Distorted Innocence

That night, after nearly a decade of freedom, Anu dreamt of his childhood. The wooden cottage by the tropical beach, laden with shimmering seashells and humid breeze. His father stood in his swimsuit, with a body toned enough to put the athletes to shame. While his mother, clad in a sun-kissed kaftan, sat by the house, waving at the two.

He was five at the time, brimming with innocence and an ambition to dream. His skin prickled by the piercing sunrays, as he sauntered towards the sea. The melody of buzzing cicadas entwined with the rhythmic rolling of waves called for him. It had been too long.

“Anu, why don’t you try to swim?” His father tapped on his shoulder. His eyes meandered towards him, his vision slowly dimming. He could see his sun-kissed, dusky skin, but blinded by the sun, his father’s face was veiled in shadow.

“Papa?” He asked, his head tilting slightly.

“Swimming…” his father continued, waving his arms to and fro. “You will love it just like me.”

“Papa, I can’t,” Anu tried to reason, blinking rapidly as he tried to blink away the tears that were forming. “The waves are scary…”

“Blasphemy,” his father barked out a sharp laugh, as he grabbed onto his wrist. “It’s the same as yesterday. You were doing pretty well.”

Anu’s legs trembled as he felt a tug forward, and his eyes glinted with panic. The waves roared, ascending the scale abruptly. There were whispers—angry, judgmental, humiliating—all pointed towards him.

“I heard his father would beat his mother. Poor child,” Venomously murmured a lady in her forties. In her arm, she carried a grocery bag filled with lighter.

“But the mother always seemed so happy,” Another lady, in an equally venomous tone, snickered, “Shouldn’t she be crying or calling for help?”

“You haven’t heard? The mother is only enduring for the money,” She whispered, giggling, the bangles on her arm rattled, releasing a screech.

“True, after all, the father was an Olympian?”

“But didn’t he get into an accident?”

“That’s what they say,” The lady with the bangles swelled into laughter, her tone menacing. She was evil, Anu could see. Her eyes were scarlet, her lips laden with blood. In Greek mythos, he had heard of Sirens; today, he was looking at one. "But in reality, it was a case of doping."

“What?” The second lady gasped in amusement.

“And what’s more, he was even accused of match fixing.”

“No wonder he has accumulated such a fortune.”

“Shameless fortune.”

“Anu?” The father shook his shoulder. His face was still dark, though his tone was laced with unease.

Anu didn’t reply; he stood there reviewing the reasons why he ended up here again. His face went pale, his heart thumped faster, and his chest expanded until he could barely breathe. He felt small again. A disappointment.

In the distance, he heard glass shatter; the beach was no longer, nor were there waves crashing on the shore. The cottage burnt in solidarity, with the flame swirling in a majestic leap. Over it were silhouettes of the two ladies, burning as their shadows cast a vile cacophony of laughter.

“Disappointment!” They sang in chorus. “Disappointment of one, disappointment of two. The son is always a disappointment.”

From behind him, he heard a loud creak, followed by a violent rattle over the knob. There was a loud thud as the door grinded at its hinges and burst open. From within it stepped out his father, the face still wreathed in shadows. His body was smeared with grease, and his breath stank of alcohol as he held the splintered glass bottle.

Anu finally smiled. He felt relieved. This was exactly how he remembered his childhood, not of beaches and swimming, but of persecution and punishment. He was always the victim, and his father the prosecutor. As for his mother, she would hold onto the shard of hope that her husband would return.

Anu closed his eyes, the cackling of fire, cacophony of laughter, crashing of waves, whispers of the past modulated into an inhumane hiss that consumed his mind.

And then he woke up.