mum had told me before that dad hit her in the past. i think i was like 10 maybe? i think i vaguely understood the concept but growing up in a brown household, hearing about how that was the norm between husbands and wives, seeing it on tv shows, listening to conversations where it would be mentioned so casually... i think i took it as a 'it happens only in extreme once-in-a-blue-moon situations' so i didn't let it change my world so much. i got older, yes, and realised that was not normal but she had stayed and he had not done anything like that again so i thought that turmoil was over. i mean, she had even told me that he had slammed me on the bed in a fit of rage when i was 2. i'm convinced i remember that - i don't know if it's real or not but i see it from a third party point of view like in movies. when the characters are so far removed from their own body when they relieve a moment of their lives. but he hadn't hurt me ever again so i doubt he hurt her either, right?
so we lived on. we had family dinners, blew out candles for every birthday every year, went on family holidays and put up the christmas tree. we bought a new tree and decorations this year. me and my sister excitedly put the tree together and started to attach the strings to the baubles. mum and dad were both sitting in utter silence. we asked mum repeatedly to help decorate the tree. she did not oblige. she sat quietly tying the strings to the baubles in perfect, strong knots. we asked her some more to get involved. she didn't. once the main tree was up and we sat to sort out the decoration for the next tree, my sister curiously asked why there was so much tension. my mum replied 'no there isn't' and my sister unsatisfied, enquired more. my mum said it was a conversation to do with her and my brother-in-law, who have their own twisted marital problems. my sister, once again, full of curiosity asked her to come to our room and tell her what had been said and what had occurred. i stayed on the table as i was excited about putting the decorations together. a few minutes later, they return. mum sits down and gets back to the job instantly. my sister bubbling with rage follows and tells me i need to know what happened. i asked why? and she said she is furious and needs me to know. my mum simply starts aggressively commanding us to not say anything or do anything but why is she shouting at us through whispers? what is the big deal? i ask my sister to text me what had happened if she did not want to say it out loud; while she does this, my mum silently utters 'he pushed me.' in an instinct, i turn around to release all the rage that had built up within my body in less than a second and i am aggressively yanked forward. i am told to keep my mouth shut and not disturb the peace.
i take my small christmas tree that i had decided would have a pink and white theme to my bedroom and ask my mum to follow so she can divulge the details. she sits down on the floor with me next to the bare tree that had to be decorated. she says there was a heated conversation and he got angry and pushed her. in the middle of this, my sister leaves to do a therapy task she was given by her couples' counsellor. the task being to have a dinner with her husband undistracted. i ask my mum why i wasn't allowed to react or question anything. she says it won't do anything. i say yes it will. i ask her what kind of example she is setting for me. she stays silent. i say i am going to give him a piece of my mind and she starts to weep saying he will leave to india. i say what does that matter? i'm here. i will provide. she says he will tell her family and her brother will hit her mum. he's done it before. he would do it again. i say we'll get her out too. i say he won't hurt her if knows the full story, which you can explain, mum. she says he won't listen. another man in her life that hurts her. i stare at my christmas tree. she starts to yell at me saying i won't listen and i dont understand. then, in a moment of desperation, she gets down on her knees, touching my feet, begging me to stay. startled and horrified, i yell what the fuck. what the fuck was happening?
now i'm hurt. not in the way she was. not in the way i probably was when i was 2. but in a way that necessitated me leaving. i had to get out. i grab my coat and put my glasses on to leave and she stays on her knees begging me not to go. she gets up and wrestles me to stay. pulling me back. she's stronger than me. everyone i know is stronger than me. i'm unable to leave and she grasps on to me begging me not to leave her alone. the anger in my body and the stone-cold face i had on instantly vanishes. she was scared. she didn't want to be alone with a man who had hurt her. she needed her daughter to protect her. and not in the way i wanted to protect her but in the way she needed me to. i still have a burning desire to berate him but looking at her face weeping, and feeling salty tears in my own mouth, i realise i can't do anything. i am just as weak. but she needs strength so i have to drop my own attitude and hold her back.
she goes back into my room dragging me with her. she sits me down and tells me to decorate the tree like i was so excited to do. she hangs up the pink snowflakes i got and utters that it was her fault too for saying hurtful things to him. she says it was a moment of passion and i can't say anything. she continues to decorate the tree as i stare at the carpet unable to speak or think anything. i just stare at the fibres thinking about how much i hate that damn christmas tree and the decorations and how i didn't want to do that anymore. she tells me to hang some things. i do. we sit in silence as she ties strings to the baubles and i hang them. she tells me i'm doing it wrong and need to focus on the other side. i listen. what else can i do but listen?
we finish. she asks me to look up at her face and that's when i realise my gaze has been fixed upon the carpet for many minutes. she tells me he has his own issues - his mum is sick, his brother is cruel to him, and she added to that by being taunting. i think about how that isn't good enough but she tells me to go sit with him. watch a movie with him. he needs me too. she tells me she has me and my sister to talk to and he has no-one so she can't let me leave him alone. i tell her i won't. she cries at me to keep the peace. it's been so miserable in her these past few weeks, please dont add to that. please let her mother live. i have no emotions anymore. i am stiff all over as she tries to hug me, i am unable to move my mouth as she asks me to promise to never speak to him about this. i stay there petrified until she leaves.
i sit down on my bed unable to cry. unable to talk. unable to hold my phone. unable to do anything. but this needs to be written. i dont know what to do. well i do but i know it'll make my mother hate me. so what's left? what's left of me?
