THERESA's Life Story.

"Dear God, I have come to you this moment to seek your help. Your word says that; ask it shall be given to me, seek that I shall find, knock and the door shall be opened to me. These words are yours and not mine, Please dear Lord, bring peace to my Family. Give my Mom the strength to carry on, change my Dad from bad to go. . ."

"Theresa!" I heard my Dad yell my name from the living room. I hate being interrupted.

I concluded my prayer in a hurry, did the sign of the cross, and immediately dashed out of my room to obey my father's call.

Mr. Grignard Lawson is my Father's name. He has strange eyes- a clear, pale brown, like Amber from the tall forests across the sea. His skin is a matte deepness of black, he has a shiny goatee, dark bristly mustache. He has a devil-may-care outlook and a stellar smile, a deep voice. He is as tall as a giraffe and as wicked as a witch. Yes I said that

Our living room has a peculiar shape. A black and white fitted tile has covered the whole room. There's a flat television screen, 40inches. The TV is placed carefully on the wall facing the entrance. There is a shelf with six drawers below the TV position. The shelves are in tempered glass. The color is black. On the shelves, there are CDs of any existing kind of CD's as well as speakers and DVD players.

On the bottom of the wall facing west, there is a glass door cabinet. The cabinet is in tinted solid spruce. The raw material that has been used for the cabinet is strawberries' tree's wood. The color is dark brown and it is equipped with eight shelves. On top of them, there are mainly glasses as well as two tee's services in porcelain.

In the center of the room, there is a painted finish white coffee table. The top is in glass with the corners reinforced in wood. The bottom part is wood. The table is pretty short, as it has to go on a level with the sofa.

The sofa is divided into three sections that can be moved around to create a suitable combination. Its white cover is removable. The sofa is a hundred percent cotton. Its steel frames are chrome plated and therefore it gives them that silver shiny look. Positioned on top of them there are two black cushions each.

On the same wall, there is a portray painted by Boccelli, the paint represents a man who has nothing and rests on the doorstep of an Italian church. Whenever I walk inside it I feel weird however, I don't know why but I don't feel at home and wish for breaking free out of its invisible grasp. I suppose this could mean that I don't like my house or I don't like my family.

I don't know what to say; I like sitting on the sofa alone because I am used to it, however, if my father were to sit beside me uneasiness would fill me.

I spotted my father sitting on the armchair, I don't know why he likes sitting there. weird

I stood by the door and

'Yes daddy' I answered

There was no response from him, I guess he's deep in thoughts. Who cares? I murmured to myself

I moved close to him so I can get his attention

'Yes daddy' I answered again but in a high tone this time.

He was quite taken aback, honestly, he didn't know I was there.

"What is the meaning of the stupid act you displayed earlier today at my office?" He asked

"I am sorry sir, what stupid act are you talking about?

He gave me a furious look, he has already started gnashing his molars; one thing he does whenever he is raged, his eyes were slowly turning red

I took few steps backward at the discovery of these

I began to fidget. My legs turned cold instantly, my palms became sweaty, I felt the urge to defecate immediately. Yes, my dad has that much effect on me. His next act would be a thunderous slap on my cheek, Mr. Grignard can never do away with it. He slaps whoever, he's a violent man

He is one of the reasons my brother left home and my younger sister had to go live with my Aunt in another City.

"You made a rule never to disturb you whenever you're in your room, the only time I have to talk to you is during breakfast but these days you skip breakfast the same way you skip dinner, I had no other choice than to visit you at your office. I needed to pay my tuition fee before the school portal shuts down" I finally spoke up still fidgeting

"You couldn't drop a text huh ? he roared

You planned to paint me red as the devil and you did! I am an irresponsible father right?! Imagine the embarrassment in everyone's presence! At my workplace!" He roared why coming close to me as I continued moving backward till I was unable to move anymore

"You're strong, you can handle it," I said to myself as if I know what was coming

"You, your mom, your siblings are the worst thing that ever happened to me, especially your mom!"

"I regret meeting your mom! I regret having you as a daughter! You're so dumb! You're. . .

"Dad. . ." I called out in a low voice. I was about to apologize when I felt a hot hit on my face. It was a slap, I gasped. Today's humiliation hits different, I wonder why. Stars escaped my eyes, I gently touched my cheek to feel the hotness and without control, tears rolled down my eyes. My heart's broken, my Dad hates me.

I closed my eyes and made a wish; Please go away, I wished. Like a human who just heard witches call his name, he immediately left home to his usual place; a bar.

I stood by the wall like I was glued to it. "Today's torture hits different," I said to myself again. I had stopped crying, honestly, it has always been this way and I am used to it already. My childhood experience was worse than this, my dad would abuse my mom not minding if his children are watching. He would throw his served food at her with the complaint of too much or no salt, he would leave home early and come back late banging on the door ready to lash out on anyone who delays in opening the door. He would demand food late at night not minding if my mom is asleep or not. Every bill has always been on my mom, he has never played the role of a father. He is so good at cheating on his wife without remorse, he keeps friends as abusive as he is, one of his friends I hate is Mr. George Ricks, a replica of my father, his bar mate, and fellow violent lover. One time my dad lost his job, my mom paid off his debts, looked out for him, and still got treated badly as a payback. Countless times my mom had tried trashing her wedding rings, she thought things would get better if my dad got a good job and she saw to it but it got worse.

My dad works at Authentic Gadgets Limited, where he works as a manager in charge of the importation and exportation of electronic gadgets. He rarely comes back home, skips breakfast and dinner, yells at everyone for everything which has always been his specialty, extended the hurtful words from my mom to us, his kids, pressures my mom to leave home, gets mad, and stops her if she tries to leave.

My phone blared Jcole's Amari and I was brought back to reality. I was still standing glued to the wall and I had forgotten, I tried moving my legs but it was too heavy. I didn't even realize I have been standing for too long, the also sent me into deep thoughts. My legs were free to move now, the tingling thing has stopped.

I quickly rushed upstairs to my room. My room is adjacent to Nichole's room, my younger sister's. It is one of the biggest rooms in our duplex house, it has black wallpaper and a white tile, the best combo ever. Yes, I love black because it's beautiful and hidden. My two windows have blinds, I hate curtains because I'm too lazy to do laundry. You'd sight a big-sized wooden wardrobe by the left-hand side of my room, my flat-screen TV carefully placed on the wall faced the entrance, my bed was a big-sized one; I love comfort. Even my bedsheets and pillowcases are black, that's how obsessed I am with black. I moved closed to my mirror which has a table and drawers attached to it. Reaching out for my phone, I looked at it; "thirteen missed calls" I said

I didn't realize it'd been ringing for a long time. I unlocked the phone to see whose call I missed, it was Richard. I love talking to Richard but now isn't the time. I dropped my phone and faced the mirror, as brown-skinned as I am, I can still see the redness on my cheek. My collar bones were visible already, my arms are getting thinner by the day, Acnes are living freely on my face, my short black hair looks so unkept and dry, eye bags as usual due to overthinking and not getting enough sleep. I was never blessed with big boobs but the little I have is decreasing daily, my nicely carved black lips keep getting blacker. My eyes, a clear pale brown just like my dad's look weak. My eyes and last name are the only this I got from him.

I sighted my ear piercing from the mirror, the earring is worn out and needs to be changed. Ding! My phone beeped one new message.

"Just called to check on you, call me as soon as you get this text, I miss you Theresa Lawson" I smiled. Richard does know how to put those on my face.