Vlantina Toma
Stories (1/0)
Life as an Arab father
*PoP pOp* I was standing in the kitchen, waiting for my triple butter popcorn to stop heating in the microwave, when I noticed Sophie approach hesitantly into the kitchen from the corner of my eye. I sensed she was about to ask me a question that would most likely result in a no. “Baba, may I ask if I could go ice skating with Dora for a few hours tomorrow?” As soon as I heard the name Dora, my body stiffened and I knew I would have to say no right away. I know Dora is Sophie's best friend, but I have the impression she has a negative influence on Sophie; in fact, I can tell from Sophie's expression that Dora forced her to come and ask me. It was my obligation as a father to keep my children safe, *ahem* I cleared my throat and told her, "I'm not sure why you bothered to ask, it's going to be a no Sophie...." As I answered her question, the tension in my body began to ease; nevertheless, when I looked at Sophie's face, it became pale and tears began to fall down her cheeks; she immediately spun around and walked to her room. Everyone knows everyone in my tradition, and while Sophie is still in high school, she will do anything she can to shame our family if I don't keep her under control, especially with Dora. Even while I felt like I was doing my job as a father by doing what was best for her, I also felt like a poor father for never allowing Sophie to do what she wanted. After the popcorn in the microwave had finished, I grabbed a tin bowl and poured the popcorn into it. I took a chunk and placed it into my mouth. I could taste butter with salty flakes just melting in my mouth with a soft creamy feeling, the taste reminded me of all of the earlier times Sophie wanted to go places, particularly her wanting to go to the beach. She always asked me to go places when I was in a good mood, eating popcorn about to watch my arabic tv show "SuperStar", I remembered feeling guilty as I watched Sophie miss out on what everyone else was doing that day, but I couldn't bear the thought of her going somewhere with a bunch of stupid kids to a place I wasn't familiar with. I grabbed the popcorn bowl, carried it into Sophie's room. When I opened the door, she was lying face down, trying not to appear as if she had been crying. I walked into her room quietly, placed the bowl on the bedside table for her to eat from, and then perched on the edge of her bed, staring at her whilst stroking her leg. “Sophie, you know I don't hate you when I say all these things to you; I'm simply trying to be a decent father by teaching you that everyone has boundaries and tasks to do,” I said, smiling. She gave me a look, she just wanted to cry even harder this time. I did not try to make more actions. Thoughts were rushing through my head. I felt bad for her I did not know what to do. I was simply just trying to be a good father. "You always control my life father, you always make it seem like you have no trust in me." she said with her eyes sobbing in tears. Felt like I was in control, having my own child speak up for themselves like that.
By Vlantina Toma2 years ago in Fiction