c5

How could he make such a choice without consulting me first? I struggled to control my emotions, knowing that any outburst would only make things worse. Instead, I nodded, my silence a testament to the weight of his authority. Ben's anger boiled over as he slammed his fist on the table, causing the dishes to rattle.

His voice echoed through the room as he shouted, "She's only 18!" The intensity of his emotions was palpable, and those around him could feel the weight of his words. Darryl's eyes welled up with tears as he looked at Mamá with anger and disbelief. "How can you just stand by and let this happen?" he cried indignantly. Mark was fuming, his finger jabbing in my direction as my mother tried to soothe him. "She's just a kid; you can't do this," he seethed. I could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.

My heart raced as I watched the scene unfold, unsure of what would happen next. She sat at the table, her appetite gone. Only the sound of her fork tapping against the plate broke the silence in the room. She couldn't bring herself to take a bite; her mind was too preoccupied with the day's events. So she sat there, lost in thought, as the world around her continued to move on.

As I sat at the table with my siblings, the air was filled with a cacophony of sounds. They were laughing, shouting, and banging their utensils against the plates. On the other hand, I chose to remain silent, not wanting to contribute to the already chaotic atmosphere.

Instead, I observed their antics with amusement and annoyance, wondering when they would tire themselves out.

The sudden outburst of my father's voice echoed through the room, causing us all to jump in fear. "Stop!" he bellowed, his eyes blazing with anger. The tension in the air was palpable as we waited for him to speak again.

The room fell silent as my father's words hung in the air. His jaw was tight, and his eyes were narrowed in frustration. He exhaled sharply and spat out his words through clenched teeth. "I have a headache, and I don't have time for this argument," he said. "It's happening whether you lads agree with it or not." His tone was final, leaving no room for negotiation. We all knew better than to push him when he was in this mood.

So we sat silently, watching as he stormed out of the room, leaving us to contemplate our next move. Sitting in the living room, I couldn't help but overhear my father's conversation with his friends.

He spoke of my brother's men in a tone that seemed to be laced with mockery. He was clearly making fun of them, but I couldn't quite understand why. Perhaps it was his way of asserting dominance over them, or maybe he enjoyed belittling others. Whatever the reason, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as I listened to his words.

It was as if he was trying to diminish their worth in the eyes of others, and I couldn't help but wonder what my brother's men thought of my father's words.

Mark stormed out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. His agitation was palpable, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern. I sat at the table, alone with my thoughts, wondering what could have caused such a sudden outburst.

"I will," Stephen replied, his knife pointed straight at me. I was convinced that changing my father's mind was an impossible task. He had always favored boys; I couldn't imagine anyone persuading him otherwise. I gave a slight nod, hoping to quell the heated debate that had been raging between us.

Savi gently patted my head as he rose from the table while walking past me. I couldn't help but smile at the small gesture of affection. We must depart to train Lily," he said, grabbing his coat from the hook by the door.

"We shall return shortly. Savi could feel the hot breaths of her pursuers on the back of her neck. Ben, Stephen, and Darryl were relentless in their pursuit, their footsteps pounding the pavement just inches behind her. She could hear their heavy breathing and the rustling of their clothes as they closed in on her.

Savi's heart raced as she pushed herself to run faster, her legs burning with the effort. She knew she couldn't keep this up much longer but refused to let them catch her. She had to find a way to escape, to lose them in the maze of streets and alleys ahead.

As they finished caressing my head, my hair was left in disarray.

With a grin, I reached up to fix my hair, shaking my head slightly as I did so. Sitting at the dinner table, she couldn't help but feel frustrated. Despite her age, her family continued to treat her like a child.

They spoke to her in a condescending tone and made decisions for her without even consulting her. It was as if they didn't trust her to make her own choices.

She longed for the day when they would see her as an adult, capable of making decisions and living her own life. But for now, she was stuck in this frustrating limbo, feeling like a child in a world of adults.

As she gazed down at the remnants of her meal, my mother spoke with a tinge of remorse in her voice.

"Your brothers care for you deeply," she said, her eyes fixed on me.

Mark's mother's voice trembled as she spoke, "He couldn't even look at me; he was so disgusted," a tear rolling down her cheek.

As I stood by the sink, the warm water running over my dish, I turned to face her. "Mamá," I said softly, "it's okay. It's not your fault." Her eyes were downcast, and her shoulders slumped in defeat. I could feel the weight of her guilt and shame in the air between us. But I knew that I couldn't let her carry that burden alone.

So I spoke the words I hoped would ease her pain, even a little bit. And as I watched her slowly lift her head to meet my gaze, I knew we would get through this together.

As I stood there, lost in thought, my mother approached me with a solemn expression on her face. "He told me just before he told you," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

I looked at her, trying to decipher the meaning behind her words. What was she trying to tell me? I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease wash over me as I waited for her to elaborate. Looking into his eyes, I could see the anger boiling within him.

It was as if a storm was brewing, ready to unleash its fury at any moment. Despite my best efforts, I knew that there was nothing I could do to calm him down. His rage was beyond my control, and I could only watch as he vented his frustration.

She looked at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would grasp the weight of her words. "I just hope you understand," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. He nodded slowly, his expression unreadable.

She couldn't tell if he genuinely comprehended the depth of her emotions or if he was humoring her. Either way, she knew she had done all she could. It was up to him now to decide what to do with the information she had given him.

As I sat there, lost in thought, she delicately brushed my hair away from my face with her hand.