when the room went dark

When the Room Went Dark

When the room went dark, she heard her name.

“CARA! Where are you?”

“I’m in bed, Dad. What’s wrong?”

“I need a drink. Go and get me one.”

“I’m in bed. I’ve got school in the morning and it’s already gone twelve. Go to bed, Dad, please. I have exams coming up — I need rest.”

“CARA! I won’t ask you again. Do it now!”

Smash!

“What was that?” said Cara.

“It’s your fault! I’ve smashed the mirror — you should’ve done as you were told. Look what happened to your mother!”

“Where is she?”

“She’s gone and left you all. And why? Because she wouldn’t do as she was told. So I got rid of her. The same will happen to you.”

Cara muttered, “Oh, I wish. Who would get your drinks then?” she shouted back.

Her dad came thumping up the stairs. She hid under the covers and thought, Here we go… I should’ve just got the drink.

“Let me tell you this, girl — it’s me and me only that’s willing to look after you. You should be grateful.”

“Grateful?!” Cara threw back the covers. “For what? For being sixteen and lumbered with an aggressive drunk like you? I’m not your slave — run after yourself. As soon as I pass my exams, I’m out of here. I’m not living my life looking after you!”

“You drove Mum away! The only reason I stayed was because I felt sorry for you. But now I understand why she had to go — and one day I’ll be gone too. You’re a weak man, full of hatred and hurt for everyone. Go and sober up. Sort yourself out. I’m sick of being scared in my own home.”

“You can smash what you want, punch as many holes in those doors as you like. But trust me, Dad — I’m done with this life. There’s never any food in the house. You spend every penny on booze, acting the big man in the pub, telling everyone how you stayed — the ‘dutiful father’ after your terrible wife left. Blah blah, it’s all crap, Dad.

You’re a horrible, selfish man who only cares about yourself. Mum’s been gone two years, and all that confidence you drained from her — now you’re trying to do it to me. Keep me here so you’ve got someone else to drain.

Well, no, Dad. I’d rather be homeless. So go away and let me sleep for school.”

It’s seven in the morning. Cara’s alarm is going off.

It’s a fresh autumn morning — you can feel winter creeping in.

I don’t have a winter coat, Cara thought. The one from last year had gone too small. She’d had it since she was fourteen — it was the last thing her mum had bought her before she left. But it was way too small now, and the chances of getting a new one from her dad were slim. Very, very slim, she thought.

She crept downstairs, knowing every floorboard to avoid so she wouldn’t wake her dad up. She’d been walking on eggshells for years — breathing in as she crept, palms sweating, heart racing. Please, please, she thought, don’t wake up.

Cara’s dad liked to start a fight just before school. It was like he knew exactly what buttons to press to make her day feel as awful as possible. What does he get from it? she wondered. He used to do the same stuff to Mum. When her mum cried and talked about it, Cara couldn’t understand — her dad was always so nice in front of her. She actually loved him back then.

But she’d seen him in a different light since Mum had gone. Now it was just her taking the verbal abuse day in, day out. The threats… then the love bombing.

“Oh, Cara, you’re such a good girl, looking after your poor dad,” he’d say.

But as Cara was getting older, she was seeing the truth. I wonder where Mum is, and how she’s doing, she thought.

Mum had left Cara her number when she left, but her dad took it off her.

“Forget her, Cara — she’s dead to us. It’s obvious she doesn’t love us. Look how she just left you here. She never cared for you. She hated you. I love you — stay with me. I’ll always be here for you,” he’d say.

Huh, Cara thought.

When she entered the kitchen, it was a mess as usual — dishes everywhere, dirty worktops, piles of washing, and beer cans scattered about.

I just can’t deal with this life, she thought.

Then she heard her dad shout, “Make sure you clean that mess before school, or you won’t be going until it’s done!”

Cara preferred school to home. She didn’t have a lot of friends, but she had some who knew her situation and cared about her. She liked school — it was a safe place. She got fed, it was warm, and there was always a friendly ear to listen.

Although she never told the teachers much — her dad had warned her they’d take her away, send her to a children’s home where the kids weren’t loved or cared for.

Same as here, she thought.

I’m not doing this today, she decided, grabbing her school bag. She ran out the front door without a coat.

School was freedom. Home was a mental prison. She knew she’d suffer when she got back — but for now, she would enjoy her six hours of peace.

As Cara approached the local shops where all the school kids hung out, she spotted her group of friends and walked over with a smile.

“Hi gang! How’s everyone today?”

Although Cara had an awful life at home, she didn’t like to bring it to school with her. It was the only time she could pretend to be happy.

“Aren’t you cold, Cara?” her friend asked. “Where’s your coat?”

“Oh, I forgot it — I was late this morning. I’m not cold anyway,” Cara replied quickly.

“You look it,” said a lad from another group. “What’s up, Cara? Did your dad spend all his money in the pub again? Imagine having him as a father,” he sniggered. “Total waste man. My dad said he was in the boozer the other day flashing the cash, offering drinks left, right, and centre to everyone. Must’ve got his benefit money!”

Another boy shouted, “Yeah!” and they all started laughing.

Cara felt like exploding — every muscle tensed, her hands balled into fists. She wanted to punch him, to scream, you don’t know what it’s like.

But instead, she just glared and said quietly, “It is what it is. As long as you and your family are doing okay, why are you bothered about mine?”

The boy smirked, but she stepped closer, her voice sharper now.

“I might take your coat, hey? Then you can go home and talk about it with your perfect little family. Give you all something to chat about while you’re sitting around your dinner table tonight.

I’m sure your perfect family can afford another.”

“Right, kids,” the teacher shouted. “Settle down! We all have exams coming up — we need to focus.”

“Shut up!” shouted Billy.

“Okay, Miss, I was just saying — I don’t need to pass. I’ve got a good job lined up no matter what.”

“Well, good for you, Billy. That’s great, but not everyone does, and you still need your exams.”

“Hey, Miss!” shouted a girl called Sam. “My mum said if I train in beauty, I can work for her in her salon and then become a partner.”

“That’s really good, Sam,” said the teacher.

Cara couldn’t help but feel envious at those comments. How nice it must be to have parents to turn to — the kind that want to help and give you nice things in life.

Why the hell am I stuck with him? she thought.

Cara was deep in thought when the teacher interrupted.

“What about you, Cara? What are your plans after exams?”

“To get the hell out of here, Miss. To run as far as possible as I can.”

“Don’t go anywhere cold!” shouted the lad from before. “You don’t have a coat!”

“And you won’t have any teeth if you don’t wind it in, Harry,” said Cara.

Twice in one day was enough, she thought. Next time, he’s getting it.

Spoilt little brat, she thought. Money and nice things were never a problem for Harry — his parents seemed to have plenty. Two cars, the latest clothes, holidays every year. Harry was always dressed in top fashion, and he always had cash to flash.

“Hey, Harry,” Cara shouted. “What do your parents do for a living again?”

The whole class went quiet, waiting for Harry’s answer.

Harry said, “None of your business, is it?”

“I bet it’s none of the tax man’s business either,” said Cara — and the whole class burst out laughing.

Harry went red, muttered something, and got his book out.

Cara felt warm inside, knowing that was him quiet for the day. He didn’t like questions about his family — he knew they were up to no good, and so did the whole estate.

Easy to make money when it’s not legal, Cara thought.

The bell rang for lunch.

“Right, class,” said the teacher, “before you all run out like a herd of wild animals — we have a meeting in the hall at 1:30 p.m. about our end-of-year prom. We need to carry on with the planning. Not long now, kids.”

“Oh, I can’t wait,” said Sam. “My dress is being made as we speak — not too shabby, even if I say so myself.”

“Oh, are you hoping for prom queen?” said Harry, in his usual condescending voice.

“What about you, Harry?” said Cara. “Are you fitting the prom king description? Because last time I checked, kings were noble leaders — looking after their people, strong, respectable men. So before you answer, I think it’s a no.”

Sam laughed. “Yes! I’ve never heard of a spoilt brat king — one who couldn’t be noble if his life depended on it. You must make your parents so proud!”

Cara and Sam walked away laughing, leaving Harry furious.

“Stupid, daft girls,” he muttered to his mates. “They’re all thick.”

“So, Cara, tell me the truth — why haven’t you got a coat?” Sam asked. “I know you didn’t forget it. You can tell me the truth.”

Cara and Sam had been friends since infants. Sam’s mum was friends with Cara’s mum, and they’d spent a lot of time together growing up. Cara and her mum had turned up at Sam’s house on more than one occasion — her mum upset, crying because Cara’s dad had come home and caused trouble. Things got smashed, and her mum would run with Cara to a safe place. Sam understood Cara’s life.

“You know what he’s like, Sam,” Cara said. “Even if he had a million pounds, he still wouldn’t fork out for a coat for me. He associates me with my mum. All he says is, ‘Go away — you look like her, it makes me sick. If you need things, go and find her.’ I hate him, Sam. I can’t wait to get away.

I could never see it when I was younger — I’d see my mum walking on eggshells, tears in her eyes, and never knew why. Now I do. Words do hurt. He stuck the knife inside her and twisted it with his words until she had no choice but to go. She was a shadow of herself.”

“I know, Cara. I remember how happy and funny your mum was when we were younger — always full of life. Then as soon as he would appear, she’d change. It killed my mum when yours left, but she understood. She wanted to go and have it out with your dad, but he would’ve just given her abuse and chased her.”

“I know, Sam. It is what it is. It’s not permanent — it’s just a temporary situation until I can go and never see him again.”

“Promise me when you do, you’ll keep in touch. Don’t just disappear like your mum.”

“I promise, Sam. I’ll always keep in touch with you. You’re my best mate — I couldn’t carry on without you.”

They both smiled and went into the lunchroom.

“What are you getting?” said Sam.

“Erm, I don’t know. I’m starving. I’m not gonna lie — I haven’t eaten since yesterday lunchtime. As usual, there was no food in the house, just beer cans.”

“Well, why don’t you come to mine after school? You can have some tea. And I’ve got loads of spare coats — you can pick one. Show your dad you don’t need his help.”

“He doesn’t know the word ‘help,’ not for anyone but himself,” said Cara. “And okay, I’ll come. Thank you so much — you’re a good mate, Sam. I love you.”

Sam hugged her. “Love you too, my forever friend.”

“Hi, girls!” said Sam’s mum. “So glad to see you, Cara. You’re so beautiful — just like your mum.”

“Yes, on the outside and inside,” said Sam.

“Oh, stop it, you two,” Cara laughed.

“So, what shall we have for tea, girls? I’m thinking a takeaway followed by a girly night. Maybe you could ask your dad if you can stay over?” said Sam’s mum.

The colour drained from Cara’s face.

“I’d love that, but I don’t think my dad will allow it. He’ll already be furious with me because I didn’t clean the house before I went to school. It was a right mess — but I needed to get there. I could still hear him shouting when I was halfway down the street. I’m dreading going home. But if I don’t, he’ll go looking for me and bully everyone he comes across until he finds me.”

“Oh really? Let him just try it,” said Sam’s mum firmly. “He knows better than to come here shouting. I’ll ring the police straight away. He needs locking up.”

“I still miss your mum, Cara — and you remind me so much of her. She was such a gentle soul. How she ended up with such an awful man is beyond me.”

“I think she thought she could change him. She gave him love — he just threw insults her way, put her down all the time. I wish I understood it then like I do now. I’d have run with her. But I didn’t. I stood by my dad, not knowing what he was really like.

It does worry me, though… when I leave, will he just go and find another woman to bully? Men like him always need someone to pick on — it makes them feel secure, making someone else miserable.

Not long now until I leave school. He’ll have no control over me then. I can go and find my mum.”

Cara entered her house. She could hear her dad upstairs singing with the radio on. She thought he sounded like he was in a good mood — I wonder why.

“Is that you, Cara?” he shouted.

“Yes, Dad. Please don’t start on me. It’s been a long day. I’ll do the kitchen now; I didn’t have time this morning.”

Cara looked at the living room. It was a mess, stinking of beer and smoke. The telly had a big crack across the screen where her dad had thrown a can of beer at it for no reason at all. No family photos — he had ripped them all up. When her mum left she had one photo left of her and her mum when she was about eight; she cherished it, hidden away so her dad couldn’t destroy it.

“Yes, well make sure you do clean up. I’m out on a date and I might bring her back. You could do with a new mum — one that does as she’s told. You need a good woman to look up to, to learn off. You have your mother’s ways and look at her — she’s probably lying dead somewhere; no way she could cope without me this long.”

“Oh, Dad, just leave her out of it,” Cara said. “And I’m telling you now I’d rather be like my mother than you. While you’re shaving your face, have a good, hard look in the mirror at yourself, nasty little man,” she muttered.

He shouted, “What did you say, big gob? I’ll come down and show you what I’m about.”

“I’m not scared of you,” she shouted, even though she was trembling saying it. She wasn’t going to show fear. Not long now, she kept saying in her head.

Her dad came down looking all brand-new — the first time she had seen him get a proper wash all month.

“So you’re on a date, are you? Playing Mister Nice Guy until you reel the poor woman in. Pathetic,” Cara said.

“I’ll show you pathetic,” said her dad, as he threw a vase aiming for Cara. Cara ducked and shouted, “You missed!” as she ran up the stairs into her bedroom. She pulled her chest of drawers against the door. Her dad banged the door down. “Wait until my girl — you will need me for something.”

“Like what?” she shouted. “Food, probably. You never buy food,” she added.

“Well, the electric’s about to go. I might stay out all weekend and let you sit in the dark. It wouldn’t be the first time, would it? I have candles. Go on your date and play your nice guy, Dad. Have fun — try not to die.”

Cara laughed to herself. “Well, I wrecked his good mood like he wrecks mine on a daily basis. I hope he trips on his way out.”

Cara put her music on and got her homework out. Not long now, she thought, as she looked at all her coursework. Cara thought about becoming a social worker. She would like to help kids like her. She knew she wasn’t the only person suffering because of someone else. But also men like her father need stopping — they go round destroying people’s self-esteem and confidence and get away with it, because apparently words don’t hurt. But they do, she thought.