My name is Juliet. I grew up in what I could call hell. My mom and dad were the best of enemies.
My father is the son of a lawyer and he loves to exercise his authority as the man and the head of the home. My mum happens to be the daughter of a very rich politician who was a client to my grandfather.
Several times I’ve heard irritating words like “My mother coerced me into marrying you. I had someone I loved with all my heart before I was pushed by my selfish father to marry a spoilt, arrogant and good for nothing you.” from my father while I was growing up.
“If you think you are a man, you are deceiving yourself… your poor parents were living on my father….. I wish you were there to see how your mum practically knelt down, begging me to marry a hopeless you….. I make more money in this house and you still want to exercise some sort of
authority…..how dare you to question me on what I do with my money……” and several other smelly words were my mother’s anthem.
Several times, my mum had taken me away from the house to go on holiday home and abroad without my father’s consent. In my own little knowledge as a kid, my father tried a little to make things work. He tried to put up with my arrogant mum but my mum was just too complacent to see the need to make the marriage something worthwhile.
My mum would always give the threat to divorce my father. This fateful day, my mum and I just came back from a summer holiday from London only to meet a strange woman in our house.
My mum wouldn’t ask any question, she went to the lady and started beating her. My father came to the scene and out of anger, beat the hell out of my mum. That day was terrible. I stood in a corner of the house crying, I tried to block my hears from the dreadful noise from my parents.
“You infidel! you have the gut to bring a slut into the house I built with my money and you still lay
that your filthy hands on me…..you will regret this for the rest of your life…..” My mother cried.
“Oh, come off it! why do you talk as if this whole house was built with your filthy money alone? I also have contributions into this whole thing…..those bloody money you get from your corrupted father is what you brag about? You are a misery……” My father growled.
“Hurrgh, you the most miserable person I’ve
ever seen in my entire life…..the money you called bloody is what fed your wretched parents, it is what they used to send you to the mushroom schools you went…..it is what I used to pay bills in this house including feeding and clothing you, miser!” My mother groaned. My father landed a heavy blow on her, she fell on the floor trying to get her bearing. I cried aloud in empathy for my mother.
“You called me a miser? I will show you that I am a MAN today…..I will kill you with my bare hands and the worst your rich father can do is to send me to jail….. I’m ready to die after killing you…..just can’t take you to insult me and my family any longer” My father roared.
He beat my mum till blood was coming out of her nose. My mother struggled helplessly on the floor.
When my father was satisfied beating her, he left the house. All I could do was cry.
My mother forwarded a call to her parents and in no time, my mum and I were rushed out of the house and she was being treated by our family doctor for days before she could be okay.
That terrible incidence led to the divorce of my parents. My father packed out of our house and I was to remain in the custody of my mum until I’m able to make a decision of who to be with.
That was how I started my life journey alone with my mum.
My mum was always reminding me of how miserable my father was and was always telling me things like “you are holding that knife just the way your father used to hold knives…..you talk like your father…..stop blinking your eyes just
like your father….” and things like that. It was always annoying to hear things like that.
My mum never bothered to look for love anywhere, she was satisfied with raising me up alone and being a single mother was the best thing for her.
She could not cope with the dreadful thing called marriage, she would rather be her own boss rather than allowing one man that is a nobody to boss her around.
My story started when I was reaching the age of puberty. I took something from my mum, it is arrogance.
To be continued!
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