What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone
- Stronger, Kelly Clarkson
...
My room smells of sweat and tears, could have some blood here but there's no bloodbath happening— only a war of the mind. Lips biting into the poor pen as I scrolled through the documents that Brandon handed us before; the feeling of failure was calling me in the back of my head and I refused but God! How I wish to just give up but I can't.
Mom would give me those looks of 'I knew it' and I would live my life doing a job I don't even like.
Giving up will mean going to the office, sitting there for hours as I typed in some few numbers, which I'm great at a disadvantage of, and doing the same shit over and over again.
I will make my mother see that working in the publishing house is as stable as other 'normal' jobs.
I was so concentrated on my screen that with a knock from my bedroom door I almost face-planted myself to the floor.
"Esperanza! It's dinner time!"
"Seriously, ma? Can't you kno-" she knocked and that scared the hell out of me. "I'm busy, I already told you!" I yelled back.
Apparently, my mother loved the idea of yelling back and forth. "Get your ass down here! You're too rude to the food!"
I chew my cheeks in annoyance, my eyes still trained on the screen as she continues lecturing me.
"-do you know how much kids are left starving and here you are wasting food-"
"Oh God Mom I'm coming down!" I said in exasperation, I think I got my stubbornness from my mom and it is officially starting to wear down on me.
"Are you shouting at your mother?" Mom questioned sternly behind the doors and I was glad that it was closed or else I'll suffer from getting lectured again for rolling my eyes.
"I'm not, just replying to you the way you did before" I replied and gathered my fallen sheets and pillows before closing my netbook.
Pinched the home slippers under my bed I opened the door and faced my mother who looked like she wanted to for me another earful.
"You didn't even fix your shirt, tsk. Change back to something nice" she ordered and I have this annoying groan fleeing from my nostrils.
"This is our home Ma, not the runway show" I sassily replied and got her glare in the back of my head as I got down the stairs.
Uncle Carson was talking to Manang Julia on the front door, he looks serious at that point and I was starting to feel curious about the reason. Uncle Carson was typically gentle and understanding, it feels like I've never seen him angry before— well, now that I'm thinking about it I do remember one time he got so furious.
I grab a glass of water for both mine and my mother's as the chairs scrapped to the tiles mutely; I hear the doors closing in before Uncle Carson's warm voice drifted to my ears as well as the smooch from both of him and my mother. Ugh.
"Espe, how's your work?" He initiated as I pierce on my braised chicken.
"Wonderful" my sarcastic tone must have wiggled on his waist making him laugh.
My mother looked at me pointedly and I ignore it. She still hasn't given up on the fact that I'm working on a job that isn't profitable and as stable as the job that could be offered for me by Uncle Carson.
YOU ARE READING
Can I date you?
Random"Can I date you?" His brows were very expressive and now the light of his green eyes shone when I showed a difficult expression; it was after all reflected in his eyes. "No" His body that was crouched to level against my small frame stood up; he w...
