"After that day, Dad was never the same. He changed… no, he transformed. And even transformed is not the right word. He became someone unrecognizable. I noticed it almost immediately, but Mom did not notice until my tenth birthday."
She leaned back slowly, as though the story weighed against her spine.
"He did not help her buy my birthday gift. He did not wish me in the morning. He did not come home that night to celebrate. When Mom questioned him, he never answered. If she had forced him then, maybe things could have been fixed… but she let it go."
Aasia's tone darkened like a cloud swallowing light.
"Days later he came home reeking of alcohol. Too drunk to stand straight. When Mom tried to help him, he pushed her away. She tried again, and he slapped her. Hard. She fell into the table and a glass shattered on the floor. Pieces cut into her feet. She began bleeding."
She paused, jaw tight.
"Dad saw it. He saw her bleeding feet. And he did not worry. He did not apologize. He simply walked into his room and locked the door."
The RV filled with a tense quiet.
"That night I tried to treat Mom's wounds, but it didn't go well. She slept with bleeding feet. She didn't complain. She didn't cry."
Aasia drew a slow breath.
"The next morning I hoped everything would go back to normal. Mom and Dad were eating breakfast together. They did not fight. The whole day passed peacefully. The next day too. Even a whole week."
Her eyes dimmed.
"And when I began believing things were normal again… he came home drunk that weekend. And again he beat Mom."
Her voice thinned.
"But this time it wasn't one slap. It was many. Again and again. And it didn't stop with that weekend. Or the next. Or the one after that. It became a nightmare without end. I started wishing weekends did not exist."
Her fingers tightened around the hem of her sleeve.
"And while I wished for that… Dad's transformation grew deeper. He came home drunk on weekdays too. And every drunk day meant more beatings. But the worst part was when he began hitting Mom even when he was sober."
Isha and Obero sat completely still, eyes wide, breath held.
Aasia looked down at her hands.
"It was more terrifying when he was sober because it meant he chose it. He chose to hurt her. He would snap at the smallest things. And the beatings were always worse when he caught her smiling."
She lifted her gaze again, the stormlight casting shadows across her face.
"That was when the happiness in our house began to disappear. One piece at a time."
"There was one day," Aasia whispered, "when we took a family photo. The photographer asked Mom to smile. She did. A small, gentle smile. Nothing unusual."
Her jaw tightened.
"That night… Dad became a monster. Not metaphorically. Not emotionally. A monster. The moment we stepped into the house, he stared at Mom with an anger so dense it felt like poison filling the air. Even before he touched her, Mom was trembling. Cold sweat running down her back. Her hands shaking. She looked like someone who knew death was staring at her."
She inhaled shakily.
"Even a eleven-year-old child could felt it. The rage rolling off him. It hit me like a wall. And the first thing that flashed in my mind was the image of Mom lying on the floor with bruises all over her body… but not crying."
Aasia's voice cracked.
"Because Mom… Mom never cried."
She counted on trembling fingers.
"She never cried when he cursed her.She never cried when he humiliated her.She never cried when she burned her hands while cooking for him.She never cried while treating her own wounds.She never cried when she slept on the floor with bruises covering her whole body.She never cried when she struggled to strip off her clothes to bathe.She never cried during any of the two years he beat her."
Her throat tightened painfully.
"And even that night, when I saw the monster Dad had become, I was sure she wouldn't cry even if he beat her to death."
Aasia squeezed her hands together.
"But watching her stand there, bracing for pain with no tears, broke me. I cried before he even touched her. I cried so loudly it shocked me. Every step he took toward her made me scream louder and louder until I honestly thought I might go deaf."
She closed her eyes.
"It felt like all the tears Mom should have shed for two years were pouring out of me."
Aasia shivered at the memory.
"My crying irritated him. He turned away from Mom and started walking toward me. His fist raised. He would have punched me in the face-"
Her voice faltered.
"But Mom sprinted. She jumped in front of me and hugged me, shielding me. Dad's fist hit her back with a horrible bang. The force was so strong that even I felt it beneath her."
Her hands slowly rose to her chest as if feeling that impact again.
"We knew it wouldn't end with one blow. Mom closed her eyes, clenched her teeth, preparing herself for the next punch. I tried to brace myself too, but my tears and screaming wouldn't stop."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"And then… we heard it. A faint wail. Behind us. Memories blur here, but we stayed frozen, waiting… waiting for the second hit."
She swallowed hard.
"When nothing came, Mom turned. I peeked through the gap in her arms."
Her voice trembled violently.
"What I saw… I never imagined something like that even in nightmares."
Her eyes glazed, distant.
"Dad was kneeling. Kneeling on the floor. His face devastated. Tears pouring down like rivers. His cheeks were bright red, soaked through. His clothes drenched. He looked like his soul had been ripped out. He cried so loudly it shook his entire body. And he kept apologizing… over and over… even while Mom and I hugged him."
Aasia's breath quivered.
"But even then, Mom didn't cry. She just stroked his shoulder, looking sad and warm and exhausted. Dad eventually fell asleep on her lap. And I fell asleep next to him, believing… truly believing… the dark days were finally over."
She laughed, one broken, hopeless sound.
"The next morning, everything felt normal again. Too normal. Dad was the sweetest father. He dropped me at school every day, played with me, bought gifts, laughed with us. Mom looked happy again. For a moment, it felt like we were a healed family."
Aasia's eyes narrowed, pained.
"In that time, Dad took two weeks' leave from work. I had vacation too. So we went on a long trip. Our first big family trip."
She smiled faintly, almost lovingly.
"I was so excited. I thought I would remember everything forever. Mom and Dad smiling. Playing. The warmth of their arms around me. Their laughter echoing. I thought those memories would last a lifetime."
Her smile slowly died.
"But now… I can't remember the places we visited. Sometimes I feel like we never went at all. The only memories left are fragments. Me reading 'Rainbow Park' on an entrance gate. A huge waterfall where Mom and I tried to bathe. Me on Dad's lap in the driver's seat while Mom panicked. The green forest stretching forever from the hilltop."
She lowered her gaze.
"Those memories feel like dreams. Beautiful dreams inside a nightmare."
Her fingers dug into her arms.
"And the reason I know the trip wasn't a dream… is because of the Dad I saw after it."
A chill passed through her body, making her shoulders shake.
"The Dad I loved all my childhood… died after that trip. Something else came home in his place."