Life doesn't always seem to work your way. It surprises you, in the most deadly and sometimes happier ways.
❤
"We never broke up"
"We were never together"
"What was it, that we had?"
"Almost love"
❤
"If it is 'Yes' I will be on cloud nine, If it is...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I sat by the window, staring at the moonlit street outside. My phone buzzed on the desk, the group chat lighting up with messages. They were talking about Matthew, how the surgery was going, and how he was now in a coma but was in safe hands.
Guilt gnawed at my insides. I couldn't visit him. Not because I didn't want to. God knows I wanted to. But because my mom had put her foot down.
Three days. I'd been out for three days—hanging out with my friends, laughing, and living a little. It wasn't like I did that often, heck this was probably the first time I had felt like better, but apparently, that was enough for her to throw a fit.
"Mom, I need to go!" I said, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. My voice was steady, but I could feel the tension building inside me.
Mom didn't even look up from the chopping board. "No, Annie. I've already told you. You've been out too much this week."
I clenched my fists. "This isn't about hanging out, Mom. Matthew's in the hospital! He's hurt, and I need to see him."
She set the knife down and turned to face me, her expression stern. "I understand he's your friend, but there are boundaries, Annie. You can't just be out all the time. Three days, Annie. Three days you were out. Do you know how that looks?"
"How it looks? Who cares how it looks?" My voice rose despite my best efforts to keep calm. "Matthew is my best friend! What if something had happened to him? What if—"
"But nothing happened, did it?" dad interrupted, his voice sharp. "He's fine now, isn't he? And you've already been with your friends all week. You need to learn to prioritize."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Prioritize? You think this isn't a priority? He's in the hospital, Dad! What kind of person would I be if I didn't go see him?"
"You'd be the kind of person who respects her parents and their rules," he shot back.
"That's ridiculous! I'm not a child—"
"You are a child, Annie!" mom snapped, cutting me off. "You're my child, and as long as you live under my roof, you'll follow my rules. Do you understand me?"
I stared at her, my chest heaving. The frustration and anger bubbling inside me were overwhelming, but her tone left no room for argument.
"You don't get it," I said quietly, my voice trembling. "You don't understand what he means to me."
