Janet watched in tears as her father pulled every item of feminine attire out of it’s hiding spot. “Son, this is for your own good.” Her heart began to race as he boxed up every dress, skirt, blouse, and undergarment that lay atop the her bed. She worked all summer to afford her fledgling wardrobe. “Can’t imagine why you would want all this stuff. It’s not like you'll wear it anywhere.”
“What do you do? Jerk yourself off with these?” The thought horrified her. She could barely look at her ‘deformity’ much less think of it as a source of pleasure. She couldn’t bring herself to speak. “Honestly, Jeremy, do you know how much money this was? Do you know what you could have done with all that money? You worked tirelessly. How could you spend it so... frivolously?” She tried to recount the hours, the nights she barely had enough energy to march up the stairs to collapse on to her bed. What as Dad going to do with all of this?
I can’t trust you to spend your money wisely, I going to have to move your money into a Certificate of Deposit to keep you from spending it all. She tried to recall how much money she had left in her account. Five maybe six thousand? All that money locked away for five years? But she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Instead, she continued to cry. She wanted to beg her dad to stop. She wanted to plead with him to allow him to keep what little she had.
“Don’t you touch any of that Jeremy, Do you hear me?” She nodded. Torn between disobeying her father and betraying herself. A few moments later, her dad returns with a box cutter and duct tape. He stretches the tape over the opening in the box and seals the top. Janet felt her heart sink. She watched helplessly as he loaded another box. Not even bothering to fold any of it. Her silent crying didn’t phase him. “Son, you really should be more of a man.” She couldn’t she was no more a man than her mother or her older sister. As the box neared capacity her father shook his head. “Damn, son I can’t believe how much of this stuff you have. What possessed you to buy all of this?” He drops the last of her clothing into it.
Again, the duct tape is unraveled and stretched over the opening. Another drop of her heart. “I don’t know why you're making such a fuss over it.” He set the box on top of the other box when he decides to stop and look at his son. “You know, you haven’t moved from that spot.”
Her pulse began to race. “What else are you hiding?” She didn’t want to move. What she hid was worth more that the clothes in the box. The clothes could be replaced. “Come on, move.” She stood there defiantly. “Jeremy, I told you to move.” She wasn’t going to move. He was going to take her clothes, but she would be damn if he got his hands on it.
Her father got more and more anxious at what his son was hiding. He debated about laying a hand on his son. It wasn’t something he was willing to do. His wife made him a promise years ago, that he wouldn’t lay a hand on him. His promise to her was one of the hardest ones to keep. Even when Jeremy was at his most defiant. He never laid a finger on him. His promise to his wife had brought her memory back to him. It had been 2 long years since the accident that claimed her life. He didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.
Their daughter had left home not long after. He had grown overprotective of her because, she reminded him so much of his wife that he couldn’t bare to see anything happen to his only daughter. Her last words before leaving the house was, "I hate you and I’m never coming back.” The thanks for a father’s love. Now his son was equally defiant. What was he protecting? “Son, I want you to move now!” He demanded. His son didn’t move an inch. “Did you hear what I said?” Again his son did nothing.
She was defiant. She knew she was. She couldn’t help but be defiant. Her father was going to throw away all that she had worked for; he was not going to get his hands on what she held so dear. Her father snapped again. “I said move! NOW!” Her father was so angry. He had never raised his voice to her like that. It scared her. Was this what drove Veronica out? Was it possible for her father to strike her? She was not going to back down. In a burst of anger, her father grabs her by the shirt and throws her to the floor; She's stunned. Barely able process that her father had just thrown her to the ground like a rag doll. She sat there in complete and utter shock.
He proceeded to search the desk beginning with the hunch. Pulling book after book and throwing it on the bed. The top shelf held no secrets. He moved to the second shelf. He search book after book. There was something he was hiding he was sure of it. What else could there be? What more could there be than a stack of women's clothes. His frustration grew as book after book flew to the bed. Reaching the desk he methodically went over each item. He was a madman possessed to find what deep, dark secret his son was hiding. His mind raced through all the possibilities. Could his son have a gay lover? Was he hiding something more deviant? His motions became more aggressive as swiped at the items on the desk. The desk clear, he moved to the drawers.
She watched on as he pulled the first drawer out from the desk and laid on the table. An assortment of pens, pencils, rulers and erasers. Her anxiety grew. He was getting closer. She watched as he pulled the second drawer and dumped it on the bed makeup and jewelry. “Is this what you didn't want me to find? Or is there more?” Her father was twitching with anger. She felt something that she never felt from her father. Fear. Absolute Fear. Turns from her and grab the third drawer. Her wig and breastforms. “What the hell is this?” He looks at her. “TELL ME! WHAT IS THIS? WHY DO YOU HAVE ALL THIS!!!” She couldn’t answer. She just stared at the last drawer.
He looked at his son. Rage ran through his body and mind. He had pulled out a wig and breast out of a drawer. That got no reaction from his son. His son just sat unmoving on the floor where he tossed him. He couldn’t believe what he was finding in his only son’s room. He couldn’t fathom why his son would have such things. Why he would buy such things. All his son had worked for was spent on… A perversion… A perversion that was worth openly defying him. It made no sense. His son was looking at the final drawer. Whatever he was protecting it was there. Whatever it was it was beyond makeup and jewelry, beyond a wig and breast. What was it? He gives a sigh and slides open the drawer gently. Almost not wanting to know what he would find.
She stared at him sliding the last drawer open. Her image of her father was destroyed in his violence and his cruelty. He had done everything and crossed every line. There was nothing left. She just stared at the drawer. The tears just kept pouring out. In the drawer, lay a pink album. She watched as her father pulled the book from the drawer almost reverently. His tenderness with the book was a contrast to the violent treatment everything else received. Her heart was beating out of her chest. He puts the album on the table and begins to flip through the pages. Photos of her mom growing up followed by photos of her father growing up.
He was familiar with this book but, had not seen it for so many years. He flipped through more pages, photo of him, his wife and his daughter. The two women in his life that had left him so suddenly. He felt his heart sink. Was this what his son was protecting? It made no sense. He continued silently turning the page. Photos of his son. He flips the page a photo of him, his wife, daughter and son. More of the same from the next photo. Then a photo of a young woman. He knew it wasn’t his daughter. The young woman looked just like his wife. He turns the photo. Three women, to the left was his daughter in the center his wife and finally the other woman smiling happily with the other two. The final page, a photo of his wife and the young girl, the caption Happy Birthday my baby girl. Love, Mommy.
He turned to look at the daughter he had seen every day but had never met. The look of betrayal on her face. He turns back slowly closing the photo album and setting it back into the drawer. He felt ashamed at what he had done. What he just put his youngest and last remaining daughter through. “I’m so sorry honey, please forgive your old man.” He knew she had no reason to trust him, no reason to forgive him. If his wife could accept their youngest daughter for the woman she was, why couldn’t he. He looked at her pleading for forgiveness.
She stared back at her father, stunned at his apology. It was sincere and heart felt. She was just too hurt and betrayed. He was ready to reject her at the drop of a hat. What could she do?
By morning, her room was empty and her car was gone. She had finished what her father started; she packed everything she owned and left. The only thing remaining was the pink photo album on the table in her room and a note.
I forgive you Daddy, but I’m not coming back.
I love you,
Janet.
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Comments
Ouch!
That had to hurt a lot. Some of us had endured worse too :(
Sephrena
Well done!
I say the bastard didn't deserve ANY of the three women in his life. How one man can be so abusive and cruel is beyond me.. His first mistake was betraying Janet's privacy. His second mistake was breaking his promise to his wife by striking Janet. By doing this, he forever befouled his departed wife's memory. His third mistake was the failure to learn from the ordeal he went through with his eldest daughter. If he'd only had some compassion, he would not have lost her. I SERIOUSLY doubt I would have been as forgiving as Janet. Truly she was her mother's daughter. She's lost ABSOLUTELY NOTHING by cutting the bastard completely out of her life. Sometimes, to find TRUE HAPPINESS, you have to forego and completely purge the negative elements that have you bound.
*Kisses Always*
Haylee V
Will it end here?
I think that this was a pretty good story. He did not deserve either of his girls, but I wonder if the anger we see is not due to grief that he has not been able to deal with.
I would think that one or both of the girls might want to reconnect with their father. We can understand why Janet left, but would her father's apology soften her heart at some point? There had to be some reason why Janet's sister left other than their father's over-protectiveness. Would she want to come back at some time?
Look at the other side of the coin
This short story really struck a chord with me! I have been in a very simmilar situation, though on the other side of the coin.
I can relate very much to that sentiment. As the saying goes: "Been there, done that, got the t-shirt." Though there is a difference in my experience to this fathers experience. My ex-spouse is still alive and kicking up mayhem, while his spouse is dead.
After much difficulty we became pregnant with our first child, and lost a beautifull daughter to medical negligence during the birth process. The resultant depression for my ex-spouse made a new pregnancy even more difficult. And the ex-spouse did not want any counseling, but jumped at the chance to adopt a little girl that was caught in the system after the exposure of an international adoption racket. The day we brought our eldest daughter home, we got confirmation of a new pregnancy. After that my eldest daughter was treated as a second class person by my ex-spouse. Within three years of the birth of our youngest daughter, my ex-spouse denied me all sexual relations (even hugs and hand-holding). So marking the definitiv begining of the end of our marriage.
After several atempts to frivoulusly sue me and even get me thrown in jail one court finally granted the custody and cohabitation of my two daughters, citing my voluntary psychological treatment as marking me a better parent, as opposed to the ex-spouse who vehemently denied de need (past or present) of any kind of psychological counseling or therapy.
After a parental kidnapping atempt (successfull with the youngest, but a severe beating for the eldest), and more frivoulus suings aided by feminazis, I became increasingly protective of my "remaining" daughter. We got along well, until a summer-camp counselor virtually ordered her to renew her relationship with the absent parent. Then things started going south in a hurry, since the ex-spouse required her to skip school, start underage drinking, go to adult nightclubs, escape at night from home to prostitute herself. All with the goal to discredit my parenting. After that, there was no more reasoning with my daughter, and she moved out the day after her 18th birthday.
After that, the ex-spouse stooped to accusing me of sexually abusing my daughters, in an attempt to put me into jail and making of with all my assets. Even though that accusation has been proven false, I have not been able to have any contact with my daughters for more than two years now.
So, given that hindsight is 20/20 sight and all that. Please cut the father in this story some slack!
Yes, he did cross some lines. But there is also a deep betrayal by his dead wife, who went behind his back in hiding the gender issues of his "son". Instead of bringing him onboard about the change necessary for their younger child, she just asked him to blindly promise to never lay a hand on his son (aka daughter). And it seems likely that the mother asked both of her daughters to also keep the gender issues of the younger one a secret from their father, thus undermining the trust relationship towards their father.
Even though the father, once he realised what was really going on, and he showed understanding and acceptance of the real and underlying issue, as well as genuine remorse for his rash actions through ignorance and blindsiding by his dead spouse, the fragile trust was completely shattered.
So please don't blame the father as the only villain here. A big part of the blame also needs to be laid at the feet of the dead mother!
All in all, this is a sad tale of the reality that so many families live because spouses are not willing to trust each other and be true partners as parents, in order to provide a stable and loving environment for their children.
Jessica
The other side of the coin.
Thank you and I can only empathize with what you have been through, you and your family. I agree that the father in this story is not the only 'villain' in the story. I think your response and sharing your heartbreaking experience adds a counterpoint to the narrative of this story. For that, I thank you as well.
Huggles,
Leila
Too true
There are always two sides to a story like this. Thank you for acknowledging how much the father was betrayed. I feel like he really got screwed over. He lost a daughter for no other reason than that people wouldn't tell him important information about his own children.
If anything, Janet comes off looking horrible, unwilling to give a second chance after wrongly assuming the worst about her father. He was in as tough of a situation as she was. Did she really think he wouldn't be determined enough to search until he got to the bottom of it?
This Sounds Something Like What I Went Through
Man, that brought back memories! At least he had one parent and a sister on his side for awhile. And his parents were far less violent than mine.
At Last, Admitting What I Am To Myself...
Hurt
:-(
Forgiveness?
No way! How does one forgive for that total destruction of all that one is, all that one wants, all that one has?
I couldn't and I never will. I take their cruelty to my grave. I may have put it behind me, I may even have forgotten it - OCCASIONALLY! - but forgive? Sorry, that escapes me. My brother (who is reconciled to my transition) asked if I ever wanted to visit their grave. I never have and never will.
Mandatory
T blocker shots once men have 2 kids or convicted of assault, sexual harassment, etc. Exceptions for the military and fire fighters; no exception for cops.
Hugs and Bright Blessings,
Renee
This is a sad story and disappointing
A disappointing resolution to this story. At the end of the day there are no winners and running away is not a solution.
While the father is demonstrably wrong going though the personal possessions the story gives no real indication of his back story and his attitude so we all fall back on the stereotypes with assumptions that hes an irredeemable bigoted male homophobe. However judging by the ending he's definately not irredeemable. Yes he's clearly ignorant and out of touch with his family but they have been keeping secrets from him with no attempt to change his attitude. If they really thought he was irredeemable why didnt they leave before the spouse died and he became even more cranky? Am I therefore to conclude that the ending is just a yaboo and up yours, for the community, with the father getting his commupence?
Disappointing Indeed
The father was in just as hard a situation as the daughter, and Janet's insistence on seeing him as a determined enemy when he was clueless made it worse. I feel so sorry for Dad, honestly. Thanks to people not telling him information ABOUT HIS OWN KIDS, the fact that he doesn't immediately accept something thrown at him from left field costs him a daughter.
Janet comes out of this seriously stained in my opinion, although I am sure that she feels justified.
Too Committed To Curve Balls?
Redemption. Acceptance. You traveled a straight and clear story arc to arrive in paroxysms of emotion at both, and then, poof! You threw it all away. Why?
Sometimes it just ends that way.
I understand this story in ways I can't express.
Gwen
That story hurt
Unfortunately I was that daughter/son, I had just really established a mother/daughter relationship when my mother died of a sudden heart attack leaving my father and 2 brothers. As hard as I tried to keep my father out of my life he kept finding ways to drag me back in to his on his terms, from the time I was 28 and came out until I was 37 we saw each other once and my mother was with him that time after she died he found ways for him to visit me once a month and he did everything he could to make me a son the stopped being 10 years earlier. I remember him forcibly cleaning out my closet and drawers more than once, being beaten for not being enough of a man in his eyes and being humiliated in public for my supposed sexual preference from the time I was 10 years old until he died when I was 50 years old. So I can understand this young lady's desire to never have any further contact from her father.
Still hurting
Nothing in this story tells whether Janet's dad has dealt with the death of his wife in any way.
Nothing in this story explains why his wife kept his youngest a secret. Nothing explains why all of a sudden, it seems, he's going though clothing and removing all of Janet's clothing.
What is explained is why his two daughters left home without intentions of returning. This portion brought back many memories of similar situations.
Without having answers to all the questions from this story, speculation as to dad's motives are moot. It must be known why he failed to deal with the death of his wife. It must be known why Janet's existence was kept from him. It must also be known how overprotective he became. And it must be known why he decided to search Janet's room for her clothes.
The two girls needing to leave is understandable if the reason has been experienced. But not going back for visits depends on how severely they were hurt. It may not have been physical, but not all hurt is physical.
This story needs a back chapter, going back to the time mom discovered Janet, if not before. The whys need answered so this chapter can be better understood.
Others have feelings too.
About this story.
Unfortunately, I read and responded to your other comment before reading this one.
I had intended this story to be a set up to a much longer series. The feedback on this story made me reconsider my original idea. I created and floated the other story in this set to explore the Father's perspective and where I could take the story next after abandoning my original idea. The next story "If We Didn't Have Yesterday", will likely delve into the thoughts you raised. Thanks for commenting!
Huggles,
Leila
"I forgive you Daddy, but I’m not coming back"
well, now he's lost all of his family
Forgiveness follows repentance
It is terribly hard but the continued hatred simply eats away at our soul. I am sure that my Stepfather would have murdered me had I not tried as hard as I could to conceal myself. Many years later I saw a picture of him holding a very nice fish. He looked happy. I felt sad for him.
Gwen