you're reading...

Stop Seeing Her! By C.p.Singleton. ©2012

Stop Seeing Her! By C.p.Singleton. ©2012


‘I want you to stop seeing her!’ Sarah said angrily.

Cameron could not believe he was having this row again.

He had been asleep, hadn’t he? He was sure for one moment that the warm, motherly hands of dreamland had hugged him gently.

He opened his tired eyes to the night -shrouded room. The silhouette of her face was hovering close to his.

He jumped slightly.

‘Don’t pretend you were asleep.’ She said.

‘I was a-fucking-sleep.’

His eyes began to slowly focus into the near-dark. The faint orange glow of the lamp-light, up the street, filtering through the bedroom curtains, lent him the ability to pick out her taught features.

‘Whatever,’ she began sternly. ‘I want you to stop seeing her.’

‘Have we not gone over this?’ He replied, sitting up with the weight of exhaustion fighting his shoulders. ‘From seven O’clock last night to…’

Cameron checked the time on the bedside digital clock.

‘…Fucking three O’clock in the morning!’ He told her, his voice rising with each syllable. ‘Why can’t we just drop this?’

‘Because it’s not right. You have me and my kids, what do you need to see her for?’

‘You know why, Sarah.’

Cameron rubbed his face and then through his short, dark, hair in frustration. This had been going on for far too long.

‘We were fine until she turned up.’ Sarah mumbled and flopped back against her pillow like a stroppy child.

‘No, we weren’t.’ Cameron replied. ‘We weren’t fine, Sarah. You were fine. I could never get her out of my head. There’s always been something you’ve wanted me to change. I stopped going out with my mates for you. I stopped going to football on Saturdays for you. I took your kids on…’


‘No buts, Sarah. I have given up a lot for us. Without a single complaint. All I ask is this one thing.’

‘It’s not one thing. You see her every bloody Sunday!’

‘It’s not every Sunday. I didn’t see her last Sunday.’

‘Oooh, One bloody Sunday missed.’

‘I spend all week with you and the kids. We eat together. We watch fucking telly together. We go shopping together. For fuck’s sake Sarah!’

‘There’s no need to shout, Cameron, the kids have school in the morning.’

‘Really? I have work in the morning, but that doesn’t stop you keeping me awake with this shit.’

‘I just want you to stop seeing her.’

‘Why?! She’s my daughter, Sarah. ‘

Cameron’s accustomed eyes flicked around the room and settled on the suitcase, sitting on top of the wardrobe.

He sighed heavily. For the first time in a long time he imagined himself filling it with…

‘I asked you why,’ Sarah hissed insistently.

‘Because of her bleedin’ mother I had no contact with her for nearly twenty years…’

‘You can’t make up for that, by indulging her.’

‘I can try, Sarah! You’re a mother, surely you should understand!’

‘You’re shouting again!’

Cameron shook his tired head, threw himself out of bed and stomped towards the curtained window.

‘I can’t carry on like this, Sarah. We can’t go on like this.’

‘Are you choosing her over us?’

‘Sarah,’ sighed Cameron. ‘I only want to see my daughter.’

He poked his head through the thin curtain and looked out at the cold, quiet night outside. It seemed to calm him. The normally busy street was still. The cars parked in neat, sleepy rows.

‘I don’t want to lose you, Cam’.

Cameron watched next door’s tabby hop, gracefully, over his garden gate. Thick flakes fluttered out of the heavy sky and began to softly blot the pathways and road.

‘I don’t want to lose you, either, Sarah, but you need to stop this…this…jealousy.’ Cameron told her, whilst pressing his head against the cold window-pain.

‘You think I’m jealous of her?’

‘Yes. Yes I do,’ Cameron turned away from the quiet scene, outside. ‘God knows why, but I need you to stop and let me see my daughter. Get to know her. Let her get to know the kids.’

‘You should have enough with me and the kids.’

Cameron sighed.

He now knew this would never end.



The doorbell rang loudly.

After a few moments heavy footsteps could be heard descending stairs.

The door was carefully opened.

‘Could I stay the night, please Rach’?.’ Cameron asked, shaking with the cold. ‘We’ve split up.’

His coat and woolly hat were thick with snow.

‘’Course you can, Dad. Come in. You must be freezing.’

Cameron shook off the snow, banged his shoes on the door-frame and entered the warm house.

‘What happened, Dad? Surely whatever it is it can be fixed?’ Rachael asked him, as she closed the door on the cold, white night, careful to keep the smile from her face until her father’s back was to her.

About Chris42

I am a liar! A maker-uper of stories! If this was the 16 (c) I'd be burned as a witch. Fank goodness it is not, eh?! I have four children: two wonderful girls, a fantastic lad and Leeds United. I have no strict genre. I write children's poetry and stories, to edgy, stronger themes. Up until now I have stored them for my own and my family's viewing. Last year i thought bugger it and starred in several short films. One, Playground, which is on the BBC Film Network, used the monologue that I wrote for the audition. You should've seen the face of the receptionist, of the Manchester hotel, where the audition was being held, as I turned up dressed as the psychopath, Gordon. It got the desired effect! I then moved up to Cumbria and wrote and appeared in several live performances on stage. 2012. A local artist, Kayleigh Richardson, commissioned me to write a poem for her to paint a representation. I sent her, The Rise of the Robot Monkey Army. Kayleigh painted a fantastic piece that blew my mind! From that we are collaborating on the Jacob Bear series of stories. Oh and Two's Company is to published, along with seventeen other Sci Fi short stories as part of a collection. Not a bad start to the, so called, last year of the Earth. Now is the time to show the rest of you. I take my themes wherever i see them, whether in reality or dream-world. I hope you enjoy. If not tell me why. If so tell me why. Many thanks and be safe. So far I have published: Jacob Bear's first Christmas,https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B007GK872A (UK) http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007GK872A (USA) Jacob Bear Goes to School https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B007JD3OKY (UK) http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007JD3OKY (USA Jacob's First Words https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B007VZWPSC (UK) & http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007VZWPSC (USA) Space Here https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B007H96M90 (UK) &http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007H96M90#reader_B007H96M90 The Rise of the Sponge Cake Moon https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B007WWZ16M (UK) & http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007WWZ16M (USA) © Madstoffa, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.


20 thoughts on “Stop Seeing Her! By C.p.Singleton. ©2012

  1. I love how this is a very conversational piece! I think alot of people will be able to relate to it! Really well done 🙂

    Posted by cestlavie22 | January 29, 2012, 7:06 pm
  2. “Should” be “enough?” Enough to drive a wedge between father and daughter? You succeeded in riling my emotions on this one, C.p!

    Posted by WilderSoul | May 26, 2013, 10:50 am
    • Oh, sorry. But I suppose that’s my job. Why did it rile?

      Posted by cpsingleton42 | May 26, 2013, 3:27 pm
      • It sounds like ‘Her’ is ‘The Other Woman’ in Cameron’s life. When it is actually his daughter. It riles me that Sarah thinks of and treats Rach as if she were Cameron’s lover.
        Glad you asked why, because now this brings up all sorts of questions like “how does Cameron think of and treat his daughter?”
        How deep does the story go?
        Then it comes back to the sense of abandonment by parent-figures. Sarah, as a ‘mother’ figure is rejecting a child. (Even if she is now an adult child of Cameron’s).
        Sarah’s attitude riles me. My heart softens at the incredibly difficult position that Cameron is in, as he is ‘father’ figure for Sarah’s children. And a (husband? partner?) of Sarah, and must choose between them.
        The expression ‘blood is thicker than water’ comes to mind.

        Posted by WilderSoul | May 27, 2013, 7:52 am
  3. Great story, at first I though the guy was having an affair, then the little twist which is his daughter and loved how all the story was written in a dialogue form.
    You said at the first page before you click on the link that it was written for someone? Anyways I can relate to this story. There are women out there too posesive. Great interaction and the twist of this story.

    Posted by charlypriest | January 26, 2014, 4:57 pm
  4. Damn you Crispy. Very good job at capturing a situation that some have and maybe a bit of perspective on it. It made me tear up. My stupid dad…sigh. We mutually agreed that I would move out at 16 yrs old. He chose the jealous wife, and at times I really needed him and he wasn’t there. I can’t love him now because of it. He gave me hate, that I don’t want and don’t know how to rid myself of. Blah blah, sorry for too much info. Good writing as always hon.

    Posted by Kari I. | April 28, 2014, 12:27 pm
    • No need to apologise!
      I went through similar and same. Recently it piled up and fell on top of me. I suffocated under it (do I feel a poem in this?! Lol), until I realised that, in a way, their inability to be there shaped me. My individualality. My realisations that I will NOT be like them with my children. My kids know that I am there whenever they want. I found that this weekend -for reasons I don’t need to say- when my son and daughter both reached out and said thanks pops. That is who they have shaped and I am grateful that I’m not my parents for that very reason.
      I recently came across, via Robert Anton Wilson and Aleister Crowley, a method of meditation that may help.
      Instead if meditating on nothing, they advise meditating on what you want and why. Question everything detachedly. Examine everything as you lay and meditate. The actions of my parents seemed less relevant afterwards. They have their reasons for being robots. That is who they are. The realisation floated way above my head, like litter on the breeze. I can’t make them love. I can only avoid mimicking their blind moves.
      This may help you. I hope.

      Posted by cpsingleton42 | April 28, 2014, 1:07 pm
      • I will look that up, I’ve tried meditating before and can’t seem to grasp it. Or it doesn’t seem to do anything if I am able to silence my mind. I am almost finished with a poem, ha. He had his own troubles, my dad. But I’m not sure it did make me a better parent, because now I know that my mistakes can …. I just know the weight of my mistakes on my girls. It scares the hell out of me that I will fuck them up, you know? But for sure, NEVER in the way that he did. There is no age limit on my love for my kids. And no behavior settings that will make me change the amount or way that I am there for them. Unconditional means unconditional. Now I feel like if your parents couldn’t even stick around for you… must be something wrong. One of those “I know that’s a fucked up rationale” but I still let it creep in, feelings. What did you ask for then?

        Posted by Kari I. | April 28, 2014, 1:41 pm
      • Conventuals meditating on nothing doesn’t work for everyone. Sometimes it does for me and other times not.
        Try this way. It will allow you to iron out creases.
        You are obviously not your father if you care about fucking up your kids. I went through the same.
        It’s when you hear then say that you were there that you know you haven’t done what your parents did.
        Mao worry not, sweetie. Enjoy the time with them. It passes all too quickly.
        Tell me when you have written so I can read it. I’ve written mine based on our chat. Uploaded.
        What do you mean: what did I ask?
        When meditating?
        I just started with: why am I meditating and went from there. Just remember to leave the mind door open to asking yourself all sorts of silly questions.
        It can be fun. Especially if your mind is random. Which I suspect mine is. 😉

        Posted by cpsingleton42 | April 28, 2014, 2:09 pm
      • Yes, that’s what I meant. When things start to go mystical… I go pfft. But I think I can logically walk through it, the meditating. Sounds worth a try- I can’t sleep at night sometimes. Oft times. I’m not as silly as you, that’s for sure. 😉 Can’t wait to read yours. Mine is aaaalmost done. Thanks for cheering me. You’re great.

        Posted by Kari I. | April 28, 2014, 3:07 pm
      • http://kari10words.wordpress.com/

        Got it done 🙂 Tell me if the pic is too much. x

        Posted by Kari I. | April 28, 2014, 4:34 pm
      • Oh crap. I think that does make me a bit silly… :p

        Posted by Kari I. | April 28, 2014, 4:35 pm
      • In sure you are very!

        Posted by cpsingleton42 | April 28, 2014, 5:22 pm
  5. I enjoyed your crisp, fast paced writing style. You accomplished emotional depth and clarity of voice in this short piece. Love it.

    Posted by Sarah G. | July 26, 2014, 9:13 pm

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Please Help A Poor Writer Enter His Work Into Competitions.

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 6,048 other followers


© C.p.Singleton, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Don't make me have to take the shirt off your whipped back if you break the rules! I will you know! Us writing folk work hard to make rubbish up for you to enjoy, so don't abuse or you lose! Tha's right!

Blog Awards

Blog Awards

%d bloggers like this: