Lucyfer With Us

Chapter 2

Thawda.

The constant conversation of my parents' sounded from the living room as I stared into the vacant white paper. I blinked at the paper as if the pen in my right hand was going to grow legs and start writing the damn letter. I wasn't certain if I was going to start standing up on my own two feet in a different dimension.

No, my conscience crossed her arms. She lifted a brow. You are going, she ordered. I rolled my eyes and banged my forehead on my desk. With my left cheek rested on the paper, I looked at the pen in my hand. I pursed my lips and glanced over at the stack of William Shakespeare's works. The top book had his picture as its cover. When my brown eyes saw the man's eyebrows wriggle at me, I pursed my lips and raised the pen in my hand. I turned to the A4 paper and started writing.

When I was done, I glanced at the clock in my room. It had already been an hour which was strange because it took only minutes in my mind. This was how oblivious my mind could get. I heaved out a breath and held the paper in my hands. I read what I wrote and I sighed, closing my eyes. My hand fisted the sides of the paper and torn the thin substance into pieces like a crazy monkey, not forgetting to go batshit crazy. I needed to get out of this house immediately.

So, I gave myself a quick peptalk which was several repetitions of 'You can do this' and marched over to the living room, still giving myself the peptalk. I needed to do this. I knew I would change my mind. That's why I'd already ringed the Golden Real Estate for a comfortable and affordable apartment in New York. I'd booked the ticket already so there was no turning back.

Suddenly, the atmosphere got heated. I cleared my throat and my parents glanced at me.

"Um, Mom," I glanced at my mother, "Dad," then at my father. I heaved out a sharp breath and stated. "I need to... explore - discover... the world. Will you let me?"

A quick breeze of confusion masked my parents' faces and my father looked at me as if I was a mentally ill person which I was already getting used to.

"What are you talking about, Thawda?" He huffed with an uneasy smile tugging his lips, indicating that he wanted to believe in what I was saying but he didn't.

I grew up with my parents long enough to know what kind of emotions they tried to hide from me. I never got to play with other kids growing up, hell, I couldn't even have friends without their permission. So, boyfriend wasn't even a part in my romance department and I was sure as hell that romance department had already been burned down by my parents. I knew well enough that if I kept living like - this loveless, inexperienced person, I would end up like a dumbass who knows two shits about how the world runs.

I sighed. "I want to go find a writing career in America."

Have you ever read the story called, 'The Last Leaf'? In that story, Sue and Johnsy wanted to live in a bohemian lifestyle which was Greenwich Village, New York. Oddly enough, I wanted to be like them even though the story did not comfirm if they became famous artists and I was sure as hell didn't want a partner like Johnsy who thought she'd die when the last leaf fell from the tree. A man died for her, for goodness sake!

"A writing career? Why are you at this again?" My patriotic father's face hardened, turning to my mother, his voice rose. "I told you that she's turning her back on her own blood!"

I couldn't believe this. Scoffing, I crossed my arms. "I am not turning my back on my blood. You don't have the rights to say since you haven't even taken a glance at it. And I'm not even writing about Americans and stuff. I'm writing about a Myanmar - a Burmese girl struggling to the top of the world!"

He huffed at my declare, rolling his eyes. He murmured. "Like that would ever happen."

"Oh, so that's patriotic, huh?" I decided to leave off the sexist part; it would only get me in trouble. My hands untangled and rested on my hips. I shook my head, muttering. "Unbelievable."