Lost Angel

C H A P T E R: E I G H T E E N

I and my mother had a lot of fun having coffee and gossiping at our favourite little café downtown. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and we chatted about everything from local news to family updates. It was one of those rare days where nothing seemed to matter except our laughter and the warmth of each other's company. My mom had a gift for storytelling, and she had me in stitches recounting her younger days, which made me realize just how much I cherished our time together. I listened intently as she shared tales of mischief with her childhood friends, the adventures that led her to where she was today, and the lessons she learned along the way.

After finishing our drinks and sharing a slice of delicious chocolate cake, we decided to head back to my house. Unfortunately, that meant returning to a rather overbearing atmosphere, thanks to my father. Thank god my mom was never married to him; her independence made her wise enough not to get trapped in that kind of negativity. The thought crossed my mind as we drove home, and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and dread about what awaited us.

As we turned the corner onto our street, I could see the familiar sight of our house standing there like a fortress. It had seen happier times, with laughter echoing in the hallways and family dinners filled with warmth. But lately, it felt more like a battleground, and I could sense the tension that awaited us.

As soon as we entered the house, we were greeted not only by the smell of my father's relentless cooking but also by a fuming figure standing in the living room. My father’s face was twisted with anger, and my five brothers were scattered around, glancing between their dad and me, clearly unsure if they should intervene. The chaos that often filled our home amplified the tension. The smell of something burning wafted from the kitchen, and my father stood there, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed in discontent.

“Hi,” I said tentatively, attempting to lighten the mood, though I could sense that this time was more challenging than usual.

“WHERE WERE YOU?!” My father screamed, his voice echoing through the hall as he gestured wildly. He looked like a storm about to break, fury radiating from him in waves. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for what was to come. I felt my stomach knot; the confrontation was looming, and I knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

“Since you won’t let me go to Oxford, I brought my mother, and she will let me go to Oxford,” I said firmly, trying to stand my ground despite the increasing tension. The truth was, I had been dreaming about attending that university for as long as I could remember. It represented everything I wanted in my life—a chance to break free, to explore, and to learn. My thoughts raced as I weighed the implications of my father’s rejection versus my desire for a future I could truly embrace. I could feel the weight of my future hanging in the balance as I met my father's furious gaze.

“Don’t use your mother against me,” he shot back, his voice filled with frustration. The atmosphere in the room grew heavier, and my brothers exchanged anxious looks, sensing the brewing storm. I could tell they were just as uneasy as I was; their eyes darted back and forth between my father and me, stuck in the middle of a conflict they never wanted to be a part of. The room felt charged, and I could practically hear the unspoken words hanging in the air.

Mom stepped forward, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to my father's intensity. “She deserves the chance to pursue her dreams. Let’s talk about this logically,” she suggested, her voice steady and reassuring. I felt a surge of gratitude towards her, knowing she would always stand by me, providing the support I so desperately needed. Her presence was calming, and I drew strength from it.

“Why can’t you see? This isn’t just about school; it's about her future!” My mother pleaded, her voice resonating with a clarity that pierced through the chaos. I could see my father’s frustration boiling, yet somewhere within the storm, I hoped to find that glimmer of understanding.

As the inevitable argument began, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of fear and hope. Perhaps this was the moment I needed to finally assert myself and chase my dream, no matter how much resistance came from my father. With my mother beside me, I felt a little more confident as we prepared to dig our heels in.

“Dad, this matters to me,” I said, my voice now stronger, emboldened by my mother’s presence. “Oxford isn't just a school; it’s where I can become who I want to be. Can’t you see that?” I spoke with renewed conviction, as if my words were a lifeline casting out into the turbulent sea of our conversation.

He scoffed, his frustration palpable. “You’re too young. You need to focus on what’s in front of you instead of dreaming about far-off fantasies.” His words felt like a weight on my chest, but I refused to back down.

“That ‘fantasy’ could shape my entire future,” I replied, my heart racing. “You can’t cage me forever. I want to explore the world!” I could feel my voice rising with emotion, the words pouring out of me like a dam breaking.

My father shook his head, almost disappointed, as if I had betrayed him by wanting more than what he could provide. My brothers shifted uncomfortably, caught between a desire for peace and the palpable tension that had now enveloped the room. The air was thick with unspoken thoughts, and I could see my brothers exchanging glances, their expressions mirroring my own confusion and frustration.

After what felt like an eternity of heated exchanges, my mother stood steadfastly by my side. Her unwavering support felt like a shield, allowing me to face my father's wrath. Over a lot of discussion and intense staring, through conversations conveyed by eyes and body language, my father finally backed down.

“So I'm going right?” I asked hopefully, trying to read the expressions on their faces. The hope in my heart surged as I braced myself for their answer. Would this moment mark a turning point in my pursuit of independence?

“Yes, you are,” they both said at the same time, a rare moment of alignment that felt almost surreal. Relief washed over me, and I couldn’t contain the smile that broke across my face. For the first time, I felt as though the doors of possibility were finally swinging open, and I was standing at the threshold.

For a brief moment, the tension in the room dissipated, and I allowed myself to revel in my victory. Great, I was happy for a huge amount of time, feeling a weight lifted off my shoulders. The thought of preparing for my future filled me with exhilaration.

“Enzo, how’s Tiffany?” I teased him, recalling the girl he had been crushing on for ages. It was a silly little joke, but in that instant, I wanted to lighten the mood even more. Enzo rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the faint hint of a smile on his lips.

“Still too shy to talk to her, I think,” he admitted, shooting me a playful glare. “Maybe you should give me some tips on how to impress her since you're going off to the fancy university now.”

We all laughed, the noise reverberating around the room like a soothing balm over the earlier conflict. In that laughter, I could feel a sense of normalcy returning, a shared moment reminding us of the bond we had as a family, even amidst the chaos.

I glanced over at my mom, who nodded with pride, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like we had taken a step toward being our authentic selves. Maybe today was not just about fighting for my dreams; it was also about recognizing the importance of support, laughter, and the strength that family can provide when the world feels heavy on your shoulders.

I hear my phone ring, the sound piercing through the quiet atmosphere. I take a deep breath before answering it.

“Hello?” I ask, my voice wavering slightly as I try to mask my anxiety.

“Wait, is this some kind of prank?” I respond, my heart racing as I feel a tremor in my voice.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Okay, thank you,” I manage to reply, forcing myself to keep it together as I fight back tears. My mind is swirling with confusion and dread. Why is this happening to me? What does this all mean?

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
A/n: hiiii my lovely ppl!
So how are you guys?
Anyone worried about the news??? Any guesses? Comment with your guesses!!
Word count: 1508
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Ilysm
Dhanika ☆