“Call me Dad,” he said.
“Mum, are you taking his side again?” Emily stood rigidly in front of her mother, her lips trembling as tears threatened to spill.
“Emily, what do you mean, *again*? And besides, you’re wrong in this! Youre completely wrong, love!” retorted Irene, the girls mother.
“Mum, that was *my* food! We had an agreement, and Im not some millionaire who can feed strangers!” Emily shot back, barely holding back her tears now.
“Ungrateful little madam! I raised you, fed you, and now youre begrudging a bit of cheese and ham?!” came the half-drunk shout from the living roomNigel, Emilys stepfather.
“Exactly! Arent you ashamed?” Irene backed up her husband.
Emily buried her face in her hands. The tears wouldnt stay back any longer. These days, her life had become nothing short of a nightmare…
…Emilys father had left when she was barely three. As Irene later explained, she and Williamthat was his namehad never really loved each other. A short-lived fling had led to Irenes pregnancy, and Williams parents pressured him into marriage. But with no love between them, the marriage crumbled. They struggled through two years before William simply packed his bags and walked out.
Irene devoted herself entirely to raising her daughter, and for years, it was just the two of themuntil Emily turned twelve. One morning, Irene sat her down for a serious talk.
“Emily, youre not a little girl anymoreyou understand things…” Irene began tentatively.
“Yeah,” Emily answered uncertainly.
“Ive met someone. Were in love. Weve decided to marry, and hell be moving in soon. You dont mind, do you?”
Emily wasnt thrilled, but she wasnt upset either. She knew plenty of kids at school had stepdads, and they survived. No big deal, right?
But the moment Nigel stepped into their flat, Emily disliked himhis looks, his manner, everything.
“You can call me Dad,” he announced immediately.
Emily nodded silently, but she never once used the word “Dad” for him. From the start, Nigel made it clear: “I wasnt spoiled as a kid, so I wont be spoiling any child.” His arrival marked the beginning of a miserable new life for Emily.
“Mum, Im going to the library with Anna, then well go for a walk,” Emily said one day.
“Oh, listen to her, giving orders! Irene, youre letting this brat walk all over you. Shell have you wrapped around her finger next!” Nigel snapped.
“Im *not* a brat!” Emily protested, but Irene just kept washing dishes in silence.
“Dont you backchat me! One hourlibrary and straight home. If youre not back by three, youll be standing in the corner on dried peas. See if you like mouthing off then!” Nigel ranted.
“Mum, I *am* going out!” Emily insisted.
“Love, listen to your father. He *is* the head of the house,” Irene replied.
From then on, the only thing Emily looked forward to was Nigels business trips. Then she could breathesee her mates, have them over, just *live* without walking on eggshells.
…Six long years passed. Emily turned eighteen and got into university, thinking *finally*, freedom. Shed get a dorm room, move out, escape the flat that had become unbearable.
But reality hit hard.
“Dorms are only for out-of-town students. No spaces left,” they told her and the others hoping for a room.
“Shouldve gone to uni in another city,” Emily muttered, trudging home.
By mid-September, she befriended two course matesboth desperate to move out too. They found a tiny one-bed flat to split three ways.
“Mum, I want to live on my own. Its closer to uni, and”
“Over my dead body! Next thing, youll be turning it into someGod knows whatbringing lads over, skipping lectures!” Nigel cut in.
“Whats it to *you*?” Emily shot back.
“Excuse me?! Thats no way to speak to your father! Your student loan wont cover rent, will it? Your mums on part-time, my wages got cut, and *you* want a flat? Not a penny from me!”
“Ill earn it myself!” Emily yelled before slamming her bedroom door.
But evening jobs were scarce, and the dream of independence faded fast.
One morning, shouting from the hallway woke her. She stepped out to see Nigel hugging some bloke.
“Emily, meet my son from my first marriageDave. Lived with his mum in the countryside, but hes moving in with us now,” Nigel announced.
“Where? Weve only got two bedrooms!”
“Salright, Ill crash on the kitchen fold-out till we sort something,” Dave said with a smirk.
Emily was horrified. She confronted Irene later.
“Mum, how are four of us supposed to live in this tiny flat?”
“Well manage, love. Where theres a will…”
“Are you *serious*?”
“Emily, were living off Nigels money. I wont rock the boat. Dave stays.”
Now the kitchen was Daves bedroom. No space to eat breakfast. Emily left hungry, only to return to Nigel and Dave already at the table.
“Oi, sis, come sit with us!” Dave called once as she walked in.
“Piss off!”
“Thats no way to speak to your elders!” Nigel slurred.
“Dad, chill. Emily, come here.” Dave grabbed her shoulders.
“Get *off* me!” She wrenched free and fled to her room in tears.
That night, she cried herself to sleep. By morning, she had a plan.
“Mum, didnt Dad buy this flat for us?”
“Well… yes.”
“So its partly mine?”
“Legally, its mine, but Wait, why?”
“I dont want *him* or his son here. They should leave!”
“You ungrateful little Not another penny from me! Buy your own foodspend your loan on clothes, why dont you!” Nigel roared.
Emily started buying her own meals, saving every pound. But Nigel and Dave kept helping themselves to her foodespecially her cheese and ham.
That was the last straw.
“Mum, if Im so wrong, buy your own food. Pay me back for what you took, and Ill leave!”
“Like hell! Pack your things and *go*!”
Done with it all, Emily shoved her things into a bag and walked out.
She crashed at her mate Sophies for a while, then switched to part-time studies, got a job, and never looked back.
Nearly a year later, she spotted her mum leaving a dorm.
“Mum? What are you doing here?”
“Living here,” Irene said after a pause.
“What? What about the flat?”
“Oh, love… After you left, Nigel convinced me to sign the flat over to himsaid itd stop you making claims. And like a fool, I agreed. Then Dave started bringing girls into *your* room. One day, I came home to some woman in *my* bed.”
“What did you do?”
“What *could* I do? The flats his. The police said I could stayIm on the leasebut the transfers legal. How could I live like that? I begged for this dorm room at work. Wanted to tell you… but couldnt.”
Emily sighed. “Well.”
“Dont hate me. I lost us both a home. This is my punishment.”
Emily tried to comfort her, then left. That evening, she returned to her own placesmall, shared with Sophie, but *hers*. Clean, peaceful, safe.
She still talks to Irene, but keeps her distance. Irene mentions divorce, fighting for half the flat. Emily listens, but stays out of it. Shes done with the mess. Shes tired.