Nothing Without You

Unknown call

As Sunday rolled around, I longed for a moment of respite from the chaos that had consumed my life in recent days. However, the looming deadline for our project served as a harsh reminder that there was no time for rest.

Sitting down at my computer, I stared at the empty document before me, frustration building within me as I realized that my partner seemed indifferent to the urgency of our task. Was Osamu always like this, I wondered, his lack of concern adding to my mounting stress.

With a deep breath, I resolved to take matters into my own hands, determined to tackle the project head-on despite the obstacles in my path. There was no time to waste—I needed to focus and get the work done, no matter what it took.

After two hours of sitting in the same position staring at the blank white document I got a unknown call. I ignored it at first thinking that it's probably some kids trying to prank call or something but the ringing won't stop. I got up from my chair and laid down on my bed seeing that I got 3 notifications from this unknown person. This is scary. I unlocked my phone to see what the person wrote and the only thing that stood on the message was 'Hello, answer me' repeated three times.

It's 3 in the afternoon, and it's just my dad and me at home. The presence of the others, whom I neither know nor care about, seems inconsequential. However, being alone with my dad is a bit uncomfortable. It's not that he's a terrible parent, although his infidelity has strained our family dynamic. The fact that my brother and I are aware of everything only adds to the awkwardness, especially since Mom hasn't left him yet.

Stepping downstairs into the familiar comfort of our home, I headed straight for the kitchen, seeking solace in the routine of making myself a glass of water with ice. The clink of cubes against the glass echoed in the quiet space, a soothing sound amidst the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind.

With my makeshift refreshment in hand, I made my way to the living room, where the plush couch beckoned invitingly. With a playful leap, I cleared the obstacle in front of me, landing with a soft thud on the cushions below. It was a simple act of defiance against the heaviness of the atmosphere, a small moment of levity in an otherwise somber setting.

As I settled into the familiar contours of the couch, I couldn't help but let out a sigh, the weight of the day's events pressing down on me like a leaden blanket. But for now, in this fleeting moment of respite, I allowed myself to simply be – to bask in the quiet comfort of my surroundings and find solace in the simple pleasures of home.

The sound of my dad's voice pierced through the tranquility of the moment, his admonition echoing off the walls of the kitchen. "Don't spill anything on the couch!" he called out, his tone tinged with frustration as he attempted to navigate the chaos of meal preparation. But the prospect of partaking in his culinary creations held little appeal for me; after all, why subject myself to the discomfort of sharing a meal with someone whose actions have caused such turmoil within our family?

As his words lingered in the air, a familiar pang of irritation welled up inside me. The mention of mom's obsessive-compulsive tendencies only served to exacerbate my frustration. Her relentless pursuit of perfection was a constant source of tension in our household, her unwavering standards casting a long shadow over even the most mundane of tasks.

It seemed that no matter how hard I tried, I could never quite meet her lofty expectations. Every misplaced item, every speck of dust out of place was met with a disapproving glance or a sharp reprimand. It was exhausting, this relentless pursuit of an unattainable ideal, and I couldn't help but resent the arbitrary nature of it all.

"Why does everything have to be perfect?" I muttered under my breath, the words carrying the weight of years of pent-up frustration. "For literally doing nothing," I added, my voice tinged with bitterness as I struggled to reconcile the disparity between expectation and reality.