Poor Girl: Victor, Part 1

By R.J.F.

The truth doesn’t need to be exposed to bring the pieces together.

There are a lot of things that someone could hide in plain sight. In fact, Victor’s father had hidden his affair for years until he died unexpectedly on a hiking trip. Victor was fourteen when this happened.

One day, his dad went out hiking with some of his friends and everyone made it back safely except for his father. His father’s friends claimed that his father had tripped over a rock and fell down a 40 foot cliff. They called for help, but by the time the rescue crew was able to get to the group, his father had died from his injuries. All Victor could hope for was that his father had hit his head on the way down and didn’t die in total pain.

It was horrible watching his mother sob as his father’s best friend, Robert, delivered the news. Robert had told the police that he wanted to break the news to Victor’s mother. Maybe he felt responsible for his father’s death, or maybe it was just a courtesy. Robert was still covered in dirt from trying to climb down the cliff; Victor could see a tiny twig dangling off the back of Robert’s head, and that his hands were completely covered in cuts as he tried to console Victor’s mother.

A couple of weeks went by before his mother held his father’s funeral. It was then that Victor was approached by a woman, a woman that he recognized from his father’s accounting firm, a woman who was sobbing just as hard as his mother was. She hugged Victor and whispered, “Your dad was the most amazing man that I ever knew. He loved you so so much, so much,” and then she walked away. Her floral perfume had rubbed off on Victor’s blazer, something he hated.

That’s when Victor knew. He recognized that scent from his father’s car, from some of his work clothes in the hamper, and even in his father’s office when he had visited him for lunch during his last winter break from school. His father had had an affair with this grieving woman, right underneath his family and his coworker’s noses. Victor didn’t need hard proof of it; he could feel it in his gut.

Victor decided that he wasn’t going to bring this up to his mother. For all Victor knew, she might’ve known all along about the affair. Maybe his mother was cheating, too. Maybe his whole life was a lie. At that point, Victor didn’t care enough to make a scene. His father was dead, and now a large chunk of his soul was dead, too.


And that’s how it started for Victor, his mistrust and anger in everyone. Whenever his mother would take them to go visit his father’s grave, he would look at the headstone cynically while his mother bent over to pick the weeds that had grown since their last visit. She would talk out loud about what had been going on in their lives. She would talk about herself and how she’s been trying to “keep her chin up”, she would talk about Victor and how he was doing at school. She would softly weep into her tissues and wrap her arm around Victor’s shoulder. Victor always wondered if this was just an act because it seemed performative to him.

When she was done saying her part, she would look over at Victor and say, “Victor, do you want to try talking to your dad? I know you might think he can’t hear you, but I’m sure that he can.”

He was bothered at the sight of her tear stained face. He was bothered that she so lovingly cleaned up his father’s gravesite, just like she had so lovingly picked up his dirty socks off the floor when he was alive. He started to regard his mother with a secret hatred. He thought she was blind and stupid for not realizing that her husband had been cheating on her before his death. He was annoyed that she dragged him to his father’s grave.

Victor would look away and shake his head no. Besides what he was feeling towards his mother, what could he possibly say to his father? Fuck you. You suck. Why did you have to die? Why did you have an affair? In Victor’s mind, it didn’t matter what he may or may not say at the grave of his father. There was never going to be peace in Victor’s heart because his father’s death and his mother’s ignorance had robbed him of ever having that.


Victor had learned to live with his growing hatred towards his mother. He figured it was just par for the course when you’re living under a roof with someone who was so incredibly stupid. His mother had noticed that Victor was cold and distant throughout his teen years, but she figured it was because of everything that had happened, coupled with being a teen. She never suspected that her son secretly hated her, that he would stare at his ceiling for hours on end almost every day, dreaming of the day he would ditch her, or kill her.

She had caught him one time looking at her with such rage that it made her freeze right where she stood in the kitchen doorway. Victor had come home late from school, it was almost 9pm, and she stood in front of him before he could escape to his bedroom, the cave.

“Hey, where have you been? I’ve been so worried about you! How could you have not called or let me know where you were? God damnit, Victor, I’m your mother and you have to respect the rules!” She didn’t like feeling scared about his whereabouts, but coming home this late had started to become a bad habit of Victor’s, and she needed to put an end to it.

He was standing by the kitchen table, his hands clenched so tight that his knuckles were turning white. His eyes were filled with so much hatred at that moment, and then he suddenly smiled. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t unclench his fists, but his smile grew wider. Even Victor didn’t know why he was smiling, but he could tell by the look on his mother’s face that it was unnerving to her, so he didn’t stop.

“W-well, what do you have to say to me,” she meekly inquired.

Victor unclenched his fists, adjusted his posture a bit, and softly said, “Sorry,” then strode past her. He knew that she was frightened of him and he liked it.

That was the only time his mother ever confronted Victor about anything, and it would most certainly be the last time. She didn’t like how the encounter had made her feel, didn’t like how unsafe she felt in that moment, and so she decided to let him do what he wanted from that time forward.

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Poor Girl: Victor, Part 2

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The Visit