Beneath the Shadows

9. Strange moments

I spend the rest of the afternoon locked in my room, engrossed in my artworks. Zeus, my loyal companion, perched on the desk next to the paintbrushes and the glass of water to clean them.

As I meticulously clean the bristles of the brush, a melody escapes my lips, a light hum that echoes in the room. The rhythmic strokes of the brush against the palette create a soothing rhythm, adding to the tranquil atmosphere.

"Well, good for you, I guess you're getting everything you want... career's really taking off... mh... mh... what the fuck is up with that?" I hum.

A soft knock interrupts the peaceful solitude.

"Come in," I say, setting down the brush and turning towards the door as my father enters the room. "Hey, Dad."

"Sweetheart, a colleague of mine who also works as a professor at the University of Medicine is coming to visit this weekend," he says after positioning himself behind me and looking at my drawings.

"Mh..." I nod as I tidy up my materials. My father places his hands on my shoulders, his touch gentle and comforting, before running his fingers through my hair.

"I would like you to be there too, so we can talk about your future." he continues, his voice filled with warmth and determination.

"Dad... don't you think that..." I begin to voice my thoughts, but he interrupts me.

"I understand that your entrance exam and the interview with the admissions committee are still a long way off, but it's never too early to start envisioning your future," he says, his words carrying a mix of fatherly pride and encouragement.

"Okay, I'll be there... but I want you to give me my own time. Don't rush me into anything. I will enroll in university and do what needs to be done, but let me handle it on my own," I ask him.

"Alright, princess, I promise. You're just like your mother when you paint..." he says, smiling. "You're beautiful."

Mention of my mother evokes a bittersweet longing within me, tinged with memories and the pain of her absence but also hate and saddness.

"Speaking of Mom... can you talk to her for me? Let her know that I won't be able to visit her this weekend," I ask, a tinge of hesitation lacing my words. The thought of having to argue with my mother just to reschedule a weekend visit is not a priority for me right now. Sending her a message would only result in a phone call from her, and I'm not ready to subject myself to the emotional manipulation and guilt-tripping that often accompanies our conversations.

"Of course, I'll handle it," my father assures me with his unwavering support.

"Thank you, Dad."

When my father leaves the room, I change into comfortable clothes for my run. As I put on my shoes before heading out, I see my brother rushing in.

"Hey, Benji, everything okay?" I ask, noticing the unease etched across his face. He halts near the doorway, his gaze fixated upon me, seated on the floor as I secure my shoelaces.

"Yeah... where are you headed?" he asks with worry.

"For a run and then to the gym."

"Go straight to the gym, don't go running. It's late now, and it's already dark," he says, lowering himself and taking hold of my hands to stop me. I'm about to speak, but he immediately cuts me off. "Please, just listen to me for today."

He seems very agitated, as if something has happened. I remember the guy who followed me earlier today. "Benji, did something happen?" He shakes his head at my question.