Kingdom of isolation - you can't hide

Eight ~ Aurora

Aurora

Age 18

Mid evening sun filters through the venetian blinds, bouncing off the far wall in a kaleidoscope of colours. Sunshine on this side of the planet is like catching a glimpse of a unicorn, rare and sometimes just a myth. The warmth of the rays that are meant to be soothing do nothing but prickle my skin with goosebumps. Today is not my day as evidenced by the scene in front of me.

"No."

"Please!"

"No."

"Please!"

"I said, no!" His voice is strict, like a father scolding his petulant child. And it's a little humiliating as I sit on the floor and listen to him go on and on. He is my judge, jury and executioner as I wait for him to list the crimes I have committed.

"You didn't tell me nor consult with me about this. Get it in your head; as long as I'm alive, you are not going to HRU. End of discussion. Good talk."

I gape at him, wondering if this man is..for real? My eyes roam over to find Aunt Clara rubbing her temples as she sits on the plush sofa with her legs propped on the coffee table. Guilt settles into me for waking her up from her pregnancy nap with our sudden disagreement. But in my defence, I didn't think this was going to be that big of an issue. I look around to find an object, any object, suitable for hurling at 30 something year old Uncles who speak in code only they understand. Nope, I can't find anything.

"You said I could go anywhere if I worked hard for it," I say, licking my now dry lips. "You promised me that, so why are you doing this to me now?"

I don't mean to, but I'm whining as I call him out on his promises. My wild hair obstructs my view as I push it away with the back of my hand. And let's not forget that I'm on my knees begging. Literally. If I didn't love him unconditionally, I wouldn't waste a single moment kicking his ass for making me beg like this. He needs to understand that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for me and I don't want to mess it up because of his overprotectiveness. It's good in smaller doses, too much is stifling. Because as grateful as I am that he's in my life, to have such a loving man-child who looks after me, right now I need his approval on the matter at hand more than anything. And for some unknown reason only known to him, he's shutting me down without hearing my side of the argument. I'm frustrated, annoyed and completely confused by his sudden reluctance. We've never argued over such issues, that's not how we operate around here. Yes, we fight over petty things like siblings would, but he's never denied me anything. That is, until now.

"That was before you decided to go behind my back and do the one thing I didn't want you to."

"What's the big deal?"

He mutters something under his breath that sounds something like, 'she's asking me what the big deal is after the fact.'

You haven't exactly told me much. Did I ever ask you about anything? It's on the tip of my tongue but I don't voice it. Not right now.

"Sana, you don't understand. Even if I wanted to, I can't. My hands are tied. Literally. Figuratively. In every sense of the word!" Uncle Noah fires back, holding out his hands in a locked position for exaggeration purposes. Sana. He just called me Sana. Hearing that name, or any other for that matter, never fails to send a shiver through me. It's like a little zap of electricity shooting up my spine, waking me up and forcing me to face my reality. I am Sana and whatever other name I need to be. Funny how that came to be my life.

At first, it began as a game we were playing where I was going to call myself Samantha if anyone asked for my name. I can't recall the rules of the game, maybe there weren't any, who knows? I've always been a curious kid, too curious sometimes. Aunt Clara says if I wanted to, I'd be a great journalist or a P.I. It wasn't long before I started to sense that the constant name changing had something to do with our unconventional arrangement, but I let it continue even when curiosity got the best of me. Talk about self discipline. Nevertheless, it always feels surreal hearing Uncle Noah call me a different name like it's nothing unusual for him. Like this is something so normal when it's not, I know it's not normal..but that doesn't mean I have to acknowledge it either. Doesn't make it any easier though. I had to come to terms with being called Sana, Amber, Maya, Katie, Ella, every name you could possibly think of—I was called them all. Hell, I was a boy called Kaden once and got away with it. Lost a chunk of my hair in the process but it grew back eventually. One name for every city, and we moved around a lot, never revisiting. It became so normal that I don't know when the transition occurred and when I truly stopped questioning it. Why would I? I was just a silly kid.