Page 19 of Until Ace

Mand

I turn the key in the ignition and shut down my car with a huge sigh.

I don’t want to be here.

Looking to my left, I see a magazine-quality house. God, I used to love this house. I used to call it home. Now, it’s the bane of my existence. Well, not the house, per se. More its inhabitants.

I wish I could start my car back up and just drive away. Drive to somewhere I can be free of all this bullshit, free from all of them constantly demanding something of me, free to just be me.

The trees in front of it provide a blanket of shade. I used to spend hours lying in the grass, daydreaming about what my life would look like, what I would do, see… and who I would love. Now, that shade foreshadows the gloom inside.

I look up to the window of my former bedroom.

Fuck, why does this always hurt? Why wasn’t I enough just as I was? As I am.

Why does everything have to fall on my shoulders?

It’s impossible to live up to everyone's standards, but dammit, compared to my siblings, I’m the most collected one out of all of us. And that’s not tooting my own horn. That’s a fact.

I moved out as soon as I could and got a job, a nice apartment, and found a few good friends. Of course, my mom didn’t approve. I was stupid, because I fell in love during my second year of college, and as it almost always goes, my grades suffered. I couldn’t keep up and ended up dropping out. But I was madly in love, right?

A mistake I now own up to, but back then, I was too blind to see it.

Still, that’s not a mistake they have to live with.

I have to live with it just like everything else. I don't shove it under the rug. I know, one day, I will have a college degree, a good house—one that will be a loving home—and a job that will fulfill and challenge me. Everything I set my eyes on will be mine. Why? Because I will work myself ragged if I have to, to achieve my goals. I’m not afraid of hard work.

I never was. I won’t ride on someone's coattails. I don't expect anything to be handed to me on a silver platter, and I won’t demand anyone to get it for me. And to be honest, all this misery, all this heartache… I kind of consider it my way of paying, my penance, for my bright future. No one has gotten anything for free. Why should I be an exception? I’m nothing special.

When my family becomes too much, I think of my future, and I know, deep in my soul, that’s the way I’m paying for it. I just have to be strong enough to get through it so I can reach the light.

But the more shit they pile on me, the harder it’s becoming to see that future. The light is becoming dimmer by the day, and the images in my head are starting to fade.

I don’t think they’ll let me out of their grip. I have to find the strength in me to somehow break the chains myself. Getting that promotion was supposed to be my first step toward freedom.

But I won’t give up. Giving up on my dreams would be the same as giving up on myself.

No, I will get it done.

“You can do it, Mandy,” I mutter to myself, knowing how sad it is that I need encouragement to face my own family and to do what needs to be done so I can move forward.

I need to get out from under their thumb. The problem is, I don't know how. I want it; I want to be free so much, but the chain they have around my neck seems unbreakable.

“Damn.” I sigh, shutting my eyes tight, and swallow the lump in my throat.

It's pathetic, this need I have for their approval, her approval. Her love.

Great, now I’ve bummed myself out even more. I need to snap out of this pity party and get on with living my life. But first, I must deal with the shit my brother has been piling on me steadily for years, and I can’t do that by sitting in the car and going down the “poor me” rabbit hole.

But they’ll have to help.

She will have to help.

Because I can’t do this alone, no matter how hard I try.

I take another deep breath and get out of the car.

“That’s it.” If someone could hear me muttering encouragements to myself, they would surely think I’m crazy. No one knows what goes on behind those closed doors.