It had been twenty-four years since she’d last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. She had stood right there by the end of the steps, unable to take the final few steps and ring the knocker. Sensationally, her stomach was in her mouth and her heartbeat in her ears, the past and the present streaming simultaneously in vividity consequently each overlapping the other because even after all this time everything was still the same. The wind whistled calmly, bristling her hair as if to usher her forward towards the verandah she remembered so vividly. The chipped edge on the step that had scarred her knee still had the same menace to it. It was by this same step that she had let the first boy who was smitten with her attempt to slosh their lips together, albeit rather horribly.  She edged down with warm tears in her eyes as she grasped the earth with dry and trodden sand slipping through her rosy slender fingers.

When the wind stopped singing and she felt the tears begin to burn her cheeks, she knew the moment for reckoning was fast approaching. She struggled to pick herself up, feeling the immense weight of the enormous guilt holding her down. Guilt that had plagued her for over two decades, for it was here that the atrocity happened.

The metal door had a familiar ugly creak to it. The dull rhythmic thud that accompanied it though was unfamiliar. “Well, aren’t you going to come in?” The sadness that was enveloping her heart stuttered to a halt.  “Don’t stand out there in the cold Ariel. You’ll get a warm cup of tea and the chocolate muffins you always liked.” Even after all this time, her voice and accent still had its characteristic nasality to her mother tongue. She had put on a few pounds around the middle though, and the spectacles and wooden walking stick were definitely a newer touch. She clutched it firmly as she stood on the front porch that was once filled with well tendered petunias.

Ariel picked up her suitcase by its handle and took those final few steps, slowly dragging it past the metal door into the dimly lit farmhouse. It had been her house once. She had navigated its rooms and corridors, found and hidden secrets under its floorboards and walls yet here she now stood a stranger to its mysteries once. Permanence it seemed would always evade her. There was an uneasy silence as they took that flight of stairs. Her mother led and she followed, like she always had when she was little. They always walked in silence to the second room on the right where she would tuck her in and turn off the lights with a soft goodnight before retreating to her room. The color had aged somewhat, peeled off in some places but nevertheless, it seemed in prime condition for its unoccupied state.

“Aren’t you going to even try and talk to me? Where have you been living for all these years? Did you find a husband in the city?” urged her mother whose voice now sounded more adenoidal than usual. . She was on a roll now. There seemed to be no point in interjecting. Reassurance also had not been a particular quality that had grown on Ariel. You could obviously see her best years were behind her. With her winter white hair, blood flecked eyes and her time worn face. She also seemed paler, older somewhat if you could believe it. The lines around her eyes were deeper and there was a slight shake to the hand that was gripping the wooden stick. Old age was not being very kind to her. “I’m sorry mum, I should have come sooner, “Ariel murmured as she edged closer to hold her.

“You could have called. You could have sent a letter or visited when you settled.” She edged on, picking up pace in frustration. “I am too old to move around looking for you in the city. I would have made sure to bury you before I went to my grave.” The deep sadness was returning with every second her mother spent peering into her brown eyes

Ariel began to stammer, trying to gather her thoughts into words. She had practiced this moment, thinking of every possible answer she may say just for this moment. Now that she was here, she couldn’t conjure up the courage to utter a sane word. The tears came without warning. It was becoming hard to breathe. Her mother though seemed more versed in these matters for without a word, she grabbed her and enveloped her in a sweaty embrace. As her arms squeezed in, holding Ariel tighter making her breathe more slowly. And she melted into her mom’s body, her every muscle losing its tension to that very moment. Slowly, all her worries faded away and for a split second, she knew it would be okay. The olive branch had been extended, Ariel began to feel herself calm down. She had passed the first test

“The others are waiting, let us hurry back.” The tightness in her chest quickly returned. It was as she had expected dead silence. Everyone had been waiting to see who her mother would return with, so naturally conversations had been staved off when they walked in. Then the staring began. This room was bigger than she remembered. It had probably been cleared out. Seats had been lined up in neat rows and all of them were taken, its occupants trying and failing to modestly look back at the prodigal daughter. “Ariel, you haven’t aged a day. Come sit over here,” a voice proffered. It sounded oddly familiar but Ariel had had enough familiarity for one day. “Ariel, I’m right here,” It continued but she was already turning to move away. “I think I’ll head back upstairs. I don’t feel so good,” Ariel said to her mother but she countered, “Aren’t you going to see him first?” Mother asked as she glared firmly at Ariel who was deep in thought pondering her next move as if she was a pawn on a chess board. Multiple goosebumps arose as sharp chills drove down her spine as she suddenly remembered the main reason why she was here. What she was trying to avoid all these years. For the fourth time that day Ariel felt the dread cling to her again .She suddenly felt afraid and instantly regretted it.

“Will you come with me? “Ariel asked her mother who was now obviously exhausted. The pain from her hip was taking a toll on her. She had not stood this long for quite some time and it was only a matter of time before her walking stick would also give up on her. She seemed paler too. Her movements were slower. It seemed she was at her limit. Their pace was slow. It almost seemed like a bridal procession, only she was getting handed to the dead. She could look more attentively at the guests. Most of them, she had grown up around and with. She could speak for most of them but the odd one or two were in quite the attendance today. She couldn’t help but feel almost a twinge of pride. Her father was what you would call famous. He was invested in a lot of business opportunities in the area and almost everyone fell over backwards to kiss his ring. Yet even after all that fame and privilege, here he now lay, in an ornate gold plated box and all the money in the world wasn’t going to get him out of it.

Maybe he had realized how futile his name and worth were. Perhaps that would help to explain away his need to constantly be in a stupor whenever he was at home. Perhaps he couldn’t stand to be a family man. That would explain why he would always find a way to make his fists connect with her mother’s face, sometimes ribs and even occasionally her belly, usually with a glass or bottle of some foreign hard liquor in hand. All the money in the world couldn’t make him not find a way to take issue with everything her mother did. . Perhaps that was why Ariel was always crying as she hid beneath the floorboards or walls when his rage found him. He recognized nothing and no one when he was like this. Yet here he was, a contribution to the modern success of their society. As far as their society was concerned, they were just a small cost they were willing to pay in the long run for their dogged wins. That fact they verified when they managed to find a way to not interfere when he was beating her mother to death repeatedly in full view. A bitter pill she had swallowed from very early on, not all lives were worth the same.

As they made their way towards the void deck, they were met with piercing eyes that stretched all through the gang way. She had grown up with most of these people. Most of which knew her struggle and the pain her father had caused them. She knew why they were here, not to pay any last respect, but to glorify the end of an era, a dictations era that not only brought terror but also seething pain that pushed her mother even closer to cashing her chips; but only left her at the mercy of that walking stick for the rest of her life.

She remembers it like it was yesterday. A warm Saturday afternoon with calm rays of sunshine peering through window sills emanating still silhouettes of happiness. The weekly farm market had just closed and they were heading home after a long day of purchasing fresh farm produce. There she was, hopping playfully with her hand interlocked in her mums as they neared their farm house verandah. And there he was, staring menacingly at them ready to pounce.

Ariel’s father, was a drunk, plain and simple. Most days he would wake up to a shot of whisky and chasing others with rum. By noon he was slurring his words and soon after he would pass out in his own piss. He never left the house, why would he? Everything he wanted or rather everything he desired came easy to him. How you may ask? His temper was not only legendary but also dangerous. Dangerous enough to leave broken pieces of glass and fist prints across every wall in that house. Some of which were present to this day. When he wasn’t punching walls, he was punching his submissive wife like a Cherokee drum.

This day wasn’t any different. Like an angry bull in an arena, he was a man possessed.

“Where have you been your ungrateful hag?” He shouted angrily slamming his fist against the wooden frame. The bottle of whisky on his other hand wobbling dangerously.

“I asked you a question. Where the hell have you been?” He bellowed again, this time smashing the bottle of whisky on the ground leaving only the sharp tip exposed. Ariel was crying at this point, confused and afraid not knowing what to do. She had witnessed this before, but this time he had gone too far. All her screams could not help her sweet mother from the kicks and blows. Not even the onlookers and neighbors lifted a finger to help. Ariel watched helplessly as her mother was clobbered and maimed. She hoped it would end, she cried and begged and with every scream, she thought she would cry her lungs out. Eventually it all stopped and everything went silent.

He was now finally resting in the casket.it gleamed in the early morning light that streamed through the windows.it was also deliberately crafted not to bring comfort for the afterlife for he was a man destined to suffer for the harm he had caused. You could tell that it was not built from love but grave animosity. All this could not reduce the trauma, but it was a first step. His drinking days had finally caught up with him, and he was a batterer no more.

“I will never leave you again mother”, Ariel whispered as welled up tears trickled down her cheeks; All the while staring at the corpse of the man she had once called dad seething with anger and regret.

Clasping her walking stick firmly, she walked back into the living room to start the proceeding of the wake. She was safe now, and that was all that mattered.