I remembered his insults, the beatings, the bruises. But with my overall to hide what's left of him behind my head,and my tongue out, which the whole world felt was my signature, but instead was a message; A message to a monstrous father. I now smile. I smile at the past.My name is Ann, but the world calls me "Dj. Mahama." A word i coined from Mamah;She made my dreams come true. If She had stay with my father, I should be dead.I would be dead.He was a monster and everything I did was wrong in his eyes. He didn't see any reason why I had to cut my hair short, even though i preferred it, For that I got a beaten. Whenever I snuck out to go Dj at a friend's party, my mother would be there to tend to my wounds. He wanted a lawyer as a child. I was far from it. And when I finally got my freedom, he had smashed my head on wall, it was graphic, mother rushed me to hospital after tying a cloth around my head. She lied to the Dr. She didn't wanna get papa arrested. But we didn't go back home. We never went back. Now, life was good to us, my career kicked off and I am on the face of every bill board in the country with a message to my father. A message he only understands.
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