Broken Fairytale

by Nikola Jensen

  Dinner ends with everyone and everything intact for once. I take a deep breath, a breath I feel like I’ve held since we sat down; my insides finally cease to shake. Dad retires to his office as usual while Mum and I clear up.

  Once we’ve loaded the dishwasher and the kitchen is again restored to the OCD state of cleanliness Mum wants it, I go to my room and change into my sleep shirt and shorts before grabbing my kindle. If I don’t join them in the lounge, I know I’ll hear Dad yelling for me in a minute to declare family time. His definition of family time is very different to anyone else’s.

  Mum and Dad are already in there. Dad’s watching TV, Mum’s knitting so I go and curl up on the chair in the corner of the lounge. Nothing changes; this has been the pattern for as long as I can remember. Not a word is said, all I can hear is Dad’s crime thriller and Mum’s knitting needles clicking. I get lost in my book. Actually, I’ve been lost in a book since I was five years old. It has and always will be my escapism. I get completely lost in the fictional lives of others, escaping from my own life for hours at a time. Dreaming of what could be if my life was different, living in a fantasy world. Dad’s programme ends which signals time for bed. Family time’s officially over. The exact opposite of quality time really but I’m not complaining. I suppose in my world quality time is synonymous with no pain, so I’ll take it. I say goodnight and go to my room climbing in under the duvet. Tonight, for the first time since the accident I don’t read in bed. Instead I touch my lips and think of Declan until I fall asleep with a smile on my face.

  Chapter Three

  I wake up feeling great; I remember dreaming of Declan last night. My happiness lasts for about five minutes until I hear them. It’s Saturday and I know this is going to last all day. They’ll be screaming and at each other’s throats, Dad vicious with it and Mum will be trying to please and pacify. I can’t wait till I have enough money to leave. It breaks my heart that I had enough once. Then after the accident I had to spend it all, trying to pay my way, feeling under obligation and love, to stay and look after Mum.

  I’m determined that today’s all about finding a new job. I haven’t worked in eighteen months and I’m beyond ready now, I need to get out of this house. It’s pathetic that I’m in this position, but it was out of my control. My hands were tied.

  I get out of bed and sneak to the bathroom to shower and get ready. It’s a warm day today, unusually so for September, so I decide to put a dress and summer sandals on. I leave my hair down and put a bit of make-up on. This way I’m ready for my job hunt and that important first impression, which yes, I clearly sucked at yesterday, but am determined not to repeat today.

  I try to leave the house without anyone noticing, I don’t want to get caught up in what’s currently going on in the kitchen, not today, not ever if I can help it. Not again.

  Taking the bus into town with my CV’s burning a hole in my bag I look for notices of help wanted as well as pop into a few Recruitment Agencies. By the time I’m done I’m absolutely shattered and my face hurts from the forced smiles.

  I walk to the nearest coffee shop and buy a sandwich and a drink. Instead of eating it here I decide to walk to the park, finding a nice shady spot to eat my lunch while reading my new book. I’m startled awake when I feel something annoying me on my nose, I hadn’t realised I’d fallen asleep.

  When I open my eyes, I see a grinning Aiden, down on his hunches tickling me with some grass.

  “Hey gorgeous, sleeping in parks is dangerous you know, anything could happen, you could wake up being ravaged by a savage beast looking like you do.”

  I smile at him and roll my eyes at his remark. “I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep. What are you doing here?” I ask him as he lies down next to me, stretching out, closing his eyes all content, like a cat.

  “I’ve been at work since seven am this morning. I had the early breakfast shift at the restaurant I work in at weekends so I’m going to go home, have a shower and a snooze,” he says. “I don’t live far from here, in a shared house just on the other side of the park. I share it with my two mates, so I was nearly there when I saw you drooling in the grass.”

  I smack Aiden in the shoulder and go all Miss Marple on his arse asking him all sorts of questions; there’s something about him that I instantly love. We lie in the grass talking for what seems like hours about nothing and everything. I think he reminds me of my brother, not to look at, but his personality. And even though this makes me sad, it’s also comforting in a way.

  Aiden tells me that he moved into the house with his mates who he’s known most of his life and that the three of them are in a band called ‘The Standards’. They still play for fun but know it’s not something they can make a living out of.

  “Will you ever try and take it to the next level up from pubs and clubs?” I ask him.

  “Nah that ship sailed a long time ago,” Aiden laughs, but I hear a hint of regret in his voice and his smile fades.

  Apparently there’s still a spare room waiting to be filled in their house as the last guy graduated from Uni this summer. They’ve decided they need a girl so the house doesn’t fall into depths of grime and disorder. I smack him on his shoulder again for the sexist comment but can’t help laughing.

  “So, are you looking to leave home, and willing to come be our domestic goddess?” he teases with a grin on his face.

  “Seriously Aiden?” I feign a look of disgust.

  “As fun as that sounds I’d love to, but I can’t afford rent right now…I lost my job eighteen months ago and am trying to find a new one.”

  He gives me a penetrating look so I start to awkwardly pick at the grass not knowing what to say next. I’m guessing he can read the shame and anxiety that’s written all over my face. Aiden suddenly puts his hand in mine and changes the subject. Yep he got it.

  “Right, so tonight I’m going to the pub with the boys, fancy coming along?”

  I haven’t been on a night out in ages. Not since Sofia moved abroad on a foreign exchange programme to teach. Shit, I miss her so much it hurts, not only for the nights out, I miss her in every way I had her, I just miss my best friend. I force a smile on my face, I’m good at those.

  “Sounds good, what time shall I meet you?”

  Aiden stands up and gets ready to walk off. “Meet me around eight-ish on the corner of Brook Street and we’ll walk there together.”

  I stand up and give him a brief hug to say thank you. Looking at his back I can’t help but smile because I know that Aiden’s a decent person and I’ve found someone who could most definitely become a good friend. On the bus home, I start to think about what Aiden said about the room that’s standing empty. I’d love to move out from Dad’s clutches so I mentally calculate what I’ve got in savings and what I’d get if I hear back from some of the places I went to today.

  I think I could just about do it but it leaves nothing for a car. To be honest I actually think I seriously want to do this. Sod the car, the bus works just fine and it’s in the centre of town so I can walk most places. Shit, I’m going to do this. I’m an adult, of course I can. I prepare myself for the reaction when I tell Dad, it’ll be completely different to Mum’s, I know, but I can’t feel responsible for her anymore. They thought moving to a new part of the country would erase the memories, maybe it’s worked for Dad but it sure as hell hasn’t worked for Mum or me.

  As I open the door to the house I’m met with silence. I walk straight to my room and gather everything I own, hoping Aiden meant it and that I’m not taking liberties; that I can actually have the room going spare. I also hope the other blokes don’t mind that it’s me who takes it.

  I don’t want to waste any more time, who knows how much I have. I haven’t got a lot to pack though, most of it got burnt in the fire. I shudder involuntarily and feel like I want to throw up. Every memory from that night brings along the smells, screams and feelings. It makes me feel weak and that is one thing I don’t want to feel anymore. I need
to take charge of my life and sever the hold Dad has on me. Feeling a sense of self-empowerment, I begin to pack. Despite feeling strong, a part of me is still cowering, making me feel nervous and scared of the consequences of what I’m about to do.

  Two bags and lots of psyching myself up later I walk to the kitchen. Mum’s in there cooking dinner. She’s all dressed up, her hairs coiffed to perfection, her make-up perfectly applied to match. I’ve got no idea why she feels like she needs to do this. But this is what she does; she knows it’s what Dad expects and she knows the verbal abuse that’ll undoubtedly follow if she falls below his standards.

  Thinking back it all began when he became this hot shot at work. Suddenly his family didn’t look right; I guess he didn’t think we fit into his new life. Dad set about re-modelling us, re-inventing us into something acceptable to him and this new image he wanted to uphold.

  “Mum,” I hesitantly call out. “Is Dad home? There’s something I need to tell you both.”

  Mum turns around and looks at me fear in her eyes as they begin to well up with tears.

  “You’re leaving aren’t you, leaving me alone with him?” she whispers while clutching at her apron with shaking hands. This must be where I get my fidgety hands from I think to myself, staring at them whilst mine do the same. This is huge and every bit of me knows it.

  “Well I knew the day would come Izobel but I don’t want to be in the same room when you tell him, I don’t want to see his reaction.”

  As she turns back to the cooking she mutters about loss and her broken heart. Mine is breaking too and it hurts that she doesn’t realise this. I’ve no idea how to reach her and I feel an immense sense of guilt, even if I know this is the right decision for me.

  “Mum, you should leave too you know, it’s not healthy, especially with what happened,” I try and get through to her, my reasons for leaving.

  “Too late for me.” She shakes her head avoiding any eye contact. “I wouldn’t know how Izobel, it’s been too long and I haven’t got the energy. I’m so tired.”

  She suddenly turns around and looks me straight in the eyes before surprisingly enveloping me in a tight embrace as though she’s changed her mind. As if she saw something in my eyes. In a way I hope she did, I hope she sees the pain and guilt that’s eating at my insides every time I leave the house; leaving her alone with him.

  Pulling herself together she nods in the direction of Dad’s office. “Go on darling girl.” She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze before letting it go. “Good luck my love.” Her back slumps as if the world is once again resting on it and turns, getting back to the cooking. Gathering my strength I close my eyes and stay here pulling myself together and trying to set aside this emotional moment.

  As I walk out of the kitchen I feel like I’m walking the green mile. As Dad’s office gets closer and closer I fill with a sense of dread. My hands feel clammy and my head starts to hurt. My heart is pounding as if high on caffeine. I knock on his office door and open it slightly.

  “Sorry to disturb you Dad, is it okay if I come in? I need to talk to you about something…run something by you I mean.”

  Dad grunts and motions me in with his hand. On shaking legs I walk over to his desk and marvel once again at how huge and imposing he is despite sitting down. His physique coupled with his piercing eyes has always filled me with fear and apprehension. It should have made me feel safe growing up but ironically, it didn’t. Dad looks at me over his glasses and puts his papers down, his eyes immediately narrowing in anticipation, yet he says nothing. He doesn’t even ask me what I want; it’s as if he already knows what’s coming.

  “I think it’s about time for me to move out Dad, I need to be closer to Uni and umm…work and stuff.” Bollocks, why does my brain disconnect from my mouth every time I try to speak to him? Why does my nerve always fail me when I most need it? Dad’s expression doesn’t change much except his frown lines get deeper and he looks down at me with a scowl.

  “Can you afford that Izobel, because I’m not helping you fund a move. I told you the minute you turned eighteen and became an adult, you had to make your own way.”

  Of course he isn’t, he could though, it’d be nothing to him, small change. But then I don’t want his money anyway because it binds me to him even more, which I definitely don’t want.

  He steps out from behind his desk and my walls instantly come up. Crossing my arms, I shrink and feel myself going numb and rigid already. He walks straight past me though and down the hallway towards the kitchen. I’ve got no idea what’s just happened here. I feel dizzy. This isn’t the reaction I was expecting. I return to my bedroom, sit down on my bed trying to catch my breath. The anxiety has caused an adrenaline spike and my body begins to shake. Taking deep breaths I realise looking around my room that you wouldn’t even know this room was lived in. I guess we haven’t really been in this house long enough for me to personalize it with accessories and posters, maybe I knew subconsciously I wouldn’t be here long.

  “Izobel, dinner’s ready, can you come sit down please.” I hear my Mum yell.

  I pull myself together and go join them in the kitchen. Dad and Mum are already sitting down waiting for me. I take my seat and begin to eat as expected, despite not feeling hungry at all. I can feel the food growing in my mouth with every bite. I’m unable to swallow, the food suffocating me and stifling my breathing. Even though I keep my eyes on my plate, I can feel the burning of his on me throughout the meal. I’m scared to look up. My crossed legs are shaking. My foot taping the floor incessantly. There’s no doubt that Mum’s trying to diffuse the tension by making small talk with Dad, I realise what she’s trying to do. Dad’s going on yet another business trip it seems. He goes on these a lot. Deep down I’m sure Mum knows there’s more to these but is afraid to voice her suspicion. Voicing it makes it real and there’ll be no going back then. Ignorance is bliss and all that bollocks.

  Listening to this suddenly makes me angry. I can’t understand why but all of a sudden, I have this urge to poke the lion that’s ready to roar. I want to lay it all out there, I want to take a chance, no time like the present. So I swallow and take a deep breath…

  “I’m going out tonight with a friend I’ve met at Uni and hopefully I’ll be able to sort out my accommodation at the same time. They’ve got a room standing empty, so if it all works out, I’ll move out tomorrow. Oh and this works really well because that way I’m ready for when lectures begin on Monday.”

  I pause as I’ve run out of breath. I feel lightheaded and I can see black spots forming at the corner of my eyes. Before I get to say anything else Dad’s cutlery drops with a loud clang on his half-empty plate, managing to splatter his dinner all over the pristine white linen table cloth quickly bleeding into the fabric like an ugly growing stain. Mum and I freeze and I mentally berate myself, I should’ve known better. I automatically cower as the loud buzzing starts in my ears. I’ve got no idea what Dad’s shouting, my ears feel like they’re stuffed full of cotton balls. I think I hear ungrateful, just as I feel the sting of his hand, then the numbness, followed by a loud rushing sound in my ear, almost like that sound you get when you go to the beach and put a seashell up to your ear. They say it sounds like the waves of the ocean, but to me, it’s merely the white noise of despair and pain. Another hit quickly follows, this one catching the corner of my eye which immediately starts welling up not only with tears but also something hot and sticky. I’m guessing his wedding ring caught me again. A wedding ring that symbolises so much more than its true meaning.

  I stand up swaying and feel the room spinning from the pain and lack of oxygen as I half-run to my room. I’m shaking uncontrollably but rather than feeling knocked down I suddenly feel something snapping inside me. As though I’ve been wound up so tight, like one of those brown elastic bands, which in the end snaps with a sting. Everything implodes. Standing in front of the mirror looking at what he did, I open a pack of baby wipes and try to clean up my face. This time needi
ng them to remove more than make-up. As I clean myself up I realise that only I can end this. I need to be the strong one. I can’t rely on anyone else, on him changing, or even on Mum leaving. I need to save myself.

  Picking up my cases I walk out of the front door without a parting word or even looking back at what I’m leaving behind. I know full well what I’m leaving behind and it’s been a long time coming. I’m trying to set myself free.

  There’s still over half an hour till I have to meet Aiden so I walk slowly to the park, enjoying the feeling of breathing without the invisible restraint, and go to sit down on a bench. My arms feel sore from the strain of my cases but I welcome the pain because of how I got it. I pull out a mirror from my bag and wince at the cut on my face. How the hell do I explain this to Aiden? I dab some concealer on the cut and the worst of the bruise hoping he won’t realise what caused it. I’m a good liar but this time I can’t hide it.

  The efforts of leaving suddenly overwhelm me, making me feel exhausted as I slouch into a comfortable position. The park is still lush and green; the Indian summer has brought all the families out, playing games, couples laying in the grass showing each other affection. So much togetherness surrounding me. I swallow the lump in my throat. I miss my brother, I miss Sofia, I miss normal. Perhaps it’s coming; perhaps I just took that first all important step. I suddenly see Aiden crouched in front of me by the bench.