The Professor

Chapter 9

 I stepped out of the Uber and was met by chilly weather. It was already pitch dark by seven pm, with the clouds concealing the moon.

I stood in front of the one place I least desired to be. My parent's house. Should I just sit on the front steps and wait for Heather? No. It would be awkward if my mom came out and found her daughter, who never visits, sitting on her porch without saying anything.

At the door, I closed my eyes and proceeded to knock. Moments later, loud footsteps barreled to the door, and it shot wide open. I looked down angrily at my little brother. "Didn't mom teach you how to answer the door? What if I was a kidnapper?" The little brat stuck out his tongue and ran away.

My mother's house was decent in stature. It was just like any ordinary upper-class family house. Four beds, two baths, second floor, and a two-car garage. What more can you ask for?

I removed my sneakers at the front door and placed them on the rack. My father sat on the living room couch, watching a football game. He didn't even acknowledge or conclude that his daughter had entered the house. He didn't turn around or anything. I swear I could have walked in and massacred my family if I wanted to.

"Hi, dad?"

Without turning around, he waved towards the kitchen, "Yea, just put the pizza on the counter. The tip is on the corner. Thank you."

This is how dysfunctional my family is and why I never visit these fuckers. Yet, they call me the disgraceful daughter because I want nothing to do with them.

"Well, well, well."

I turned towards the stairs. My mother stopped halfway, arms crossed, and this spitful smile painted on her face. "If it isn't my ungrateful daughter."

"Hey, Mom," I held back an attitude. It would only make things worse. I can't tell you the last time me and her had a conversation where we weren't bickering at one another.

"Who should I thank for your presence?" she said sarcastically.

My mom wore A lovely dress, a fancy overcoat, and make-up.

"Going somewhere?"

"Yes, I am. I ordered the boys some pizza. You can stay if you want. Your father is distracted by the magic box on the wall, and your brother is running around somewhere."

This was the most generous she had ever been to me, at least since I can remember. When she walked by, I was hit with perfume I had never smelled. She looked at me like she could read my mind but said nothing.

"Why are you here? Do you need money?" She asked as she slipped her shoes on.

"No, mother. A friend is picking me up from here."

My mom put her purse down and smirked at me. "A boy?"

"No."

"Hmmm. When is the next time you will bless us with your presence? I take it never again?"

Sometimes it was hard to be respectful to her. To this day, I don't quite understand how I manage to keep my sanity, especially my father. He's the one that married her. "Mom, where are you going?"

"Out," My mom slammed the door behind her. Cannot believe I popped out of the most treacherous bitch, and my dad is no better. He doesn't even fight back. He just sits there and stares at sports as if he is being hypnotized. She could bring in another man, fuck him on the floor before him, and he would not notice.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Heather texted me, saying she was here. Thank God. Cannot stand another moment in this house. Sure enough, parked on the side street, a blue SUV. It felt great to bolt out of the door and escape this hell hole that once consumed my life.