Emperor of Mayhem

01

[ A/N: you know, this is the very first draft. so there's nothing you're looking for that you won't find; is it grammatical errors? you will find them scattered here like graffiti. plotholes? oh, don't even get me started on that. poor vocabulary? english is an adopted language so yeah, have mercy on me. but all these flaws aside, I really hope you'll enjoy my book 🤍🤍]

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// T H E B I R T H D A Y G I R L \\

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My eighteenth birthday objectionably, in the most disappointing way possible, fell short of my glory.

I mean, this was a moment I had waited for half of my life. I was gyrating every time I clocked a year older, another precious year closer to the age I could go to jail or become the president of some country, perhaps.

Why?

It was because growing up, mom made everything about becoming an adult. I couldn't wear any clothes I desired until I was eighteen. I couldn't make my own choices or decisions on my own terms until I was eighteen. I wasn't allowed to like a boy to the extent of making any certain move until I was eighteen. I wasn't allowed to accept a boy's feelings or proposals until I was eighteen when I would be old enough to handle a broken heart. I wasn't allowed to travel round the world until I was eighteen. I wasn't allowed to go to parties unless it was a girl or boy between the age of one and fourteen that invited me.

I wasn't allowed to live until I was eighteen.

I was...trapped.

And no, mom was a beautiful woman deep down to her heart and soul. She was my best and only friend, the person I would run to when things go South for me. My mother was everything to me and I loved her like the night loved the moon. But she was ruthless in the terms of training me. I guessed she owed that to her mother who was a vicious disciplinarian too. I was sure grandma was the reason mom grew up with such a sense of reasoning that she ended up exerting it on me subconsciously.

I was a bird who would love nothing but to spread her wings and fly the height of an eagle, but my mother restricted me until I was eighteen where I would be strong enough to handle it when the wind would get too strong and knock me back down to the hard surface.

These; these reasons and more were why my ultimate goal was to become an adult. That was my ticket to freedom. That was when I would be able to tell if I wanted to be a career woman or a housewife who just loved to freeload off her husband.

And finally, today was the day. The day I turned eighteen.

The 8th of November 2021.

But it sucked.

I thought I would wake up feeling like I just stepped out into a brighter room, the weather like none that I had experienced before. I thought a cool air of adulthood would hit me in the most refreshing way possible. I thought there would be a standing ovation, echo of claps, and perhaps, if I was overly lucky, a car key handed to me.

But I woke up today sad, drenching in sweat because I had a dream that a monster with eighteen for a head chased me to the edge of a cliff and watched me fall.

With the text from dad who was miles way for work glaring at me on my phone's screen, I felt such deep sorrow when I was supposed to be the happiest girl in the world.

And I wanted to cry. So I cried. And I couldn't wipe my tears or blow my runny nose because we were out of tissues. So I cried even more.

I felt depressed and lonely. Nothing in or about my body changed too. I didn't grow taller.