Status: Complete X
Her Father's Lies
Her Father's Lies
She stumbled into the room, her shoulders hitting the cold, hard wall. The news of which she discovered that her beloved father had done weakening her. It was true. Everything that her mother’s family had been telling her was true. Everything she had overheard.
“He’s a good for nothing imbecile. I don’t know why you want to get back in contact with him”
“It’s for Sylvie. You know how she loves Darren.”
“He was an idiot, he nearly destroyed you, Denise.” Her grandmother had been overheard by Sylvie when she was 7.
“If I was with him for two minutes, he’d be dead and the world would’ve been a better place.”
How could he do it? How could someone who told her every time that he loved her and that he’s always be there for her, while poisoning her mind with lies against her mother and stepfather, do that to her? Cruel, malicious lies that were there to destroy realtionahips. Lying to her and saying that he was the one who’d been hurt by them. He was the innocent one. It was his little girl who had been taken away from him. His lies had already destroyed the already fragile bond between herself and her mother.
Oh god, her stepfather Her stepfather such a good man. He was patient and kind man, whilst Sylvie used to bitch and torment them. He had made her mother so happy and all she could think was how he allegedly took Mum away from Dad. But, in fact he was rescuing her. He was the reason she started smiling again
Sylvie’s shoulders shook violently and her back slid down the filthy wall as the full force of everything she overheard came back to her. She felt her stomach heaving and tried to take several, big breaths, determined to remain calm. Her father disgusted her. It was his revenge, he’d said smiling widely as he saw her mouth drop open and whimper. She now began to feel sick, whenever she thought of him now.
She should’ve believed them. Her mother had tried to explain it to her in her quiet way. Her stepfather was calm whenever she rebelled against them, especially him. The tears were sliding down her creamy, soft cheeks faster now . The mascara tipped eyelashes each had a tiny tear drop upon them , each tear drop telling a sad, sorry story. The revolt she felt. Betrayal. Her Naiveté. She pressed her eyelids harder. The tears streaking down harder leaving tracks. The colours contrasting against the pale white of her skin. The black mascara tracks could’ve been interpreted as an artist brush strokes against a stark white canvas.
But no, all she could think about was how her Dad had been done wrong. How her Mum had deceived him, thought Sylvie.The tears continue to slip out of Sylvie’s crystal blue eyes more urgently. The same blue eyes which she inherited from her father. The same eyes that could charm other people and entrap them into his cruel lies. She felt sick. How could someone do this to their own daughter? Their own daughter, who was a part of them.
Sylvie stood up suddenly, wiping the tears off her face with an urgency, her hands smoothing down her dishevelled clothes, her hands lingering on the bracelet that was entwined on her wrist. Her 16th birthday gift from her Dad. No, he was not Dad anymore. He isn’t worthy of the title. He’s Andrew Allen. Her face was now an expression of revolt and distaste as she started pulling on the silver, chain linked bracelet. The chains leaving red marks upon her skin in her haste to remove them.
She was so proud when she received the gift. Yeah, sure it was a month late, but at least she’s received something from her Dad and he had mentioned that he was travelling around the country to get work. Her happiness radiated from her that day when she received it.
She’d felt secure and loved. That her dad hasn’t forgotten her . That even though her Dad wasn’t near her, he still remembered her and thought about her. Not like the stories she heard from her other classmates at school. The ones who had been emotionally abandoned by their parents and been physically abused by them.
Her fingers shook as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and switched it on, to be greeted by text messages from her mother, asking her if she was safe and when she was coming home.
Her hands shook as she typed a messages back, her heart heavy as she realized that the same woman who had been the personal punch-bag of a violent man. She should’ve been an emotionally hard person, if she was someone else, she could’ve taken it out on me. But the motherly love was all she had ever know from Denise. Never did she hear scorn or revolt from her mother. Well, only when she rebelled against her.
She scrolled down the list of contacts on her phone and reached a number. Tyler Mathewson. The one person she could trust. She waited impatiently as waited for the call to connect and upon hearing the calm melodic voice did she finally calm down.
“Tyler , I need you to do something” Sylvie quiet voice was a change from the bright, perky girl of yesterday
“I need you to promise me that you’ll never betray me. That you’ll never sell me out . That ….that you’ll always be there for me.” her quiet voice shook with tears, as her mind kept on flashing black to the taste she felt in her mouth when she discovered her father’s lies. The distaste in her mouth.
“Sure, Sylvie. There’s no question about it. But…what happened, why have you-” he was broken of by the sob of the distressed girl, her sobs, piercing him.
“I’ll explain it all when I’m ready.”
“Bye, Tyler” she quickly disconnected the call, switching it off.
Her heart ached as she contemplated what was to happen next. The word promise meant to assure somebody that something will certainly happen or will be done. Should she trust Tyler? After all she did that with Andrew Allen and all it every gave her was heartbreak and destroyed her dreams of her perfect dad.
No, she decided. Promises aren’t there to be broken. They’re there to be fulfilled and that is what she would do. She would make sure anyone who made a promises to her would fulfil it.
What ever it took.
“He’s a good for nothing imbecile. I don’t know why you want to get back in contact with him”
“It’s for Sylvie. You know how she loves Darren.”
“He was an idiot, he nearly destroyed you, Denise.” Her grandmother had been overheard by Sylvie when she was 7.
“If I was with him for two minutes, he’d be dead and the world would’ve been a better place.”
How could he do it? How could someone who told her every time that he loved her and that he’s always be there for her, while poisoning her mind with lies against her mother and stepfather, do that to her? Cruel, malicious lies that were there to destroy realtionahips. Lying to her and saying that he was the one who’d been hurt by them. He was the innocent one. It was his little girl who had been taken away from him. His lies had already destroyed the already fragile bond between herself and her mother.
Oh god, her stepfather Her stepfather such a good man. He was patient and kind man, whilst Sylvie used to bitch and torment them. He had made her mother so happy and all she could think was how he allegedly took Mum away from Dad. But, in fact he was rescuing her. He was the reason she started smiling again
Sylvie’s shoulders shook violently and her back slid down the filthy wall as the full force of everything she overheard came back to her. She felt her stomach heaving and tried to take several, big breaths, determined to remain calm. Her father disgusted her. It was his revenge, he’d said smiling widely as he saw her mouth drop open and whimper. She now began to feel sick, whenever she thought of him now.
She should’ve believed them. Her mother had tried to explain it to her in her quiet way. Her stepfather was calm whenever she rebelled against them, especially him. The tears were sliding down her creamy, soft cheeks faster now . The mascara tipped eyelashes each had a tiny tear drop upon them , each tear drop telling a sad, sorry story. The revolt she felt. Betrayal. Her Naiveté. She pressed her eyelids harder. The tears streaking down harder leaving tracks. The colours contrasting against the pale white of her skin. The black mascara tracks could’ve been interpreted as an artist brush strokes against a stark white canvas.
But no, all she could think about was how her Dad had been done wrong. How her Mum had deceived him, thought Sylvie.The tears continue to slip out of Sylvie’s crystal blue eyes more urgently. The same blue eyes which she inherited from her father. The same eyes that could charm other people and entrap them into his cruel lies. She felt sick. How could someone do this to their own daughter? Their own daughter, who was a part of them.
Sylvie stood up suddenly, wiping the tears off her face with an urgency, her hands smoothing down her dishevelled clothes, her hands lingering on the bracelet that was entwined on her wrist. Her 16th birthday gift from her Dad. No, he was not Dad anymore. He isn’t worthy of the title. He’s Andrew Allen. Her face was now an expression of revolt and distaste as she started pulling on the silver, chain linked bracelet. The chains leaving red marks upon her skin in her haste to remove them.
She was so proud when she received the gift. Yeah, sure it was a month late, but at least she’s received something from her Dad and he had mentioned that he was travelling around the country to get work. Her happiness radiated from her that day when she received it.
She’d felt secure and loved. That her dad hasn’t forgotten her . That even though her Dad wasn’t near her, he still remembered her and thought about her. Not like the stories she heard from her other classmates at school. The ones who had been emotionally abandoned by their parents and been physically abused by them.
Her fingers shook as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and switched it on, to be greeted by text messages from her mother, asking her if she was safe and when she was coming home.
Her hands shook as she typed a messages back, her heart heavy as she realized that the same woman who had been the personal punch-bag of a violent man. She should’ve been an emotionally hard person, if she was someone else, she could’ve taken it out on me. But the motherly love was all she had ever know from Denise. Never did she hear scorn or revolt from her mother. Well, only when she rebelled against her.
She scrolled down the list of contacts on her phone and reached a number. Tyler Mathewson. The one person she could trust. She waited impatiently as waited for the call to connect and upon hearing the calm melodic voice did she finally calm down.
“Tyler , I need you to do something” Sylvie quiet voice was a change from the bright, perky girl of yesterday
“I need you to promise me that you’ll never betray me. That you’ll never sell me out . That ….that you’ll always be there for me.” her quiet voice shook with tears, as her mind kept on flashing black to the taste she felt in her mouth when she discovered her father’s lies. The distaste in her mouth.
“Sure, Sylvie. There’s no question about it. But…what happened, why have you-” he was broken of by the sob of the distressed girl, her sobs, piercing him.
“I’ll explain it all when I’m ready.”
“Bye, Tyler” she quickly disconnected the call, switching it off.
Her heart ached as she contemplated what was to happen next. The word promise meant to assure somebody that something will certainly happen or will be done. Should she trust Tyler? After all she did that with Andrew Allen and all it every gave her was heartbreak and destroyed her dreams of her perfect dad.
No, she decided. Promises aren’t there to be broken. They’re there to be fulfilled and that is what she would do. She would make sure anyone who made a promises to her would fulfil it.
What ever it took.
♠ ♠ ♠
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