Dodged The Bullet...Sort Of

The wall clock ticking away showed the time to be 8.30 p.m. I was sitting at my desk and was as usual researching scholarship information on my laptop.

"Kyrie....Kyrie....Kyrie...," I heard a familiar voice calling out outside of my house.
"Damn!" I thought, knowing too well it was my 'dear' Uncle Bas, my late father's older brother, one of my crazy relatives who all have made my life a living hell ever since my dad died.
I contemplated the thought of not answering him, not opening the door.

"Kyrie! Kyrie! KYRIEEE!!" the calls grew louder.

"Shit!" I cursed under my breath and slowly went outside to greet him.
" I am an expert at digging my own grave," I thought as I unwillingly unlocked my front door.

"Why didn't you answer any of our phone calls? Did you switch off your cell phone?"

"Why did not you open the door when Uncle Tim came? You were hiding inside the the house that day, weren't you? "

"Why are you behaving like this?"
I was immediately greeted by a barrage of questions.

"Uncle Tim and I are really angry with you. When people come to visit you, you don't treat them like this, " he continued.
Has he forgotten how Uncle Tim made me sit in the damp, dark bus station for more than 3 hours each time I had to attend scholarship and college interviews in his city. That bus station in the heart of the city was a magnet for drug addicts and shifty characters, and I had sat there shivering and scared sometimes into the wee hours of the morning. I never knew my way around that big city and I had to depend on him. When I had tried calling him on his cell after 2 hours elapsed the first time I visited, he screamed at me that I didn't understand how bad the traffic in that city was but he still had not left home. When he finally did came, he had started screaming at me that I should not expect him to come immediately at my calling. " Who did you think you are? The President's daughter waiting for her limo?" he screamed.

I thought grimly of Uncle Tim 'welcoming' receptions everytime I had visited him and stared ahead at Uncle Bas stoically as he continued on with his lecture on how bad I had treated my relatives by avoiding them altogether.
I suddenly found my backbone and surprised myself and Uncle Bas by answering back, " How about all the times that they have treated me badly since dad died!"

Uncle Bas was taken aback for a second by my newly found bravado, but in truth I was shaking inside, jittery and scared, brought on by my repressed memories of youth at that second.

"You must learn to adjust and accustom yourself to such treatments because of your situation. Your dad is not alive and you are left with nothing, so you must learn how to humble yourself and receive such treatments without questioning," he answered back.
"That is how it is when you are in the real world and interact with the people, so get used to it," he continued.
"Because of the way you all have treated me, I have given up on people in general. I rather keep to myself, " I interjected.
"And is it acceptable how Uncle Nick and Uncle Tim made me miss my exams in December? I lost my scholarship and do you know how ill I have become as I keep thinking back on their hurtful words that day in December," I continued.
He softened a bit and said, " You should not dwell on other people's words so much. Get used to it or if you keep thinking about everything for so long you will drive yourself crazy."
"Would you all have treated me like this if my dad was alive? You know he would have never allowed it," I raised my voice a notch.

Uncle Bas started to say that Uncle Tim has been pestering for me to apologize to Uncle Tim but stopped midway.
"You used to be so happy once. What happened?" he asked as if he did not know.
"I am getting old, so please don't avoid my calls," he suddenly changed his tune of approach. He actually managed to limp a bit as he walked slowly back to his car. I entered my house but as I was locking my door, I looked up and saw that the limp was gone and he was strutting quickly across my lawn. I shook my head and chided myself for believing him.
I guess I escaped a more long and hurtful lecture this time because Uncle Bas was really surprised at how I was able to talk back after all this years for the first time in a firm manner.

This happened nearly 2 weeks back few days after my nightmares about his visit.
His visit still shook me and I was a bundle of nerves for some days. My relatives always managed to initiate a lingering fear and confusion within me, with all the past hurtful experiences of my youth resurfacing again from my buried memories.