(ON HOLD) jade decides to die → victorious

5

Jade never came home late. In spite of her tough exterior, she was never to break rules. She always did her homework on time, studied hard, and came home before her legal curfew.

Yet, it was never enough.

All because she had chosen her own way. Now she was stuck being labelled as “the black sheep”. And her little brother would follow suit, Jade suspected. It always went this way, didn't it? It was happening to Jade, and it was being used as an example in her family, a negative example of what happened when one supposedly betrayed the family.

As Jade stepped through the threshold of her mother's house, the atmosphere immediately crackled with tension. The walls seemed to close in on her, suffocating her even further. Not even at home she could find the peace she craved.

Immediately, her mother began barking at her.

“Why are you late again?”

Jade's heart would drop every time her mother cried at her. Every single day, she would hope things would be different. At least before Hollywood Arts, her mother could act somewhat civil towards her even if it was nothing compared to how

Perhaps Jade should have just kept everything to herself and stayed at her old school. Maybe if she hadn't rebelled.

Part of her knew, however, that she was right to have chosen her own path. Even if now she wanted to die, at least she had experienced the possibility of attempting to take control over her own life, and secretly it made her feel proud of herself.

“It's only five thirty, Mom,” Jade said calmly. School ended at five. Jade hadn't made any stops after school, as always.

Her mother's reaction, however, was far from benign. “Don't take that tone with me, young lady. Ever since you joined that goddamn circus school, you've been causing nothing but trouble!” Her voice, a harsh discord, sliced through the air.

"I wasn't late today, Mom. I don't know why you always say that," Jade retorted, her attempt to clarify met with a scoff of dismissiveness.

"You're always late, always acting like a hoodlum. I can't believe I have to deal with your drama every day. Why can't you be like the other children, Jade? Why can't you be more like Alyssa Vaughan?”, her mother spat, seizing the opportunity to unravel the tightly wound threads of their strained relationship.

Jade, well-acquainted with the ebb and flow of these verbal tempests, fought to maintain her composure. “I love arts, Mom, I'm just trying to do what I love, I've never dared to give you, or Dad, or the rest of our family a reason to be embarrassed of me," she asserted, her words falling on deaf ears.

Her mother, fueled by a seemingly bottomless well of discontent, escalated the confrontation. "You're just a drama queen. Always wanting attention.”

The verbal sparring spiraled into a screaming match, each word a weapon wielded in their ongoing battle for dominance. Jade, desperate to shield her younger brother from the emotional shrapnel, pleaded, "Mom, he's just a child. Don't yell in front of him."

But Jade's plea fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the tirade of insults and accusations hurled at her. The echo of her mother's resentful tirade reverberated within the walls of their home, a stark reminder of the emotional minefield Jade navigated daily.

After the storm subsided, Jade retreated to her room, the weight of their argument settling heavily on her shoulders. In the solace of her sanctuary, she sought refuge from the chaos outside. The evening unfolded against the backdrop of strained relationships and the resilient spirit of a girl determined to find pockets of peace amidst the tempest of her turbulent life.