Unearthing The Truth

• Kristy-lee Jons, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2009

My stomach grumbled. I looked at my watch. It was past noon and I had made little progress in my attempts to put order into the dusty, cluttered attic. I needed a break I resolved to return after lunch, however as I stood up a small box caught my eye.

I suddenly lost my appetite. When Dad passed away four years ago my sister gathered together a few of his possessions into this old Heineken box. The pain flooded back as I thought of the father I missed dearly. Dad had a ‘big grey hairy beard’ and was the most affectionate person one could meet. At the bottom of the box, was an envelope addressed to Dad in what oddly looked like my sister’s writing. Without hesitation I opened the letter and started to read.

Dear Dad
It surprised me, after so many years of wanting nothing to do with you, that I wanted to help when I first heard that you had cancer. I tried to find a way to keep you alive long enough for me to say what I needed to. It didn’t take me long to realize that after years of us not talking I still hoped that you would admit to sexually abusing me; that you would finally admit to yourself that your actions had led to our conflict with each other.

‘I know that an abusive family is like a boulder landing on a glass of water. Even if you succeed at lifting the boulder what is left to drink?’ (1) I always knew you would never accept the reality, and that I would never again speak to you. Despite hearing of your cancer I was still angry and disgusted by how you chose to maintain a cover of ‘respectability’ at all costs. Even if it meant the loss of any relationship with me! Why is it that you couldn’t step out from your comfort of denial?

I am anxious about the simplest, insignificant things in life. People see me as a selfish, lonely person all because I don’t open up to those around me. I am ashamed of my past, our past. Did you ever consider how worthless you made me feel? I have no resilience and the smallest problems in life push me into a depressing low. Dad, I am 24 and half the time I don’t know why I react to situations the way I do. I do know that it somehow has to be you that has caused me to be this way. I have no trust in people, let alone trust in myself but I learned strength from surviving you.

I’m not asking whether you love or miss me, whether you feel miserable or guilty. I’m asking you to hold yourself accountable for the pain you have caused me, the pain you continue to cause me. I don’t think this is too much to ask.

I would be lying if I didn’t say that I would like to see you before you take your last breath but you haven’t made things easy, so please do not contact me unless you become a man and admit to what you have done
Kate

I was speechless. My heart raced as my thoughts flew all over the place. I always knew that something wasn’t right, I just never knew what. Kate had always been daddy’s little girl until one day when everything suddenly changed. I just thought that it was a stage she was going through but then she didn’t come to Dad’s funeral or say goodbye.

It explains a lot. Kate use to frustrate me because the smallest things would cause her to burst into tears. I used to just think she was an emotional person who in her nature took things to heart. Now I know that there is so much more behind her antagonism and that the disgusting experiences led to the fractured relationship she had with Dad. It explains why Kate curses injustice.

I felt sick to my stomach! I sat with the letter in my hand as tears ran down my face. I could taste the saltiness as they edged near my mouth. Instinctively I pulled out my phone and dialed Kate. Before giving her a chance to greet me I sobbed into the phone, ‘I’m sorry’.