Set Free

Chapter 1- Flashback

Chapter 1- Flashback

Misery. Pain. Exhaustion. That's what I feel everyday when I wake up. I never get happy or delighted, even. I feel worse, like I'm the most miserable person in the world. Wait, hold that thought. I am the most miserable. I feel pain everyday because I can't do things my way. Oh, with my mom you can't. Why, you ask? Well, because of an incident a long time ago, she became so over protected on me. Now, I'm 16 years old and still, she hadn't changed a bit. My mom still treats me like I'm a kid. I just sigh every time I think about that. I am also very exhausted about my life. Exhausted because I am very tired of living... like this. That I don't want to live anymore. Can't I just live normally? I'm a 4rd year high schooler and will be about to go to college. And still, I hadn't known what 'fun' is. I sometimes envy the street children who had already encountered fun. We have wealth but how can I enjoy what we have if I will be here for the rest of my life? I blame myself for this. If that didn't happen, I shouldn't be caged here.

Flashback:

4 years ago...

I seated on my comfy bed solemnly, hating that my parents are fighting... again. They always do, even with little things that shouldn't be fought about. Playing with my hands, I suddenly feel bored and decided to go to sleep. Tugging my comforter on, I was about to go to a nice sleep when I heard a thunder boom. I shrieked, which I always do when I'm scared. Practically saying, I'm scared of thunders. I couldn't sleep with the distraction filling me. So, what I did was I got out of bed and went outside my room. The shouts and argues by my parents have been getting clearer and louder as I ascend to them. When I was in front of them, I shouted, “Dad,” but they didn't listen. I feel like I'm talking to no one. So I shouted even louder. “Dad!” and that got their attention. Both of them looked at me, alarmed, like I just interrupted something important. Oh, wait. I did. “I can't sleep.” I spoke out, hoping my dad could tuck me in. Actually, my father is my only best friend. I never ever had been close to my mom since I'm a chicken when she's angry. And I don't have siblings. I looked at my father, waiting for an answer. But he just sighed and knelt down, facing me. “Drew, just stay to your room and wait for me there, okay? I'll be there in any minute.” My dad explained, me getting impatient. He always tell me those excuses when I really need him. Why can't they just stop arguing? “Andrew,” I faced my mom with a solemn look when I heard her tensed yet serious voice. “Go to your room,” She ordered and I just looked down. I don't want a life like this. I don't want to follow her orders any longer. So I shook my head with disapproval and said, “No.”

I can feel tears brimming out of my eyes. “Drew-”

“No!” I stopped my mother, looking at her with my red, teary eyes. “I don't want this life anymore!” I shouted and I ran out of the doorstep. The last voice I heard was from my father with his tensing voice but that didn't stop me. I just want to go out of that place and move far away. I don't want to hear arguments or shouts anymore.

I don't care if it's raining and there's a thunder that could hit me anytime. Even though I have the phobia of thunders, I still kept running. I just want to run and leave. I don't know where I'm actually going. I'm just so depressed and sad that I have parents who doesn't understand what their son feel. All they care about is to argue and argue and argue. I couldn't stop crying since I couldn't stop thinking how miserable I am. I don't care if my clothes are dripping wet, I don't care if my hair is soaked from the rain.

I don't even know if my parents love me.

I stopped in a wooden bench and sat there even though it isn't dry. It didn't matter because my clothes are wet. I sat there, hands holding my knees as I let my sadness out.

It had been about thirty minutes and it hadn't stopped raining. When I saw headlights near me, I didn't get surprised or excited. I don't want to go home, I just want to stay here and live like a beggar. Maybe it's happier than living in a luxurious house but you could hear bangings and argues every single second, echoing from walls to walls. A car had stopped near the wooden bench from where I'm sitting on and I know who it is.