says.
I look at the card.
It’s Beena’s number.
I was right.
Mum has been thinking
about this for some time.
I want to say no.
I want to say
I stopped him,
I’m stronger now,
I can protect us both.
Why are you hesitating?
Quick, call. We don’t have time.
I hear the fear in her voice
and dial Beena’s number.
Dad tries to stop us.
Standing in front of the door.
Blocking our way.
Mum tries to move
him; he grabs her arm.
Stop. Just listen to me.
I pounce.
Let go of her.
I’m still your father.
Then act like one!
We hear a car pull up outside.
Mum looks through the window as
Dad continues to block the door.
Dad’s crying.
He’s grabbed hold of Mum’s suitcase,
standing in the doorway,
stopping us from leaving.
Why, why, why?
His head in his hands,
pleading.
Mum tells him we’re
staying at Ruby’s.
Our bags are packed,
Beena is waiting in the car.
His head hung low,
he falls to his knees,
touching Mum’s feet,
begging us to stay.
A sight more distressing
than his anger.
We’re taking so long,
Beena comes knocking on the door.
Is everything OK?
I hear her shout.
You can leave, this is all your fault.
This is my wife and daughter.
They aren’t going anywhere.
Should I call the police?
NO! We’ll be OK.
I plead.
Dad, please.
Let us go.
It’s just for a night.
We’ll be back.
Just let us go.
I don’t know if that’s true.
I don’t know if it’s just one night.
I don’t know anything right now.
that you can’t love?
What happened to you
that evokes so much rage?
What happened to you
that makes you so sad?
I recognize it.
It’s inside me,
it’s inside Ruby,
it’s inside Mum.
An anatomy of sadness.
Is there
a way to break free
without breaking us apart?
Is there
a way you can learn from the past
and heal from the hurt?
Is there
a way to stay together
and still move on?
Is there
a way to forgive the person
who has caused you so much pain?
Maybe
if I’m there to defend.
Maybe
now I’m taller and stronger.
Maybe
he’ll change and shift into someone else.
Maybe
he’ll become the person he was before.
Maybe
we all can.
Beena takes us to her car.
David is waiting in the back seat.
He gives me a half smile,
a smile desperate to portray
strength and conceal his fear.
I half smile back.
My fear tattooed
on every bit of skin.
I feel completely exposed.
We load our belongings
into the boot.
So strange seeing your life
in a couple of suitcases.
I take one last look at the house.
I see Dad at the kitchen window.
I look across the street.
I see The Man outside his house.
He waves at my mother.
I look back at Dad staring out of the window.
I look back at The Man.
There’s a tightening in my chest
as we drive away from our home
and out of the estate.
David shuffles up close
to me in the back seat.
He takes my hand –
I immediately pull away
and mouth,
My mum!
I’m sorry,
he whispers back.
Mum didn’t want me to come
but I had to, I couldn’t leave you.
Did I do the right thing?
You did.
I’m glad, I say,
but seriously, move over!
This is my son,
Beena tells Mum.
Mum looks at me,
then looks at David
and back at me.
My body, tense
my face, hot
my eyes, failing
to look innocent.
How long will we be gone?
My question remains unanswered
as we drive in silence
; to Ruby and Jas’s house.
Jas pumps air
into blow-up mattresses.
Their lounge
is our bedroom
for the foreseeable future.
I’m trying to take it all in.
Thinking about what this new life means,
what this new life might look like.
There’s an unsettled feeling in my gut.
They say Mum is safe now.
But I don’t feel safe.
I still feel far from safe.
It’s going
to be
a long
night.
David and I
sit in the kitchen,
helping Jas
cook dinner and
listening to
Ruby and Beena
talking in the lounge.
Beena sits with Mum,
going through options.
I’m not sending them to a refuge,
says Ruby.
They can stay here,
live with us for as long as they want.
Beena talks about
filing charges,
the police,
court injunctions.
Mum’s not sure.
I feel
confused.
I always wanted to leave,
but knowing I might
not see him again
makes my heart ache.
You all right, our kid?
Jas takes the garlic
I’ve been chopping.
I shrug.
Your mum’s really brave.
You’re gonna be OK.
You’re safe now,
he says.
There’s that word again.
Safe.
You OK, Amber?
David’s voice seems distant,
as old fears creep in
and everything starts spinning.
Whoa! you OK?
David’s holding my hand
while the room is still spinning and
the smell of burning garlic
makes me want to vomit.
Slowly in …
And out …
Look at me …
In … and out …
Jas standing over me,
reminding me how to breathe.
You’re going to be OK.
Beena, Ruby and Mum
rush into the kitchen.
What’s going on?
Mum looks terrified.
She’s having a panic attack
but she’s OK.
I’m not OK,
I say.
He’s going to come after me.
Who?
The Man.
What man?
Everyone but Ruby
seems confused.
David butts in.
Mr Garcha, who lives across the road.
The one who murdered his daughter …
Mum sits down.
She looks at me.
She seems nervous
and scared,
which makes me
panic again.
Dad … Dad … always said …
Always said … that he’d come for us
if we ever … if we ever …
I’m finding it hard
to breathe again.
David puts a hand
on my shoulder,
which instantly calms me.
Mum looks down.
I’m so sorry,
she says.
I’m so sorry.
None of it was true. It was something he said
to keep you from straying … I never thought you
would take it seriously, otherwise I never would
have … I’m so sorry.
I look at Ruby.
Did you know?
No,
she says, taking a seat.
All this time …
Tara calls.
When she arrives,
we run towards each other
and stay in the tightest hug
for the longest time.
The three of us together.
I know you don’t like this sort of stuff,
but here’s a crystal. It’s got real healing powers.
It’s small enough to carry around with you. It works, trust me.
I take the jagged purple stone
and hold it tight in my fist.
Thank you, Tara.
The two of them
breathing courage
and love
into every cell.
Sticking all
the broken pieces
of me
together again.
My mind is racing.
It won’t stop.
I can’t make sense of the noise.
I can’t separate the images.
I can’t hear the words.
It’s all so loud,
so confusing,
so heavy.
I am nobody’s property.
Not my husband’s.
Not my brother’s.
Not my father’s.
This I know.
The weight of a wound
carried on my back
for all of my life
slowly lifting.
I lie awake,
feeling like a weight
has been lifted,
like a wish
I didn’t know I had made
has been granted.
Ruby comes into school
and talks about my situation
to my head of year.
I hate the looks of sorrow.
I’m strong,
I want to say.
Nothing hurts me,
not any more.
They keep asking if I’m OK
and I keep shrugging.
I don’t want to talk.
Why do I need to talk?
I get extenuating circumstances,
which basically means
I can hand work in late.
I’m also told
to go for some counselling.
Which I accept.
Reluctantly.
My essay of lies
of a perfect Christmas
failed to impress.
My extenuating circumstances
allow me to resubmit my English essay.
A second chance to pass.
A second chance to
write my truth.
Tara and David
figured I needed a break
from lessons,
from everything.
So are you two together then or what?
With everything that’s been happening
I realize I’ve not spoken to Tara
about David,
the postcard
or anything.
I also realize that
David and I
haven’t spoken about
that day either.
What are you guys waiting for?
I guess we haven’t had a chance
to talk about things,
I say.
Neither of us can look at each other.
Well, don’t let me stand in the way. Talk!
Thanks, Tara, but I think we’ll talk privately.
Why? One of you will tell me all the gory
details anyway – this way you save time.
We sit in silence,
David and I looking
red-faced.
Ugh! Fine. Have it your way. What do you guys fancy doing?
The world is our oyster!
I’m happy just hanging out here.
Me too.
Me three.
So that’s
exactly
what we do.
A whole
new way
of life.
A whole
new way
of living.
Ruby’s house is next to a park.
Living next t
o green space
is something I have always dreamed of.
So now there’s no need
to run up and down stairs
for training (I still do it sometimes).
I run outside
in the fresh air.
Life doesn’t get much
better than this.
Jas times my runs
with baby Tiya on his lap.
Sometimes Mum and Ruby
come and watch.
We are starting to feel
like a proper family again.
It’s everything I ever wanted.
My life feels like
it’s on the right track.
In the school library
I notice a stack of prospectuses
for university.
I use all eight of my tokens
to take them out.
I roll my eyes
I sit in silence.
I answer
Yeah
and
No
and occasionally
I shrug my shoulders.
At least I get to miss maths.
I see Gemma
in the hall.
Both of us alone.
I want to talk to her.
I feel nervous and
scared.
I’m scared of her.
Her rejection.
She walks past.
I smile,
but she’s so used to
looking down,
she doesn’t see.
He’s waiting
at the school gates.
He looks thin,
pale
and broken.
I want to run to him.
Beat him and
hold him tight.
David gently holds me back
and Tara stands in front of me.
My human shield.
I see Beena waiting,
watching from the car.
Dad rubs his eyes,
he looks like he’s been crying.
I’m going to talk to him.
I’ll be OK,
I tell them.
Tara takes my hand.
David and I are going to stand here and watch,
just in case.
I walk towards him.
He seems
so much
smaller now.
Come home,
he croaks.
I can’t.
I’m dying.
No you’re not.
I am.
Can’t you see?
My soul is dying.
Look at me,
look how I shake.
Maybe you should drink less alcohol.
His head hangs low.
Don’t come here again.
Mum said I can call the police.
I will next time.
He nods.