" my dad said in his all-masculinity. "Dad! Call me Caroline or don't call my name at all," calling me Carol makes me feel like a Santa Claus getting chased on Christmas Day but m

e. Exactly where I belong. Yet, the thought of what to do with my life struck my mind. I guess it's too early to start planning that. I was done packing and was shutting my door when the next-door neighbor came by again. She attempted to speak but this time, I gave her no audience. I walked past her without a smile on my face. "Be safe, Carol," she screamed at my retreating back. Only if I could squeeze her bones out. A couple of hours later, I was unpacking in my teenage room. Where I had thought wouldn't be my resting place unless it was Thanksgiving or Christmas. My mum came by with a cup of water and told me to come down for dinner. I looked at her as though she was missing something but she didn't get the glimpse or she doesn't want to. I took a large gulp before placing the cup down and finished unpacking. There was little to nothing to unpack. I looked around the room and forgot the smell of cinnamon mixed with roses smell that always intertwine with the air in the room after I use my favorite shampoo. Now, it's replaced with the smell of dust and rain. I took a picture frame that was taken in high school when I dressed as a nurse for Halloween. The memories of that day played in my head like a movie. I had always wanted to become a nurse since I was in fourth grade but the passion was fading away after I searched for a job in multiple hospitals and was declined, so I decided to opt for painting, and still, I wasn't accepted. I always thought I was quite versatile. I made friends with a nurse that treat

few years back and you think you can take total control over my life like you are some good father? Stop acting like one!" Before he could stop himself, his hand landed on my cheeks. The stunned look on his face showed his instant regret. "Mike!" my mum yelled. Outrightly shocked. "You never disappoint!" I held my cheek and cried out before running over to my room. My mum called after me but I never bothered to look back. I was on the verge of losing my mind but as I laid on the bed with my eyes tightly shut, all I could think of was a cup of coffee at that time of the day. My mum knocked persistently on the door, disrupting my thoughts. I knew nothing could change my dad's mind, not even my stubbornness but I still wanted my peaceful space. I still wanted to stand my ground. If at all there was something I'd have thought would happen in my life, entering a contractual marriage with a rich man's son for a year was the least. I am an adult and I deserve to be heard. I was so hungry that my head hurts after continuous weeping. I wasn't even given the chance to finish my meal before the unpleasant news was broken. I looked at the time and knew my parents must have slept since the endless knock had ceased. I quietly unlocked my door and at the doorstep was a tray with orange juice which obviously was dropped by my mum. I shifted it to the side with my left leg and walked to the fridge in the kitchen. I wasn't ready to accept that. After an immense search throughout the cold object, I settled for water though it wouldn't quench my hunger. I dropped the glass of water in my hand after I closed the door to the refrigerator and saw my mum standing, arms akimbo. "Oh my God. Mum!" I exclaimed. I hurried away to clean the spill up. "Sorry, sweetheart," she said before sitting. "I thought you were asleep