ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʙᴇᴀᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀʟʟᴡᴀʏꜱ

.Never Enough༊˚

AUTHOR'S POV:

The rest of the school day passed by quickly. Avni was excited to go home and share her achievement with her parents. As soon as the bell rang, she hurriedly gathered her belongings and headed to the bus stop. With a heart full of pride, she clutched her medals and certificates, a soft smile playing on her lips.

The recognition she had earned for her hard work felt surreal, and for the first time in a while, she was truly proud of herself. The school had celebrated her victory, and her friends had showered her with encouragement. For a brief moment, Avni felt truly content—a moment she had worked so hard for.

The streets were quiet, bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. Avni's heart still raced from the excitement of the day, eager to share the news with her parents. Surely, they would be proud of her—coming third in the entire country was no small feat, right?

As she approached her home, she took a deep breath, feeling the weight of anticipation. Opening the door, she called out, "Mom? Dad? Are you both home? Got off early from work?"

Her mother appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on an apron, her face neutral. "Yes, we're home," she replied, her tone flat.

Avni blinked, her smile still present but slightly faltering. "I have big news!" she said eagerly, stepping forward and holding out her certificates. "I ranked third in the national physics exam! And first in the state! Isn't that amazing?"

Her mother glanced at the papers briefly, her expression unchanged. "Third in the country?" she asked, almost dismissively.

"Yeah!" Avni nodded, her excitement dimming slightly. "It's a huge achievement, isn't it? I worked really hard."

Before her mother could say anything further, her father entered the room, his face set in a serious expression. Avni's heart sank. Normally, her father would be the first to congratulate her, but today, his eyes held no warmth or pride.

"I heard you didn't come first," her father said bluntly as he sat on the couch.

Avni's stomach knotted. "I… I came third in the country, Dad. That's incredible! And I was first in the state—"

"But you weren't first in the country," he interrupted, his voice growing harder. "Do you know who came first?"

Avni paused, feeling confused. "I… I'm not sure," she admitted, her voice small.

Her father leaned back, crossing his arms. "Your uncle's daughter—Sanya. She came first. And now everyone is talking about how Sanya outperformed you."

Avni's heart plummeted. Sanya was her father's best friend's daughter, and growing up, Avni had always been compared to her. Sanya was smart, confident, and her family never missed an opportunity to boast about her achievements. No matter how hard Avni tried, it seemed Sanya always outshone her in her father's eyes.

"But Dad... I did my best," Avni said, her voice trembling. "I ranked third in the whole country. Isn't that something to be proud of?"

Her father's expression remained cold. "Third isn't first, Avni. Sanya set the standard, and you fell short. I don't care about state rankings. You didn't win."

The weight of his words crashed down on her. Avni stood there, frozen, feeling a painful ache in her chest. After all her hard work, all her sleepless nights, this was the response she got? It was as though none of it mattered because she hadn't come first.

Her mother finally spoke, though her tone was resigned rather than comforting. "You know how your father feels about these things, Avni. We've always expected more from you."

Avni's throat tightened, her earlier joy evaporating like mist. "I worked so hard," she whispered, mostly to herself. "I juggled the project, the party planning, everything… and this is what I get?"

Her father stood up, shaking his head in disappointment. "Excuses won't change the fact that you didn't meet the expectations. Sanya's family already called to congratulate me. Do you know how embarrassing that was? Their daughter came first, and mine didn't.”

Tears pricked Avni's eyes, but she forced them back. She had heard these words so many times before that they had become an echo in her life. Nothing she did was ever enough. No matter how much she achieved, it was never enough for her father.

Her frustration boiled over. "You never cared about me or my health," Avni yelled, her voice cracking with emotion. "All you ever cared about was comparing me to others! I was a child, Dad! You were supposed to raise me with love and care, not constant expectations! All you care about is success, but no matter what I do, it will never be enough for you!"

Her mother stood silently by, her gaze downcast. "And you, Mom," Avni continued, tears streaming down her face, "you never stood up for me. You never raised your voice against Dad. How can you both not understand what I feel? You both went through the same, didn't you?"

Just as Avni was about to turn and leave, her father's voice stopped her. "And what about the trip?" he asked, his tone colder now. "Was that an educational trip? Or did you lie about that too? And now, you're talking back to your parents?"

Avni's breath hitched, the accusation stinging more than she expected. She closed her eyes, trying to hold back the wave of frustration building inside her. Finally, she sighed and turned back to face him, her voice low but steady. "Yes, I lied," she admitted, her eyes locking with his. "Because I knew you wouldn't let me go otherwise. You would've said I was wasting my time, that it would distract me from my studies, and you would've never understood why I needed a break. You don't understand anything about what I need, you never did."

Without waiting for a reply, she spun on her heel and marched out of the room, her steps heavy with anger and hurt. She didn't stop until she reached the front door, pulling it open and stepping into the fading light of the evening.

She ran. She didn't know where she was going, but she ran as far as her legs could carry her, trying to outrun the suffocating weight of her parent's disappointment. Her chest burned, and her legs ached by the time she finally stopped at a park, collapsing onto a bench.

The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over. Her heart felt heavy, her thoughts spiraling into a dark place. Was she really enough? Did anything she did truly matter if her parents couldn't see it?

As she sat there, the evening breeze brushed against her face, drying her tears, but the ache inside her remained. For the first time, Avni had voiced the pain she had been carrying for years. Yet, instead of relief, all she felt was a deep, hollow loneliness.