Until We Met

Prologue

Today started off subsequently bitter. With the sun tucked away behind nimbus clouds, It was as though escaping the contagious blues from a gloomy day was far out of reach. And yet, for Ivy, it became a nostalgic feeling she practically bathed in. The smell of rain enclosed from all around, the sounds of tire tracks in the nearby distance splattering against the already soaked roads from the thunderstorm the night before.

She peered down at the black and white checkered shoes that were mucky from the mud puddles she carelessly trudges through. She could picture her mother now, heated cheeks flushed from frustration like a burner turned on high, furrowed eyebrows, and a scowl that could leave a person nauseous.

All at the sight of Ivy's tattered-up shoes that would surely track mud into the house. Occurs, Ivy wouldn't do it out of the "kindness" of her heart. She knew better yet she had a desirable knack for pushing past her mother's limits tauntingly like a competitive athlete whose personal trainer stayed glued to their ass.

But Ivy was 19 now, high school graduated, and a first-year in college. Scoldings from her mother came with a new packaging assessment. Constantly reminded how she was "too old," or her lack of making the right decisions. This always pissed Ivy off because her mother was 19 once.

Why couldn't she understand that although she was an adult, she was still someone's child - her child. She had feelings, young enough to make bad decisions but old enough to learn from them. When someone turns eighteen, it doesn't mean they become instantaneously accustomed to the unfamiliar world that prior to, had always been seen through child's eyes.

Adults expect their new adult child to thrive right away with zero experience and expect them to report back to their parents at the end of the day how right they were. Most of the time, parents just wanted to hear themselves speak, the truths they speak are only stereotypes, sexism, discrimination, and lots of other irritating aspects the people throughout history believed in. They were set in their ways and Ivy's mother was one of them.

Ivy stood up from the swing after patiently sitting there for fifteen minutes for the motion sickness to die down. Ivy thought about how hypocritical her parents were to play the roles of daunting parents who "cared" way too much for her well-being - neglected her for the majority of her childhood.

Where do they get off constantly belittling her and hectoring her about her life's decisions when they disappeared from out of her life from the time she was seven up until her sophomore year of high school. What kind of seniority did they expect to immediately take place once that step foot back into her life?

Their house was a little over the way much to Ivy's dismay. She would have liked for her walk back to be much longer, for she would then have an excuse to be out late. More time for herself, to bask in the content she felt, despite her parents. Her life was simple.

She didn't really have any friends, a close relationship with her parents or family, and she definitely didn't have a significant other. But she had herself and her mediating walks to the park she took as often as possible. She spent hours on a picnic bench working on her homework for the satisfaction of looking up, momentarily blinded by the gasping sun, chills passing through the air, and the calm atmosphere that came with being by herself.

She was truly an independent person. Not because of handling her responsibilities and being mature but because she was so free and happy with herself. Not many people can say they love themselves. Although she loved herself dearly, she'd develop an unsettling distrust in people. If her own parents who were supposed to love and care for her, abandon her, then how can she love anyone else? It started from the home and hers was broken.

She picked up her pace as the droplets of rain that fell came down in tons. Just my luck, she thought, finally reaching the bottom steps of their old white chipped porch. Her mom would surely lose it if she walked through that door with soaking clothes and muddy shoes. Once onto the deck of their porch, she slipped out of her shoes leaving her in surprisingly clean white socks.