In this Coming of Age story, four teen rebels from different walks of life embark on a journey of self discovery, brotherhood, and manhood when they go on a street robbing hiatus; each telling their own unique life stories from different point of vi...
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𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐃𝐚𝐲
𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡'𝐬𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐎𝐟𝐕𝐢𝐞𝐰
The morning sun filtered through the curtains, as a warm glow flowed in the comfort of my bedroom, upon my troubled face it shined. I already dreaded the day, as I prepared for school. My heart pounded with a heavy cloud of unease that settled over me, courtesy of yet another clash with my father last night lingered in my mind. My hands trembled as I buttoned up my shirt, staring at my mere reflection in the mirror, mirroring my inner turmoil. Thoughts raced through my head like a tangled web of emotions and unanswered questions. After my father urged me to move out the day before, the question of where I was going to go gnawed at me relentlessly as my eyes drifted across my room to my scattered remnants of my childhood. Each item in my room seemed to carry a piece of my past, a testament to the life I was leaving behind. With a heavy heart, my eyes wandered to my few gathered belongings on the bed. I had gotten myself into quite the predicament.
I had always presumed I would have more time to figure things out, but it seemed my father had other plans. Unable to shake the anger and frustration, I left the mirror to pick up the worn leather suitcase from the bed. The weight of the decision mirrored the weight of the luggage in my hand. Walking over to the door, I turned to wave a short goodbye to my childhood room before making my way out into the hallway and into the kitchen where my father was seated at the table, reading the morning paper.
Our eyes meet, distrust and resentment evident in both our expressions.
Before he could say anything, I decided to speak up. Taking a deep breath, gathering my thoughts, I then said, "So this is it, you just push me out and away, get rid of me like mom?" I said bitterly.
A brief silence filled the room as my father contemplated his response. Finally, he then sighed heavily, putting the newspaper down before saying, "Heath, why must you bring your mother into every conversation, this is about you. I just think it's time for you to stand on your own. I believe it will benefit you in the long run. This isn't about blame, it's about growth," his voice tinged with a bit of regret.
Clenching my fists, the pain of rejection made my chest tight. "Dad, all I ever wanted was your love and support," I confessed.
He only looked away, avoiding eye contact with me before saying, "Heath, I've supported you long enough. It's time for you to move out and face the world," he said firmly.
Feeling defeated, I turned my back to my father before taking a deep, long sigh, "I'm never coming back, don't expect me to!" I said to him.
"I understand. Take care of yourself Heath," he simply replied.
Turning to leave with my luggage in my hand I thought briefly and decided that this was a final decision. The reality of it all had settled in heavily. The money in my pockets, or the lack thereof was very minimal. I didn't know what I was to do but I was determined to make a way out of no way.
