16th April 2009 – A taxing day

This is a diary entry written by myself on this date. Have come back from my boyfriend’s house and the punishment begins. Having spent half an hour in the dentist’s chair, my mouth is de-numbing itself.

A letter arrived from the tax office asking for some details to be corrected. My dad has found this letter and taken upon himself to read and go through it. I ask to check one of the forms myself. He immediately gets annoyed with me. He accuses me of “questioning” his intentions.

He tells me that a ‘clever’ person or someone ‘who is on the ball’, could sort this kind of thing out on their own. Of course he thinks I am neither.

I dismiss his insult and ask to see the pamphlet again. He suddenly becomes aggravated and violently scrunches up the forms and throws them at me. I pick it up telling him not to react so badly and to straighten the paper. He exploded flinging all the papers on the table towards me. “STUPID!” He screams, “I’m not doing anything for you ever again!” I refused to take it. Normally I would walk away but I felt compelled to make a stand, albeit foolishly. I answer back and he tells me I have a big mouth. His face takes on his usual threatening expression and I tell him to stop. He stands up and backs me into the corner of the room.

“You are vile! You are evil!” he screeches. I bend down and begin clearing up the papers around the room. I ask in the quietest voice for him to stop the insults but nothing stops him.

“You’re an awful daughter, you’re so selfish, GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE!” he yells. I cannot believe his behaviour. I ignore his request as he regularly shouts this command in his rages.

His insults continue as I tidy up.

“It is no wonder you fall out with people.Your mother only likes you because you are just like her. You have made my life a misery for fifteen years. I’ve had to put up with hell!! All the bad things that will happen to you you’ll deserve. If you mess up this tax letter – which you will then you will go to jail. You will rot in jail.”

He always used that last comment as a scare tactic. Not once had I not paid my taxes. I was law abiding unlike him. He was terrified of authority and the police and assumed I would be the same.

I picked up the papers and had just about had enough. Sitting on my bed now, I can still hear him shouting names in the hallway.


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