Continuing on scrollstack
She wanted to be loved, to be cherished. Avyanna Oberoi, a woman who wanted to live on her own term but couldn't, who wanted to be the priority of someone.
"You are OUR priority. Not just one of us, all of us," Shaurya Kas...
I will continue posting this book here if I get the response (I'm not being rude)
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Pretend. Pretend, that's all I could do and that's all I knew. Even after fighting for my own self and standing on my own feet, I had to pretend to look happy, when all I felt was numb.
"Avyanna, focus," I heard a stern tone of my father who was giving me a hard look and then my brother who don't give two damns about me.
I gulped and nodded. I couldn't just say anything.
"As your degree is completed and I know that you can't survive on your own while just painting shit, so from tomorrow I want you in the office, sharp at 9," he ordered and left my room with my brother, elder brother.
My father thought that choosing career of my own choice would definitely made me go on road, if he won't help.
I can stand on my own feet but how can I when my own parents tied them so tight that I can't even move my feet.
After fighting so much to choose my career option, my parents didn't talk to my for two years. They were just absent.
My grandfather, he was the one who paid for my college and now, he was not alive, my father bought me back to India from LA.
I was forced to join the company of my father. He wanted me to be the COO, I was grateful that he thought that I was that capable to stand on this position but I wasn't born for this.
That was never my thing. I never wanted to lift a pen to sign on a paper where I had to agree for some deals rather I wanted to a lift the pen to sign on my painted painting.
"Avyanna, stop acting like a child. You are 25, act like an adult," my mother, my own mother said these to me when I practically begged her to stop my father.
Stop acting like a child? When did they let me act like a child? Never in my childhood they let me live like a child.
I was freaking trained to like a adult.
I sniffed as I would never going to cry because of them. They were not worth it.
I took a deep breath and stood up from my bed and walked towards the mirror.
I looked at my own self and felt pity. I didn't looked like this a week ago. I wasn't this tired and worn out when I was in LA.
It wasn't like my parents physically abused me but emotionally. Still that was a damage. I didn't heard my own voice from the past two days.
All I was just nodding and shaking my head. I knew, they were never going to listen to me at any cost.
I locked my room and walked towards a small room which was connected from my bedroom.
It was an dark room where I used to draw, paint or even sketch.
I turn on the light and saw the room was looking as same as I felt it few years ago. I didn't had the courage to walk in this room from the past 1 week.
