You look good.
A slightly deep voice entered my ears. I looked behind me to see a pair of dull brown eyes that gently gazed at me.
"Thank you. Father." I curtly replied.
Turning back to the mirror I pulled my black bow down as the white linen shirt contrasted it. Straightening my hands sideways, I gestured my father. He pulled the black blazer out of the cover and with slight caution put it on me from behind. I met father's eyes through the mirror and asked him again, "How do I look?"
I looked at the gentle but firm eyes that even at such an age were filled with resolve to brim. Darkest blue tuxedo, he wore made him stand out more than me even on such a day. The black beard with some whites scattered made him look pragmatic.
His eyes though moist failed to squeeze out even a single drop of tear. That alone could make anyone look and appreciate his conviction. I had always idolized him. His approval had been the only thing that I have ever sought after.
The disgruntled look on his face as made efforts to not shed a tear made me remember the last night. Remembering last night, a small vein bulged on my forehead, my fists clenched.
"Raphael, you have done very good for yourself. I can see you have turned out to be a fine man." He said without a single crease or minuscule of emotion on his beautiful face.
I was in the middle of my packing, when a tall domineering shadow fell on me through the doorway. It made me loose my grip on all the neatly folded clothes down on the cold metallic floor.
But the surprise that I felt when his registered my mind was even more ethereal. The stone of a man that I called father praised me. HE PRAISED ME.
I was too shocked to even speak. As If this was not enough, he then nuked me with something bigger.
"I am... amm---" He stuttered. This man never stuttered.
Samuel Joffre was an existence that could even give a speech in sleep.
He stuttered.
My heart started pumping crazily. If it had not been for the bed beside supporting me. I would have fell a hundred times over. My noodles for legs somehow didn't betray me.
"I am proud of you."
Now you have done it.
I could not take it anymore. My previously loyal legs turned traitors as I felt the land beneath my legs slide. I fell onto the bed.
All this time I was standing with my back facing him. I wanted to look into his eyes. I wanted to look at his proud face when he said that. I turned my head; my hands lifted my body up from the soft quilt. I flicked my head backwards in haste. But the only thing that greeted my pathetic face was an empty, dark, cold room. That man had left.
That man...
My Father.
For fifteen years, I worked and studied as if my life depended on it. For fifteen years, I worked my ass off all alone, all day.
He never came home during the day. So, I would study till late night under a guise; Just to see his face. The face of my only family.
My father.
But soon I understood that the smile and appreciation that I desperately crave and seek for had left this world along with my mother. Never to come back again.
I wanted to confront him. I wanted to tell it straight to his face that he had to give me time. That he was my parent not just someone who paid his school fees and gave him a house to live in. I also wanted to know the warmth that one worded Family. I also wanted to feel loved.
But there was a budding fear inside me that would never allow me to do so. That the gap between me an father was too large for any confrontation or talk-of-heart to fill.
So, I carried on with life.
But slowly and gradually, something inside me changed. Something that was happening all these years and had gone my unnoticed. Now, I was not working my ass off for his approval. No.
It was to escape this hell, I called home. It was for myself, and no way would it ever be for that man I called 'Father.' Even if the hell froze over, I swore never to forgive this man.
And now after these seventeen years in hell, he says this. Not even to my face. He didn't have courage to even say it to my face. He had the audacity to do this to his own son after the burning path that I had to walk through.
After an hour, I picked myself up from the now damp bed. I stood up. My feet led me to large mirror symmetrically clamped on the wall. The light spilling out of the half closed curtains bounced off the mirror. My feet stood in front of the mirror. I pulled my head back up to come face-to-face most gruesome creature on the face of earth. With the monster that I had become.
Constant tears that pored endlessly out of my eyelids that left my eyes burning red. Black tear marks heavily splashed all over the eyes. The dried of tears and snot decorated haphazardly all over my face. Mucus dripped down my runny nose.
But that wasn't the feature which would leave one disgusted looking at me.
They were the sparkling white teeth that displayed themselves in full glamour. A big smile plastered on my face. A smile could not have looked more disturbing but so ecstatic at the same time.
If I had seen ever seen the abhorred Satan, it was what the mirror reflected in the lightless and cold room.
I spat. "That piece of shit finally approved of me."
HAHAHA An unfamiliar laugh came out deep from my larynx. But it was pleasure for me all the same.
Now seeing the same man trying to fight off the tears as he was abandoned by his only family, only a single word resounded in my mind. "Cute."
I turned around and gave the man a strong bear hug. He accepted it, although reluctantly.
"Father don't be sad. I am not going to war. I am just going away for studies and will return after some time."
He nodded with his chin on my shoulders. Wiping away the tears behind my back he removed himself from me.
But while doing so, he noticed the smug smile that hung on my face that I failed to conceal. Grunting a bit in annoyance he turned his face away.
"Don't act all smug. Study Hard."
"Hurry let us go now." He dodged the topic.
I let out a small snicker. "Yeah, let us head out."
My bus was scheduled to arrive at six. We reached to stop a little after half fast four courtesies of my father. Knowing him, I naturally obliged, reaching early.
We waited on the stop and motionlessly sat on a bench. Half an hour went by without any of us uttering even a syllable. Afraid that the atmosphere was growing too awkward he finally broke the silence.
Heaving a sigh in. He said, "You know right that I am proud of you right?"
I nodded with a small smile on my face.
"Good." He nodded.
But soon, the silence once again was handed the reins of our vicinity.
After relentless and unsuccessful attempts at small talk, an hour passed. The bus soon arrived.
"Good Luck." He spoke.
I reciprocated with a small nod and a knowing smile.
I got up. Picking my bag up, I slung it around my shoulder. That man had his head lowered. Looking at ground he uttered something utterly blasphemous.
"You know, if your mother was here, she would have been proud too."
I was dumbstruck yet again. My feet felt cemented to the ground. The weight of the bag tipped my balance, I stumbled a bit but soon regained my balance. The blood in my body was running wild. Fists clenched so tight, that the nails dug into my palm drawing blood. Dark red blood trickled down my closed fists.
Even the nature around the isolated bus stop came to a standstill, except for the occasional drops that ruined the white tiles discolouring them red.
It took everything in me to keep myself from exploding.
I took a deep breath in.
Hah...
I turned my back to that...
Animal.
"Ok bye! Father."
I voiced out my the most happy voice and never looked back.
I had accepted that he was my father. He was the man that had brought me into this world. But that was where the line was drawn. He was just an acquaintance. Even after spending more than seventeen years under the same roof. That's all he meant for me.
An acquaintance.
I sat in the bus.
The bus was almost empty. Picking the seat furthest away from the side of the bus stop, I waited patiently for the end of this hellish nightmare. It came soon with the turning on of the bus engine. The bus started moved. I took in a deep breath.
Drops of water splashed down my lap. My tears screaming and pleading to never meet that man again.
He did not call me out again from the bus stop.
Nor did I, him.
I did not wish him luck.
Nor did he... I wish he hadn't.
Shit!
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