Page 16 of Daughter of a Monster

“Oh, come on now, you know me, you’ve known me for your entire life. How could you say that? I’m still the same person I’ve always been.”

I almost choke on the repulsion that rises at the back of my throat. “You lied to me. You lied for years. You’re a monster. Do you think I can just ignore that?”

“Surely you don’t believe everything you’ve—”

“You were convicted!” I shout, earning myself a warning glare from the officer watching from the doorway. “You sold women as though they were nothing more than fucking cattle,” I hiss.

He tuts and shakes his head. “Foul language doesn’t suit you. And I suppose your mother was the one who told you all that nonsense, yes?”

“Don’t talk about my mother. You have no right to—”

“I loved her. I still love her. I gave her a good life. She was happy.”

My stomach twists. Bile rises in my throat. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“You’re being a little overly dramatic, aren’t you? You’ve been brainwashed. I’m the same person who used to—”

“Stop! Just stop.” My heart beats wildly. “I didn’t come here to listen to your excuses or for you to try and tell me you’re a good man. Do you know the shit I’ve had to deal with because of you? Can you even imagine what it was like finding out that you were my father at the same time I discovered who you really are, what you are?”

He stares at me, almost sympathetically, as though I’m having some sort of hysterical overreaction. It makes my blood boil.

“Do you know what it’s been like for me? I had to move to a completely new city just to get away from being known as your daughter. But even that wasn’t far enough.” My voice lowers as emotion overtakes me. “Now, people know who I am here too. They talk about you, ask about you, ask if I knew.”

There’s a smirk on his face.

“You’re getting off on this, about people talking about you, aren’t you?” I lean forward. “They ask if you ever touched me. Perfect strangers and they think because of what you did, that they can ask me questions like that.”

“I never laid a finger on you. What sort of people would think these disgusting things?”

“They’re disgusting? What about all the things you actually did?”

“You’ve got it all wr—”

“And then getting shot!” My volume earns me another glare from the officer. This time she raises a finger. One. I guess that’s my first warning. I wonder how many I get. Then I laugh.

My father looks at me as though I’m unhinged. And maybe I am. It was a stupid idea coming here. I don’t know what I thought it would accomplish. Closure maybe? Answers to questions I didn’t even know I had?

“I was in the hospital for days, did you know that?” I say, my voice lower. I know he knows it. He knows it the same way I do. Because someone told me. My memory of that time, of that day, has been blocked out. Another blessing from my fucked-up brain.

He makes this scoffing sound. “Surprisingly, I was distracted at the time. Having the police storm your house and arrest you does that.” He has the audacity to sound offended, like I should feel sorry for him. “If that girl had only—”

“Stop it. Just stop it.” My anxiety is replaced with anger. It burns. I shouldn’t have come here. I should leave. “Stop talking as though it’s anyone else’s fault but your own. You may as well have been the one who shot me.”

He rolls his eyes then drums his fingers on the table. “He’s sorry for that, you know.”

“Don’t talk to me about him.”

“He never meant to hurt you. Your brother was unstable.”

“Don’t call him that.”

“What? Your brother? He is your brother.”

“No. My brother is the man who raised me. My brother is the one who cared for me, loved me because you took my mother away from us.”

“And where is he now, huh?” My father leans forward. “I know you haven’t seen any of your other family in months. Maybe you don’t feel like you belong with them. Maybe deep down, you know you’re one of us.”

Tears spring to my eyes and my head starts to shake. “I’m nothing like you. Nothing!”

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