WINTER
Collapsing onto my bed, I exhale deeply and reassure myself that everything will be alright. I had big plans for this summer—a few weeks of fun before starting university. My friends and I had been browsing last-minute holiday deals, and we even had tickets to a music festival. But then, in his typical fashion, my dad stepped in and ruined everything.
I saw it coming, but didn't expect it to be so soon.
I had hoped that agreeing to study his preferred subject and working for him would be enough—but evidently, it wasn't. A few years ago, I made the decision...
A few years back, I made a firm decision not to leave London for university. I cherish my life here, especially living with Mum, who happens to be one of my closest friends. It was when I began exploring university options that my dad suddenly chimed in, insisting I pursue accountancy and finance at The London School of Economics. He had meticulously researched it, convinced it was the ideal path for me to eventually join our family business. I struggled to keep a straight face when he emphasized the term "family."
I lose track of time lying on my bed, grappling with the idea that moving into his house with his new wife and her son might not be as terrible as it feels. Eventually, hunger pangs nudge me awake. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I survey the half-unpacked boxes scattered around me and release a heavy sigh. Maybe if I delay unpacking everything, I can avoid settling in completely. It's a fleeting hope. This is my reality now.
Disappointment washes over me as I navigate through the quiet house. I didn't expect a grand welcome, but some company would have been comforting. A helping hand to lug my belongings upstairs would have been even better. Since Dad moved in with Jenny a few years back, I've been encouraged to make myself at home here. But deep down, I know this place will never truly feel like home to me.
This place is merely a house—a pristine showcase devoid of the warmth that comes with everyday life. I tiptoe around, afraid to disturb its perfect facade. Home, to me, is a different concept altogether—it's where life unfolds in all its messy, loving glory.
My dad, he's not malicious, but he's driven by his ambitions. If others benefit along the way, it's incidental. As for Jenny, my stepmother, she's kind and dutiful, saying and doing all the right things. She's a wonderful mother figure, yet beneath her composed exterior, I sense a lingering sorrow in her eyes.
The fridge, as always, is stocked to the brim, though it's a mystery to me because I've rarely seen anyone eat a proper meal in this kitchen. I assemble a salad using some untouched fruits and vegetables, hoping it might lift my spirits, but being here still leaves me feeling hollow. Moving out of the cosy flat where Mum and I lived for years has left a void that even the crunch of lettuce leaves can't fill.
As I search through the cupboards, a smile creeps onto my face when I discover a hidden stash of indulgent treats tucked away at the back.
Collecting my thoughts, I gather my hair into a casual bun and focus on preparing something comforting. The kitchen is bathed in the warm, golden hues of sunset, lending it a faintly inviting aura. My stomach growls with anticipation as I drizzle melted chocolate over crushed biscuits and marshmallows, a treat I managed to resist until now.
Dressed in a tank top and shorts, I decide to pamper myself with a hot chocolate and wrap myself in a cozy blanket. Carrying my bowl of sweet indulgence outside onto the deck, along with a magazine, I find solace in the comforting taste of chocolate. Perhaps immersing myself in this moment of indulgence will briefly distract me from what lies ahead this summer.
As I wait for the kettle to boil, a sudden chill grips me, sending a shiver down my spine. It's probably just the sheer size of this house that unnerves me. I've seen enough horror movies to know there are countless hiding spots in a place this large.
I freeze momentarily, straining to listen, but when all remains quiet, I resume my task. That is, until a low, menacing voice pierces the silence. "Wow, stepdad sure knows how to pick 'em these days." His words are slurred with anger, sending a wave of goosebumps across my skin and a lump into my throat.
"You look too innocent, too pure to be with that jerk," he spits out bitterly.