Hating Hades

C H A P T E R 5 - Dilara.

Just as I had been expecting, when I stepped into the house, there was nothing but complete and utter silence. It was something that I had never before been lucky enough to hear in this house, especially not during a family gathering that was as big as this one—especially if it was as big as my mother had claimed it would be.

But despite the silence, the house was practically packed to the brim with people, and that right there, was all of the proof that I needed to know that I had not only been unexpected, but I had been unwelcome too. It seemed to me that the only person who had actually wanted me here, was my mother. But unfortunately, she was not a big enough force to stand against all of these people. The two of us together weren’t even strong enough.

I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, or even if there was anything that I could have done to make this situation slightly less uncomfortable or more bearable. But I doubted that there was. I was sure that I would have thought about it already. I made sure that I stepped far enough into the house so that both of my parents would be able to come in behind me, so that both my mother and father would be able to come inside without either of them standing halfway outside of the door.

I couldn’t be too sure about whether or not my estimations had been correct, at least not until I had heard the door shut behind us, which I decided to take as a good sign. Who would have thought that after all these years, I still knew just how much space they would take up?

Fascinating how the mind and memory worked, wasn’t it?

                “Who’s that?”

My eyes found their way to the owner of the voice that had spoken and I couldn’t help but think to myself that I had never seen this particular child once before. I had to admit that there was some familiarity to his features, but I couldn’t pinpoint exactly who it was that I was seeing in his features—so I just decided to move past it by moving farther into the room, despite the fact that my footsteps sounded like an avalanche was happening right in our backyard.

                “As you all can see, Dilara has decided to pay us a visit.”

It was my father who spoke, and once again, I was able to pick up on the bitterness in his voice, and I found my shoulders tensing on their own accord, for I suddenly became uncomfortable with the fact that my back was turned on him, uncomfortable with the fact that there was something strange about his treatment of me. I hadn’t left on bad terms, and surely if my years of absence had upset him to this point, then he wouldn’t have made the effort to speak to me whenever my mother made her monthly calls.

Why were they all behaving this way?

It didn’t make any sense.

                “Does she need money to pay for more surgery?”

I couldn’t turn my head fast enough to see who it was that had spoken, to see who it was who had dared to make a comment like that, but the general direction of where it had come from, was only family. It seemed to me that there wasn’t a single person here who wasn’t in some way related to our family, but the only problem was that I had absolutely no idea where majority of them fit into the puzzle, because I hadn’t seen them in so long.

Most of them were people who I hadn’t even laid my eyes on for years before my accident, let alone in the last few years of my absence. But if that was the case, why did they feel like they somehow had the right to judge me for being absent, for choosing to take care of myself instead of leaving myself subject to this place, to the mental torture that I had often been forced to endure?

If anyone deserved to say anything about anyone, then it was me.

I had more than enough to say, about today alone, but I knew better than to do that. Everyone was already hostile towards me, and it would be wise if I didn’t make it worse.

                “Alright, everyone, I’m sure that you can keep your comments to yourself. I’ve missed my daughter and I would prefer to have her here for as long as she can manage to put up with you.”

Mother.

My sweet, sweet mother, who instantly jumped to my defence, although she didn’t single out the person who had spoken. I would have enjoyed taking note of who it was so that I would be able to get back at them in some way later, although I wasn’t completely sure how I would have done that.

A few murmurs went through the room, and in that moment I would have wanted nothing more than a better sense of hearing so that I would have been able to hear what all of them were saying, and essentially, to be able to make note of what everyone thought of me.

But it was almost as if my mothers’ words had snapped them out of the daze that they had slipped into, for all of them started to speak with one another, the children starting to chatter again, and the silence that had been there was now gone as if it had never been there at all, as if it had been nothing more than a trick of the mind. But I knew better than that. There was no way in hell that you would simply be able to imagine silence in an environment that was as filled as this one.

I turned around so that I was once again able to face both my mother and my father, and I felt an enormous amount of relief once I was able to see my father again, once I was certain that I would be able to see him coming if he wanted to strangle my throat. I couldn’t even begin to understand what was going on here, or why he was behaving in this manner, and my mother’s uncertainty seemed to be just as clear as mine.

Which meant that she had no idea that he would have reacted to me in this manner—but if that was the case, then why was he reacting this way?

I simply couldn’t fathom any of it.

No matter how hard I tried to.

                “You need to get a hold of yourself.”

My eyes found their way to my mother out of their own accord and I couldn’t help but think to myself that that was the strictest that I had ever heard her be with my father, for he was usually the one who put his foot down and who made final decisions about certain things. I had thought that that would never change, but it seemed to me like I may have been wrong, because at the moment, it didn’t seem like that was the case anymore.

It was funny how much seemed to have changed on a superficial level—but I knew better than to simply believe what I was seeing at first glance. I had been forced to question myself more than enough times because of it.

Of all the things that I had been expecting my father to do, he did the thing that I hadn’t been expecting at all. Instead of snapping at my mother for daring to oppose what he clearly believed to be right, he turned to the side and walked away from us, not even daring to spare a glance in my direction. It was almost as if he had decided upon himself that if he didn’t see me, he would by some miracle manage to forget that I was there.

The pressure on my shoulders seemed to return, and I had no idea who or what could have been causing it now, but I did know the feeling well enough to know that I wasn’t in the safest of places. I did my best to seem casual and unaffected when I turned around, finding that there was no one behind me, and it didn’t seem like there was anyone else coming towards me either. I just barely stopped the frown from covering my features, which was a good thing because my mother came to stand beside me a moment later, instead of continuing to stand behind me.

Even though to any normal person it would have seemed like we were simply two people who were standing in harmony, two people who were standing beside one another and enjoying the view. But I knew that we weren’t. We were far from that. And I knew my mother well enough to know that there was something coming, whether it be an admission or a declaration, that I did not know. But something was coming.

I could feel it.

                “Don’t be too hard on your dad, Dilara.”

                “He seems comfortable with being outright harsh on me, and you want me to not be hard?”

I knew that it was a feeble response in terms of a defence, but I told myself that it matter. What my mother and I spoke about didn’t make any difference either, because in the end, it wasn’t my father who I was speaking to. He was the one who needed to get everything straight. Not me.

                “All that I’m saying is that you’re not the only one who has been through difficult times, Dilara. And while you’re here, you need to realise that because if you don’t, I can promise you that your dad will never again treat you in the way he used to. The choice is yours.”

I clenched my jaw.

Who did she think she was? To tell me that my so-called difficult year/years have been such a burden. And yes, she hadn’t said so directly, but I doubted that it would make much difference. After all, underlying meanings were just as good as straight-forward intentions.

I turned around and walked right back out of the door that I had walked into moments ago, uncaring of the fact that it slammed rather harshly when I closed it.