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were times when I hoped he was there watching me. Like the time when a teacher threw me over a chair for copying someone else’s work. When that happened, I tried to explain to him that I needed help as I was struggling with my work because of my lack of schooling, but he flipped and started calling me names. I knew that my dad would be there during my break, so I waited patiently. I smiled with absolute joy when I saw him, raced over and spilled it all out as fast as I could. He almost choked on his chocolate bar as he grabbed my arm, then rushed into the school, threatening to kill my teacher. After the longest apology I’ve ever heard to date, my father was satisfied that the teacher had grovelled enough for him to be able to walk out of the room with his chest stuck out and his head in the air.

      He took me straight home and on the way he told me that he already knew what the teacher had done. Apparently, he was on his way in to have him. When he said that he knew my every move and that I couldn’t do anything without him knowing, because he could see me all the time, he confirmed my fear that he was some kind of a psychic. The following day, when he sent me to the shop for his cigarettes, I raced off feeling happy to be out of the house alone. I got his cigarettes and on the way back I saw a cute and cuddly cat sitting on a fence. She was so shy that when I tried to call her she kept hiding her face. I stood there for about an hour, forgetting about my father’s cigarettes – and my life at home. I cherished every second as the cat got more confident and came towards me. Then it hit me: I’d committed a crime. How dare I not get his precious cigarettes to him within minutes of him asking? I quickly put her down and ran home, my heart thumping in my chest.

      When I got there, he was waiting on the doorstep with a grin on his face. I gave him his cigarettes and raced inside. Part of me knew that he was going to beat me but hoped that he wouldn’t. As he followed me up the stairs, it seemed that he was only one step behind me. He was loving it: he’d won. Giving out the craziest laugh, chuckling and squealing, he grabbed me by the hair and the games began. ‘Didn’t I tell you I could see your every move?’ My heart raced. I kept on thinking, How does he know what I’m doing? I then asked him and he said, ‘You should have left the cat alone and brought me my cigarettes.’

      Because I was only a child, I believed him and didn’t grasp that he had been watching my every move for a long time. I didn’t realise that he was just trying to keep me under his watchful eye so that I couldn’t tell anyone about him. All I felt was paranoid that he could always see me. I convinced myself that the only place I was safe from his watchful eye was under my duvet.

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