The Mystery Continues...(VW2)

Chapter 6: If you're a player, I'll play better

"Grandmaaaaa!!" I called out loudly, "Juice please!"

With that, I slumped on the couch with a sigh. What a day! It was more fun than usual, but at the same time, tiring. At least that's better than a boring and not-tired out day.

"Here you go, Rosie," grandma said with a smile as she handed me a cup of cold mango juice. I sipped it, purely satisfied by the effect it had on my dry throat. Grandma always had a cup of juice ready for me by the time I reached home, because she knew that I'd ask for it everyday. Except Saturday and Sunday, that is. And any other holidays.

I glanced up as mom came down from the stairs. She smiled at me, but I slightly frowned. We just had an argument yesterday night - not exactly an argument, because I won with all due respect while mom got defeated by my whole set of reasonings and excuses.

The topic was epic - my ambition. I couldn't really choose between being a lawyer (that's obvious from the way I argue and nearly always win), psychologist, or a detective. Detective was my least favorite option, because I was too dumb for that, whatever, but when I mentioned psychology, mom and dad immediately started teasing me like how usual parents roast their children for fun.

However, this time, I didn't like it much, because they were telling me that I was really fit for treating 'mental patients' because I'm crazy myself and that a psychologist won't be of any admirable position. First, I argued that I'm not crazy and that's exactly why I'm going to treat actual patients.

Secondly, I said that these people are not 'mental patients', they're people who faced trauma in the past or have some emotional problems, and I'm going to 'comfort' them, not 'treat' them as if making them feel like patients, though they are. Even if they are mental patients, what's the problem? It's not like mental patients are criminals, the only thing they have in common is that they are behind bars for treatment. They're just driven into this broken state of mind by some situation they had or by birth, that's not their fault. There's a big difference between being a criminal and a mental patient. Now I'm scared of what my parents would've done had I been a patient too. Well, these are the times when you realize the privileges you have and how lucky you are...

Third, I'm not going to take up my profession, my passion, for any admirable position or respect from that fucked up society. I have my own choices and I'll act only according to them, it's not about my position or my social status. 

Sometimes I loved my parents so much, they were the best, but at times like these, they were the worst. They suddenly had a little toxicity in them, and I was set on changing them, whatever they tell me.

After all these arguments, mom had become silent in defeat unlike usual.

So even now, she came down the stairs silently after seeing my frown. Grandma saw us and frowned, "So there's something again. What's it this time, Rose?"

I groaned, "Why do you always ask me, grandma? It was mom who made the problem this time. Ask her!"

Grandma turned to mom with a glare, "Seriously, Rebecca? I thought you were mature than a 14 year old"

I rolled my eyes and went to my room as they began talking, because mom will probably start making me the start of the problem. This will be solved after a few hours, it always happens like that, but I won't be the one trying to solve it this time. Let mom finally accept her defeat, because for once, I know I'm completely right.

"Let her choose what she wants to! Why did you have to keep insulting her?" I heard grandma's voice from below. Mom was also heard, but it was muffled because I closed the door and took out my phone to reply to Adam. At least that would give me some time off this once-in-a-week argument. Sometimes the argument was fun, but on tiring days like these, I felt the need to punch someone when it started. I slowly opened Instagram.