Maryanland, September 25, 2040, 7:57 AM
Overshare. Overthink. Overdo.
My motto, although not a healthy one, but one that works. I repeat the motto like a mantra as I get closer to work. After the whole outburst I had with Anna's crony, going to work feels a lot easier, more breathable even. My parents have influenced me to grow a sense of hostility towards anger, and even more towards using it to any degree.
But the words I spewed the other day sure helped present Azail feel at ease. I've never felt this relaxed thinking about work ever.
However, there's an uncertain feeling that is making my gut heavy. One thing I've learned is to trust my gut, no matter how absurd the setting may be. Although not a painful sensation, my hand still raises to run at my abdomen to ease it in spirit.
Deep breaths, Azail.
If it's nothing, we're good. If it is something, then you will get through it. Enjoy this sunny fall day.
I will.
Multiple deep breaths later, I see the clinic I work at coming into view.
The closer I get, the more defined the silhouette I noticed standing by the door gets. Anna, who would've fucking thought? She stands next to a group of people, wearing her usual black trench coat and fake smile. Whatever, ignoring her like I always do. With the most relaxed expression ever seen by mankind, I make hurried moves to sidestep her without getting noticed. As much as I hate to admit it, seeing her makes me nervous. Years of snarky comments and more than uncomfortable advances don't leave one's head like that. Although I know it is not fear, it is something resembling it.
I should have noticed the catch in how she smirked when she saw me sneaking a glance at her. I didn't think of it much, since she always does that. Part of me feels downright defeated for still seeing her have her usual demeanor, even after what I said. Whatever, I did what I could, and I'll do more if need be. At least she isn't talking to me, and that's a miracle I will appreciate with open arms.
Once I enter the building and get a few steps in, a familiar venomous voice speaks words I wish they didn't.
"Good morning, Azail, have a nice day."
Anna, a-fucking-gain.
Ignore it, think of Flynn and how he said it with his heart. Flynn, Flynn, Flynn.
An involuntary smile raises the corners of my mouth when I remember him and his details. If someone told me I would ever be in a scene where I would ignore Anna's words and walk away as I think about a potential lover, I would have cackled.
Yet here I am, doing just that. Wow, I'm loving this Azail, she's fun.
Pfft, please. I'm your mind, and it's quite dark in here. I don't know where you got the fun from, but keep dreaming big.
Bye.
Dare I say that might have been the shortest encounter I've ever had with Anna? Maybe today is a good day because I'm loving how it is going so far.
12:17 AM is what the clock read as I make my way home.
I don't know why I always stay to help the interns, but I do it out of kindness. And because I want to set a good example of what most people at the clinic are like. Wouldn't want to traumatize an intern a day into the job. Even though I'm an intern myself, longevity goes a long way in the workplace. Even if it isn't ideal in most cases, it is for mine.
My phone rings as I turn to enter my street. Pulling my phone out of my slacks, I damn near drop it when I see my dad's name flashing through the screen.
Huh?
What the fucking fuck?
Have I officially become blind?
Is this a hallucination that I need to get checked for?
Still, I answer the phone after picking up my jaw from the ground.
"Uh, hi?"
"When are you coming home?" he deadpanned, no emotion or greeting detected.
"Like two minutes, why?"
"Nothing, just come home," is all he says before hanging up without waiting for a response.
My eyes water at how this is the most he has spoken to me in days. Any word exchange between us I cherish in my heart, despite no trace of love existing in them. He never calls me, at all or ever. Heaven knows what led him to make this call, but I appreciate it regardless of the incentive. No matter how short-lived it was. My hand wipes my eyes when multiple tears drop once. Fuck, not now.
I miss my father; I miss him being a father, and I miss being his child.
I said not now, you're not even in your room yet.
A few wipes here, a few sniffles there, and I'm home.
The second thing I shouldn't have ignored was the illuminated foyer. My parents always keep the lights off when necessary, so why are they on? That would mean they're away. Why would they be up right now?
Perplexed, I take hesitant steps to the living room. Scoping out the atmosphere sounds like the best idea.
Third mistake.
I resist the urge to flinch when I caught the sight of my parents both sitting in the living room, silent. My mom cranes her head to the side to look at me once she hears my steps get close. Not that the sight of her encompassed by fury is unfamiliar, but why is she angry? Scratch that, her shallow breaths hint that she's nothing short of furious.
"You're home," it was my dad that spoke, his voice holding the same anger in my mom's eyes.
Clearing my throat, I try not to stutter under their gazes.
"Yeah, I am."
"Where were you?" my dad spoke again.
"Work, and with my friends before that," the usual explanation. It may have been true before, but explaining the entire situation with Flynn to my parents is a big fuck no.
"Hm, and how's work?"
Alright, now we're acting downright creepy.
"Uh, it was good, my internship is going well. Doctor Mohammad likes me," a desire to see a hint of pride in my parents' eyes for me makes me speak more than usual. I wanted them to say they were proud of me at least once, that's all I could ask from them.
"Does that internship include you bullying Anna?" my mom spat what must have been clawing at her mind.
Pause, I furrow my eyebrows, looking at my mom.
"Excuse me?" I shrieked.
My mother stands up, coming closer to me. I know she would never hurt me, or at least I hope she never would. I still take my chances and move a step backward to be out of her reach. That consideration alone should have always been a red flag, but I ignore all colors for the sake of loving my parents. Multiple years' worth of fear builds up the closer she gets.
"From hurting your father to bullying grown women at work for years? Is that the daughter I raised you to become?"
You didn't raise me.
I wanted to say that, but hurting my parents will hurt me. Despite how much they've done to me in every way negative, I would never do that to them.
"I didn't bully anyone mom, I swear on my life-" I tried to explain, but got interrupted by my mother's yell.
"Don't swear on anything! The poor woman came here sobbing about how miserable she felt at work because of my daughter."
"What poor woman?"
"Anna," she said the name of the person I should not have underestimated.
Taking a deep breath, I try again. "Mom, listen, let me explain. You have this all wrong, it's the opposite. I swear to you, I mean, sorry. I promise you I would never do such a thing. You know me. Why would I, a psychologist, bully anyone?"
My mom scoffs, "after hearing what Anna had to say, I would say that's a lie."
My legs and hands tremble from the nerves I'm trying to keep at bay. Breathing doesn't feel like an effortless task right now, but I keep trying.
"What did she say? Tell me word for word."
"Why would I tell you when you already know?"
"Mom, please," my trembling voice begs.
It was my dad who spoke next, saying words in a way that shows me he might as well have memorized them by heart. My father saying that hurts me more than every vicious word he has ever said to my face.
"Pushing and pulling, making snarky comments about who knows what, threatening to frame her if she tells on you, commenting about her injured parents, and worst of all, spreading rumors to anyone around town."
The things she does to me, one by one, he listed them all.
"You're going to believe her over your daughter?" I couldn't help but scoff.
"She showed us enough evidence from her bruises, messages, and witnesses to have us do just that."
"Mama, baba, I swear all the things she listed are the things she does to me. I haven't bullied her a day in my life. Yeah, I may comment about her here and there, but I do it to defend myself from her and her cronies. They do the exact stuff you said to me every day. They have been since forever. She uses dad's incident as a tactic to bully me, for fuck's sake! How are you going to believe her over me, what the fuck?"
"Stop," my dad shouts.
I look at him, analyzing him. From his wrinkled face to his immovable legs, every part of the man that used to be my father. I then looked at my mother, noticing her usual angry eyes and soft clothes that I wished she would hug me while wearing.
"From neglecting to help me, to everything Anna said you do, you're the worst daughter one could ever have. We saw the evidence with our own eyes. What do you have to prove your innocence? She had bruises and audios to show us."
I take a deep breath, trying to salvage as much as I can despite the odds hating me.
"Did she show you the 'bruises' she has in a picture or in real life? Did the alleged 'audio' even sound like me?"
If they say unrelated responses to either of those questions, I know it's over. It will be because this will show the amount of trust my parents have in me if it ever existed.
"It doesn't matter-" my mom began, but I interjected.
"Yes, it fucking does. Now did she?"
Silence. Answers received, but I won't give up without digging deeper.
"Answer me!" I shout, not at them, but at our situation. Frustration doesn't make me think or act straight, and I'm close to losing it. Maybe that will confirm that I am, in fact, their child.
"She did, and the voice sounded like you," interesting.
"She's lying. I don't know where her bruises came from, but they didn't come from me. How are you sure it was my voice? Most instances that I've spoken to her didn't show me anyone pulling out their phone to record anything. Their hands were in plain sight. This woman is lying to your fucking faces and you're blindly trusting her. My faith in you was already at rock bottom, but what the fuck?"
My mom steps even closer to me, face inches away from mine. I clench my fists, using them as armor to help me stand my ground. My gaze didn't move away from my mother's hands. Screw what I said earlier about her never physically hurting me, I'm doubting that now.
"Even your loyal friends can't help you escape this one. Leave my house and don't come back until you have your shit sorted. I will not have a daughter like you in my house."
My gaze flies to my dad, eyes widening in groundbreaking shock.
It was at that moment that my heart broke. The trembling in my body worsened, and I had to grab hold of the armchair to my left to prevent myself from falling. I knew my parents didn't have an ounce of feelings toward me, but this blew me away in the worst way possible.
What did I do wrong? I've apologized for my negligence so many times. Everything they have ever asked of me I delivered without complaint. I follow their orders, thinking it would gain me some forgiveness. What the fuck else do they want from me?
My face hardened as I felt the tears come in, but I don't let my parents see them, nor do I let them hear any word coming out of me. Nothing I say will defend me, so might as well not waste the time and energy. With one last look at each of them and my surroundings, I leave the place that is supposed to be my home. For that extra drama, I slam the front door. Why the fuck not? It's my last time here. Might as well take advantage.
My silence surprises me, and my lack of feeling surprises me more. All indications of me being capable of emotion are the tears I let fall without a sound.
I'm not worried about where I will stay, my friends have asked me to move in with them more times than I can count. What worries me is my parents, or the lack thereof. I must be an easy person to let go of for them to have done that as soon as someone raised words about me.
Am I easy to let go of? Easy to hate?
Tears are still silent despite my sudden burst of emotion.
My hand itches to call my friends, and for the sake of staying sane, I do. Dialing Sapphire's number, I wait for them to pick up. They do one ring later, like usual.
"Hi babe, how are you?"
"Where are you?" my quiet voice asks. I didn't mean to ignore their question, but I'm desperate for a human's presence. Answering this question with white lies won't make Sapphire too happy with me.
"At the club, where are you? Do you want me to pick you up?" they suggest.
"No, stay where you are. Have fun, I'll be waiting for you in your apartment if that's okay."
Hold it in a little longer, Azail.
"Of course it is, Azail. When has it ever not been okay? I'll be there in thirty minutes. Help yourself to a shower and clothes. My aunt dropped off some food when she picked up Ruby, warm it up, and have it. I know work was tiring, babes. I'll see you soon, love you."
"Ok, you too," I mutter.
Despite Sapphire's inviting words, all I had the energy to help myself to was sit on the iconic, worn-down couch.
My body feels shell-shocked. I can't move no matter how hard I try. All I can do is sit and try to take as little space as possible. The only indications of movement are my fidgeting hands and shaking feet. Tears have stopped, and my eyes busy themselves by staring at the ground. I've named the shades of brown that color the ground. Brown is a pretty color, people should appreciate it more. It's the color of my eyes and hair.
Back to the colors on the ground.
Tuscan brown.
Pale brown.
Otter brown.
Zinnwaldite brown.
Golden brown-
"Azail? Azail! Aza, answer me," vigorous shaking of my shoulders awakens me from my colorful trance.
Bringing my eyes to focus on what is in front of me, I notice my best friend.
How long has it been? No way I spent half an hour listing colors.
"Oh, hi Sapphire. Did you know your hair color is smoky black? Yeah, specific shades exist. Although I think smoky black looks the same as charcoal black, whatever. Did you know that jet black is a shade of brown? I think my eyes are that color-"
"Azail," Sapphire's stern voice interrupts.
"Aza, what's wrong?" Lyaly's voice questions. Oh, my other best friend is here.
Having both of them with me right now makes this more bearable.
"My parents kicked me out," I drop the words. No sugar-coating will make the situation less dire, so fuck it. Taste it at its bitterest stage.
"What the fuck, why?" Lyaly gasps.
Shocking.
"Anna made up some shit that convinced them of a contrasting synopsis about our forever-long rivalry."
Two pairs of light and dark eyes widen.
"I knew she's sick, but no way she's this sick," Sapphire reasons, taking a seat on my right.
I shrug, "well, surprise."
Lyaly crouches down in front of me, hands raising to my face before pausing.
"May I wipe your tears?"
That is when I notice that I'd begun crying at some point. Either way, I permit her, feeling too tired to do it myself. Soft fingers wipe the wetness under my eyes, but give up after said wetness doesn't feel like leaving. Sapphire sighs, wrapping their arm around my shoulder. Gentle tug gestures for me to rest my head on their shoulder, and I do. Putting effort to do so myself sounds tiring. Lyaly gets out a tissue from her purse and uses it to wipe my tears instead.
"I won't say shit about your parents because my words are nothing short of disrespectful, so I'll stay quiet."
"Me too," Lyaly agrees with Sapphire.
She disappears into the kitchen and returns with a cup of water. Sapphire grabs the cup and lifts it to my mouth, I take a few sips to satisfy them. Lyaly takes a seat to my left, and we're now a friendship sandwich. Haha. I don't laugh at that, I would have in other circumstances, but not now. Fuck, not even jokes can help.
Sapphire pulls my head off of their shoulder and moves to crouch in front of me the same way Lyaly did. With firm hands gripping my shoulders, they deliver even firmer words.
"I hope you know you don't have to worry about where you will stay, right? My home is yours, stay here for as long as you want. Help yourself to anything. It will be the same as before, except we will have daily sleepovers."
"I can't put that much pressure on you, Sapphie. I have money saved, I'll find a cheap place to rent."
It's true, as shocking as it sounds, but the money I've saved up sums to a high number. I'll take advantage of that.
"Are you fucking insane? Who said I would let you do that this soon after something like this happens? Do it months ahead, but not now. I don't want to leave you alone when you're this sad and defeated. Remember what you told us the first time the three of us met?"
"Never be sad alone, the more help you get, the better you will feel," Lyaly recalled from memory.
"My home is always open too, I would die for us to have daily sleepovers. To be honest, I don't care about why this happened. To me, it seemed inevitable considering how your parents are. All I care about is you, your safety, and your wellbeing. If those are good, I can provide the rest. Don't feel that you're adding a burden to us. How many times have you dropped everything to come to help us?" Lyaly looks at Sapphire, expecting an answer.
"More times than I can count, that's for fucking sure."
"We love you, Aza, and will provide the same helping hand you give us. Not because we owe you, but because you deserve it."
Fuck, the tears won't stop.
My silence from before impressed me, but their words made it vanish. A single sob broke out of me, followed by boisterous whimpering after that.
"Thank you, really," my post-crying voice whispers.
"Anything for you, Aza, anything."
I know they meant that, because not once have my friends broken their promise. Can't say the same about my parents.