WOW! i never have time for anything these days but I still try to find time to read other blogs and this is one young talent I think everyone should check out. I’m going to post one of her short stories called ‘Dear Dad’ which I dare say is absolutely sensational. Her writing style is versatile (read her other stories and you’ll know what I mean) and the beauty of her work is that you can feel her emotions in her writing. To channel these emotions to create art is a gift that not just anyone possesses. If she keeps at it, she’s definitely going places. Here is a link to her blog: http://emeritells.wordpress.com/2012/04/04/dear-dad/ , Make sure you check it out! Enjoy Emeri’s short story titled Dear Dad:
I’m lying here perfectly dressed like never before, at least my body is. But I can see you now, every move you take, and every word you speak. I can see how quickly you’ve gotten over what happened, how relieved you look.
Daddy do you remember? Do you remember when you first held me in your arms and promised you would never hurt me? Do you remember saying I will forever be your only ada (first daughter)? Do you remember when you said no one would ever hurt me?
I’m here now because of you, because of the grief you caused, the pain you started. I’m lying here perfectly dressed like never before, where my only companion is the dirty soil, where my dress would soon be ruined by the little termites and ants. I’m here where I can’t cry or at least I thought so. The man at the grave yard told me that ghosts do cry, he said it would be better if I stayed here and slept peacefully. But daddy you keep pulling me to you because you promised! You promised me dad!
We did nothing but love you, I saw you as the ideal husband, I used you as a parameter for the man that would later walk into our home and ask for my hand in marriage. Dad we gave you everything, she gave you everything. Wasn’t her love enough or the sacrifices she had made? She married you; you that poverty chased at a young age, you that couldn’t afford slippers. She saw you as an ideal husband, nne (mother) a rich daughter of the land; she accepted you as you were.
Daddy, you’re kissing her, not nne, the other one, your holding another ada in your arms as well. I look with tears in my eyes and for a minute you turn to my direction and whisper my name as if you can see me, but she pulls you back to herself, back to her youthful, yet cheap and overused body and finally I scream. I scream so the world can pause for a while and feel my pain. But I forget that I don’t exist anymore because in “reality” I’m lying there perfectly dressed like never before guarded by the polished French wooden box.
Do you remember when mum was in the kitchen preparing another meal for you because you came home angry and yelled that you hated the ofe nsala (a native soup) she had prepared? Everything she did got you mad even though you tried to hide the unnecessary hatred most times. I guess you thought I couldn’t see past your charming eyes, I bet you thought I couldn’t see your lying, cheating heart. You walked into your bedroom and I could hear you tell someone afuginaya (I love you). mum hadn’t heard that in a long time but another woman was getting what mum deserved; your love. I hated you then, hated you with everything within me. I still hate you now.
Mum still loved you though, but probably because she didn’t know what you really were, a traitor. But she was going to find out and even though I didn’t want to tell her I knew someone will. She loved you dad gave you everything. All she got from you was deceit. You traitor! You lying silly fool!
Daddy I called out for you. you were still at the office, remember. That’s what you told us. I had cut my hand as I tried to prepare dinner for you because mum had gone to do omugwo (a long visit to a new mother and child after birth) for aunty Nkem. Daddy I was thinking about you, about how everything had changed, about how you had changed. I didn’t know when the knife slit my vein. Daddy I called out for you, I tried to talk to you on the phone but all you did was tell me you were coming home soon and I could hear her say that you should end the call and lie in bed with her. Daddy you let her take the phone from you, you chose her over me. you let me bleed to death daddy.
All I ever wanted was a family that would remain a family. All I ever wanted was you to keep your promises. All I ever wanted was you to remain my daddy. All I ever got was a pretty dress, a wooden box and a short seventeen years on earth because of you! You liar! Traitor! You murdered me in ways you could never imagine.
Dad, mum knows now, she talks to me every night without knowing she’s talking to me. she told me she knows what you’re up to, what you are, who you are. I laugh now because, unlike you, I can see your tomorrow, I can see how terrible you’re going to end up after this mistress is done with you. I can see how mum will become a stronger person, how she will survive, how she will learn to put you behind.
I can also see the terror on your face as you read this letter. Don’t worry dad, I’m not leaving anytime soon.
With so much hate,
Your dead daughter, Kamarachi
P.S can’t wait till you join me here.
Born: September 15