No Refunds on Souls
Have you ever heard the saying “If you grew up with an angry man in your house, there will always be an angry man in your house”? If you’re like me, you vowed for that to not be the case. You and your brother held pinkies, promising that you’d never allow the other to treat their kids the way you were treated through sobs. Your big sister shielded you when your mother saw nothing wrong with the broken glass against the wall. Even as an adult, the idea of an angry dad threw you into a panic attack.
That was my growing up. My relationships were built on hypervigilance. I became a polytheist because one god wasn’t enough to protect my mother. Even when I slowly got better, learned to love and trust, that angry man was ever present. He was still on facebook. He was still on instagram, still on tiktok. He wasn’t always angry. No one can be angry for that long. And that’s what made it worse. I never knew when he was going to be my dad, and when he was going to be a rage filled monster.
Even 6 hours away I feared him. The distance only made it a little less. I was willing to do anything to get rid of this angry man. It was only logical when I ended up at the crossroads. Returning to the old religion, because nothing else worked. I dug the hole, planted the flowers, said the magic words, and within no time I was face to face with a woman.
“Never thought you’d be the type to call on me.” She crooned as she circled me. In her void-like eyes was hunger. She wanted to devour me.
“Yeah, well. You know what they say about desperate times.” I said in a weak chuckle.
“So… what can I do for you, darling? What deal are we making here?” She asked. I took a moment to think. To make sure this was what I wanted.
“I want my dad to know what he’s done. I want it to sink in, all the hurt he’s done to our family.” I needed him to know. If he could know, he could be better. He’d fix it. Because that’s what dads do. They fix things.
“You’re willing to sell your soul for this?” She asked, twirling a finger around my hair. I nod, eyes still bloodshot from a previous meltdown. She then pulled me into a kiss, sealing the deal. I kissed back, surprised that the demon’s lips were as soft as they were. I felt something inside me lurch, as if it was being pulled towards her. I stumbled back when she pulled away. “The deal is done. See you in ten years, sweetheart.”
The deal worked. Turns out, when you spend a quarter of a century terrorizing your family, and it hits you all at once, it’s hard to stomach. When they put his coffin in the ground, I knew it was my fault. Drinking my woes away, I questioned if I felt bad.
He was our dad… a heartbroken part of me argued. Even with our issues, he loved us.
Serves him right! An angrier part snapped. He couldn’t take what he did to us. Maybe he shouldn’t have let his rage take over everything!
They waged war in the coming days as I went back home. While they were waging war, I got irritable. I bitched at my roommates over small things. It continued like this, until one day, I heard his voice.
“You’re just like me, kiddo.” He sounded proud. Smug, even.“You’re acting out like I did. Isn’t so easy now that you have the rage, is it?”
“Dad, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“That wasn’t a good enough excuse when I was alive! You killed me.” I felt the anger bubble again.
“No! You did that yourself! You brought this on yourself! I wouldn’t have had to make that deal if you just fucking apologized, and took therapy seriously!” I argued.
“If you wanted me out of the way, there were other options.” My dad explained, glowering down at me.
It only took a few days of him hanging around before I found myself at the crossroads again.
“I’m surprised to see you again, my dear.” The demon said kindly.
“This is the bitch you sold your soul to?” My dad sneered in my ear.
“Yes. In case you haven’t noticed, she’s kinder than you. And she fulfills her promises.” I waved him off, before approaching the demon. “I need to undo this. I can’t continue like this. He won’t leave me.”
“It doesn’t work like that, darling.” She gently caressed my cheek. There was almost… pity, in her voice. “I wish it did, but a deal’s a deal.”
“Please, I needed him to be better! I didn’t want him dead!”
“You messed with the order of things.” She said simply. “And on something as precious as a soul? No refunds, darling. Not on this.”
“So, what do I do?” I asked her helplessly.
“What you’ve always done. You’ve dealt with him this long.” It was a sick tone of encouragement in her voice that made my stomach turn. And with that, she was gone.
If you grew up with an angry man in your house, you’ll always have an angry man in your house. I hope you’re not like me. I hope you get some peace from his yelling and beratement. I hope by carrying his ghost, I can protect my siblings like they did for me. I have 2 years left of that 10 year deal. At this rate, hell sounds like a vacation.
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2svK95wQ3DzkutQSuwywOY?si=BgsXTTVDQWiYt8wRQueqFg (As always, here's a playlist)