Cold Truths | H.S.

Prologue

December 6th Last Year

My father sat tall in his mahogany office chair, surrounded by bookshelves adorned with the thousand-page Gray's Anatomy textbook at the center of countless Greek reference books. His chair sat stationary in front of a wall of framed degrees from Johns Hopkins University. His wire frames sat on his face carefully so as not to slide down the bridge of his nose. In his posture he was intimidating, looking like he was ready to stand up and march across the room at any second.

"Don't be absurd Davina, you will enroll in pre-med courses next semester to be on track for medical school once you graduate. End of discussion."

I paced back and forth at the front of his desk, picking at my fingernails, thinking of ways to get my parents to understand. My Tiffany bracelet glinted as it caught the light from the crystal chandelier hanging above. It was a gift from my parents when I graduated high school but now it felt more like a handcuff restraining me to a life I did not want.

"Are you even listening to what I'm saying?" My father called out.

My cheeks suddenly felt hot as my lower lip began to tremble. It was hard to keep my composure. I was angry. Every demand, instruction and dismissive tone directed at me throughout my life all came to the surface. The lump in my throat was only growing larger. I moved my hand to the base of my throat to smooth down the ache that had been crawling up and threatening to escape in the form of a sob. Or a scream.

"Yes, I'm listening, I've been listening to you for 21 years!" I snapped.

"You're acting childish and ungrateful. Your mom and I have worked so hard to get you a good education."

I looked over to my mom hoping to gain some support on my case, but her face remained still and cold. My face fell as I quickly realized that I was officially on my own. My sadness quickly shifted back to anger. My skin felt as if it was emanating heat, my cheeks were burning hot and the ache in my throat was unbearable. In a quick motion I slammed my hands on the clean and perfectly decorated desk, rattling the pens and trinkets that were once still.

"I don't want to be a doctor! I don't care that you are a successful brain surgeon, I don't care that you think you know what's best for me, I don't care!"

My voice rang loud, bouncing off the walls and the tears that I fought so hard to keep in swiftly fled down my cheeks landing on the back of my hands. My mom's eyes widened looking over at my father. He took off his glasses, calmly placing them on the desk. I stepped back slightly taking my hands off of where I was gripping the desk and took a deep breath. As I exhaled, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I waited for him to speak.

"Fine, have it your way. You are cut off. Indefinitely."

His voice was unaffected.

"You will pay for your own tuition from now on and you will find your own place to live by the new year."

"Dad."

"Have your things out by January 1st."

The air turned cold as he left the room swiftly. It felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room once the door shut. That ache in my throat returned but didn't show mercy. I choked out a sob as I tried to process that I was being kicked out by my own blood. I turned around to face my mom hoping that since he had left, she would say something. Anything at all. Or even a sympathetic look to assure me that he was just upset and would come back and apologize for lashing out. She only shook her head, following my father's steps.