c3

The thought of being forced into a marriage with a man eerily similar to her father was suffocating. She had always been close to her father, but spending the rest of her life with someone who reminded her of him in every way was too much to bear. She knew that her family's traditions and expectations were weighing heavily on her, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was losing control of her life.

As the sun began to set, she made a silent vow to herself to find a way to break free from the chains that bound her and forge her path, no matter the cost.

The room was quiet, save for the sound of my breathing. Suddenly, a soft knock interrupted the stillness. I hesitated momentarily, wondering who could be calling at this hour. With a sense of curiosity, I rose from my seat and went to the door.

Lily's mother gently pushed open the door to her daughter's room and softly called out her name, "Lily?" With a heavy heart, I uttered my mother's name through gritted teeth, my face contorting in a deep frown.

The overwhelming sense of misery consumed me, leaving me feeling utterly defeated. As tears streamed down my face, my mother enveloped me in a warm embrace. She held me tightly, her arms encircling me, whispering soothing words in my ear. Despite the pain and sadness that consumed me, her presence brought comfort and security. Thanks to her unwavering love and support, I felt a little better with each passing moment.

She sat alone in her room, staring blankly at the wall. The weight of her unhappiness felt heavy on her chest, suffocating her.

She knew deep down that she could do nothing to change what had happened. It was a bitter pill, but she had to accept it. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to find peace.

As I sat there, feeling lost and alone, she came over and touched my back gently. Her touch was soothing, and I could feel the tension in my muscles begin to ease.

"Your father confided in me today," she said softly, "about his plans. If I had known sooner, I would have tried to stop him." Her words were a balm to my troubled mind, and I felt grateful for her kindness.

"I know," I whispered, pulling my mother into an even tighter embrace. A heavy silence descended as soon as the words left my mother's lips. I could feel the weight of her disapproval, even though she refused to look at me.

I knew what she was thinking—that I was making a mistake and going against everything my family stood for. But I couldn't help the way I felt. "Your brothers, especially Mark, are not going to be happy about this," she repeated, her voice strained. I could tell she was struggling to keep her emotions in check.

I sighed, knowing that this was going to be a difficult conversation. "I know, Mom. But I have to do what's right for me." She finally looked up at me, her eyes filled with sadness and anger. "And what about your family? Don't you care about what we think?" "Of course I do," I said, trying to calm my voice. "But I can't live my life according to what everyone else wants. I have to follow my path."

My mother shook her head, her expression one of disappointment. "I just hope you know what you're doing. Your brothers are going to be so upset." I knew she was right. My brothers had always been the golden boys of the family, who followed in my father's footsteps and did everything right. And here I was, going against the grain and doing something sure to upset them.

But I couldn't help it.

I had to be true to myself, even if it meant going against my family's expectations. It was a risk, but I was willing to take it. She let out a deep sigh and shook her head, her eyes filled with disappointment.

As the youngest of six siblings, I always felt like I was constantly vying for attention. My four older brothers, Stephen, Ben, Savi, and Mark, were all so different from each other, but they all seemed to have their unique bond with each other. I never felt like I reasonably fit in with any of them. But then something unexpected happened.

I found myself getting along with Mark more than anyone else. It was strange because we were so different from each other. He was always the quiet one, while I was more outgoing. He was into sports, while I was more interested in music and art. But despite our differences, we just clicked. I remember one summer when we spent hours sitting on the porch, talking about everything and nothing. We talked about our hopes, dreams, fears, and insecurities.

We were the only two people in the world, and nothing else mattered. Years later, Mark and I still have a special connection. We may not see each other as often as we used to, but whenever we do, it's like no time has passed at all. He's still quiet, and I'm still outgoing, but somehow, we work.

As they sat around the campfire, the group of friends couldn't help but reflect on how close they all were to age.

Each was only a year apart; they had grown up together and experienced many of life's milestones. It was a comforting thought, knowing that they had each other to lean on as they navigated the ups and downs of adulthood.

The siblings were all born and raised in France, yet they were forbidden from learning the language of their homeland. Their father, a man with connections to the Mafia, often spoke in French with his associates and friends.