When Amelia’s father gave her a soap bar and told her to take cold showers with it, she never thought he had an evil, hidden agenda behind it.
Her world turned upside down when her boyfriend told her the horrifying truth about that soap.
I’ve always been Daddy’s little girl, but now I feel like throwing up when I say those words.
I’m not his little girl, and he’s not the man I always thought he was. Let me tell you why.So, I’ve always been close to my father, like REALLY close.
I’m 23, and I lived with my parents up until a month ago because Dad never wanted me to move away.
He had given me the second floor of the house where I had my bedroom and a bathroom. Those two rooms of the house solely belonged to me.
They were my safe space until the day Dad began to complain.
My father is one of those people with a personality resembling a coconut.
You know, hard on the outside and soft on the inside.
He has these strict rules and principles that he abides by, but he also has this empathy inside that makes him the best Dad ever.
“Character is built in discomfort,” he’d always tell me. “You gotta face the worst now if you want a life full of luxuries ahead.”
But he’d also buy me chocolates and ice cream on days I didn’t feel good.Meanwhile, my mother has always been the typical loving mom.
She’s always ready for hugs and kisses and never says no whenever I ask her to cook my favorite pasta.
She has always been a sweetheart.However, I recently felt that my parents were not the same anymore.
Over the past few months, they had grown cold, and the love and care had suddenly vanished.
Honestly, I sometimes felt like I was living with two strangers in the house. It felt like we had lost the connection we always had.
Then began the unnecessary complaints and nitpicking from Dad’s side.
“You and your friends were too loud last night!”
“You’re staying out too late, Amy.” “You’re spending too much on unnecessary things!”
Then came the complaint that really snatched my self-confidence.”You smell horrible, go take a cold shower and use the soap I gave you!”
I smell horrible? What? I thought.
Where did that come from? That was the day when Dad handed me this soap I had never seen before.
It was a green, chunky soap bar that smelled a bit weird, but Dad had asked me to use it, assuring it would help get rid of the unpleasant body odor.
His words made me feel so self-conscious that I had even stopped hanging out with my boyfriend, Henry.
I often found myself smelling my skin, clothes, hair, and even my breath, just to check what made my father feel so uncomfortable around me.
I followed his advice and used that soap whenever I took a shower. Or, if I may put it correctly, I took five showers a day just to use that soap and get rid of the smell that had apparently been haunting my father.
I scrubbed my skin so hard that I stripped it of the moisture it needed.
My skin had begun to look dry, scaly, and so rough.
Even then, my father said I still smelled like rotten onions.”Did you use that soap, Amy? I don’t think you did,” he’d say. “You smell so bad.”
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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