Word exchange

My Father's thunderous voice reverberated through the walls.

"What is going on here? What are these dirty pigs doing in my house?" he bellowed, his presence suffocating and irritating.

………

I tried to convince my Mother that we shouldn't meet him now, emphasizing the need for us to rest and resurrect after our time away.

However, her determination to confront him prevailed. She insisted that we must challenge him, fearing he might arrange another marriage, and this time it could be mine.

*Conversation with Mother*

"Mum, we need to rest. Our bodies have endured a lot, and we should approach this with a clear mind.

Don't forget that we have been away for a while now. Our bodies need to cool and relax," I pleaded with my mother, hoping to persuade her after Angela failed greatly at it.

"My answer to you is the same as the one I told Angela. That's the coward in you talking! Resurrect? Are you Jesus that you now need to rest?" My mother scoffed, her laughter filled with sarcasm.

"Look, we will confront that monster now, and if he dares to say rubbish, I will break him in two!" She replied, her voice filled with anger and jealousy.

Angela and I shared a silent prayer, hoping for a peaceful resolution. I couldn't bear the thought of bloodshed, especially if it involved my own mother.

"Yes! It would be my mother's blood because my father would beat her until she bent her back for him and obeyed his will," As I thought of the potential consequences, I tried to convince her multiple times, but when I noticed that it was pointless and ineffective, I decided to ignore it, shifting my focus to preparing for any medical emergencies, by buying: spirits, cottonwood, and other important first aid essentials.

………

"What is going on here? What are these pigs doing in my house?" Father bellowed, his presence suffocating and irritating.

"These pigs are the product of the sperm you released nineteen years ago!" Mother replied, looking at him from head to toe and hissing loudly.

"What is wrong with you, Crystal, and why have you made up your mind not to allow me to drink water and drop the cup peacefully?" Father asked, sounding ridiculous and stupid.

*No offense though.*

"You peace?!" Mother funnily clapped her hands and screamed, loud enough for the whole estate to hear, "There is no peace for the wicked! There is no peace for the man who is bent on ruining my children's lives!" And her response was earned with a slap.

Yes, my father slapped my mother.

The room fell into stunned silence as the slap echoed, a harsh reminder of the bad history between them. I felt a surge of anger and frustration, witnessing their toxic relationship once again.

The maids had gathered around, their hands on their heads, they were expecting my mother to retaliate, but she didn't do what they expected her to do this time around.

Mother, unbothered by the assault, glared at Father with anger, a mischievous grin on her face. "You can't silence the truth with violence. We won't tolerate your schemes any longer. And I am warning you for the last time Anthony, the next time you raise your hands to hit me, that would be your last day on earth." Mother swore.

As the tension escalated, Angela and I exchanged a worried glance. The room felt charged with the weight of unresolved conflicts, and the atmosphere crackled with intensity.

I could sense Angela's concern reflected in her eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the impending chaos.

Father, seemingly remorseless, scoffed. "Last day on earth?" He burst into laughter.

"Truth? Your delusions have no bounds, Crystal. These are my daughters, and I'll do as I please, if it pleases me, I can knack them with my prick."

Mother, her jaw clenched in frustration, shot back, "Your daughters? You brute! More like prisoners in your twisted game. I won't let you destroy their lives any longer. Today is your last!"

The verbal exchange between my parents turned into a fierce battle of words, each sentence a dagger cutting through the already strained air.

I could feel the heat of the confrontation, a suffocating intensity that made it difficult to breathe.

Father, with a mocking smirk, retorted, "You always had a thing for the dramatic, Crystal. Playing the victim suits you well.

Do you remember that I was the one who brought you out of poverty and made you who you are today?"

Mother, smiled, unaffected by his taunts, and shot back, "I'm not playing the victim. I'm exposing the villain that you are.

Also, have you forgotten that I was the one who gave you one of my kidneys when you had no money to pay, and no dona was willing to donate for you."

"Oh! Kidney….. " On and on their words battle continued, as they exposed each other's secrets.

Angela whispered to me, her voice barely audible, "Anita, we need to get out of here. This won't end well. Mother might get hurt in the process!"

I nodded in silent agreement, but we were both rooted in place, unable to tear our eyes away from the verbal battlefield unfolding before us.

Father, his anger escalating, banged his fist on the table. "You might be joking if you think you can escape my control. These girls are mine, and you can't change that. Well, I hate Anita, but I need her for money"

Before Mother could reply, I blurted out angrily.

"Sell your big C for money!"

Angela's grip on my hand tightened, her worry obvious. "Anita, we have to go. This is getting dangerous."

I hesitated, torn between the urge to flee and the desire to witness this confrontation to its end.

Father, his face twisted with rage, pointed an accusing finger. "You've poisoned their minds against me. I won't allow it."

Mother shot back, "I've only exposed the truth. They deserve to know who you really are."

Angela's voice trembled as she whispered, "Anita, please. We can't stay here. It's not safe."

"Anita, Angela, let's go," Mother urged, taking a step back. "We won't achieve anything here. We need a plan, a strategy to deal with him."

Reluctantly, we retreated from the room, leaving behind the storm that raged between our parents. Outside, Mother took a deep breath, her eyes filled with a mix of frustration and determination.

"We need to be smart about this. Confronting him directly won't work. We have to expose his plans, reveal his true nature," Mother declared, her voice resolute.

Angela nodded in agreement, "We can't let him control us anymore. It's time to break free from his manipulation."

Amidst the tension, Angela whispered, her voice barely audible, "We've faced the worst before. We can get through this together."

I nodded, attempting to reassure myself. "Right. Together." The weight of the word echoed in our collective decision.

Anita, her eyes reflecting a mix of determination and anxiety, added, "This might be the storm we need to weather to finally break free."

Our huddle tightened, a silent pact generated in that dimly lit room. As the echoes of our past rumbled in our minds, the assumed understanding between us spoke volumes. The storm outside mirrored the one within, but we were ready to face it head-on.

Angela's gaze met mine, her eyes conveying a blend of strength and vulnerability. "No matter what happens, we face it as a family."

That day, we all slept in my room, but only if we knew what our enemies were planning, we wouldn't have slept.