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247Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡicYuWpj2rH
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Unreasonable Figure
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🔸Some people exist solely to inflict pain, and they are meticulously punctual when it’s time to leave.🔸
🔸Others are like beacons in the darkness, arriving exactly when you’re in dire need of their light.🔸
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Crystal Valerie Beck
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Mum handed me the last cookie on the tray, prompting my brother to snort in derision. “Dad’s coming today,” he announced, causing my expression to sour immediately. I wasn’t in the mood for more negativity. “Can’t he just not?” I whispered.
I saw no reason for his visits; they were nothing more than opportunities for him to berate us or undermine any confidence we had in our progress.
“I’m going out with my friends,” my brother declared, rising from his seat, crumbs cascading from his shirt. His tone left no room for negotiation. “You should sweep that,” I said, he turned to glare at me before flashing me the middle finger, ensuring Mum didn’t see.
I considered making an excuse to leave as well, but I couldn’t bring myself to abandon Mum since dad decided to inspect the progress he’d never cared to support.
“I really don’t want to see him,” I murmured to Mum as I finished the last of my milk. “You have to; he sent child support last week,” she said firmly. I almost laughed but stopped myself upon realizing she wasn’t joking.
“Once in eight months, Mum,” I retorted. She sighed deeply, the weight of it palpable. “We can take him back to court if he’s not going to contribute. He’s just complicating everything, and I could do without his relentless criticism.” The frustration in her voice was unmistakable. “So, you’re not seeing him today,” she concluded.
“I will,” I conceded, knowing my brother had already made his escape. “I could use his invaluable complaints,” I added, finishing my milk with a sigh.
In retrospect, opting for a hamburger and coke would have been a wiser choice.
And before you ask, yes, junk food is acceptable in the morning. We don’t want to burden Mum with cooking after her exhausting workdays. Plus, I avoid any activity requiring mental effort before noon—it’s a recipe for disaster.
“I’m going back to bed,” I declared. It was Saturday, my favorite day of the week. No tutoring sessions, just me, my K-pop oppas, and an extended nap.
“You don’t have any tutoring today?” Mum asked, visibly relieved. She frets more about my schedule than I do. “Nope, it’s Saturday. I’ll meet Dad at six,” I informed her as I ascended the stairs. “Could you call him and let him know? If he arrives early, I won’t be able to extricate myself in time.” She nodded in understanding, and I continued to my room.
I had no intention of sleeping; the nap was just a convenient excuse to delay the inevitable. But Mum wouldn’t accept my true motive—she didn’t consider catching up on K-pop news a productive use of my free time.
She’s supportive of everything I do, but she prefers that I rest on my days off.
I reached for my laptop, only to discover it was off. How was I supposed to stay updated on Ace’s latest news when Weverse was only available on my laptop? I cursed under my breath, frustrated with myself for forgetting to charge it. Sure, I could plug it in and wait, but after watching a video of a girl’s phone exploding while charging, I had developed an irrational fear of using electronics while they’re plugged in.
My frustration mounted as I repeatedly kicked my leg against the bed, and inevitably, I struck the nightstand. Pain shot through my leg, and I buried my face in a pillow to stifle the scream.
After releasing my frustration into the pillow, I felt marginally better. I had anticipated the day would be challenging from the moment Dad called. At this point, a nap seemed like the best way to escape further aggravation.
🔸🔸🔸🔸
I groaned as I fumbled to locate my phone. The ringing persisted, and I was too lethargic to open my eyes. "Hello?" I answered groggily without checking the caller ID.
“I’ve been waiting for you for thirty minutes, Valerie, and you’re still sleeping,” my dad reprimanded. “I’m not sleeping; I’m on my way,” I lied, suddenly wide awake. I rushed to the closet, frantically searching for a hoodie.
But I couldn’t find a single one. I have eight hoodies, yet none were in sight. I rummaged through the clothes Mum helped me put away yesterday and found my favorite dress.
I’d worn it just a few days ago, and here I was, donning it again. I slipped on my flats with the little bow on them—there was no need to dress up since this wasn’t a date. I rarely bother with makeup; I’m hopeless with it, so lip gloss is as far as I go.
I rushed out of my room, praying I wouldn’t trip down the stairs—those stairs seem to have it out for me. “Mum, I’m leaving!” I shouted into the quiet house, noting the lights were all off. I despise the sprint to the bus stop; it’s the absolute worst.
My labored breathing was probably audible from a mile away. I called Dad to ask where to meet him, and he just snorted into the phone. Should I just turn around and go back home? It wouldn’t kill him to answer a question civilly. Why is he always so irritable? Sure, I’m late, but everyone is tardy now and then. Okay, maybe an hour late is a bit excessive. My phone dinged with his text—he was nearby. I dragged my feet to the café he mentioned, entirely unenthused about seeing him.
I scanned the café but couldn’t spot him. He usually wore khaki, so he was easy to find. I was about to call him when I saw him waving at me. He was in a suit. What’s the occasion?
“Good evening, sir. Sorry for being late,” I said, adopting my best professional tone. “I know you didn’t want to see me, but do you have to make it this obvious?” he asked, and I bit back a retort. I wasn’t going to argue; I’d just go along with whatever he said until this ordeal was over. “And don’t you think that dress is a little short?” he added. I glanced down—the hem was just above my knee—but remained silent.
“You finished high school last year. Why aren’t you in college?” His tone was accusatory. Did he really not know? It’s just Mum working odd jobs, and she can’t afford to pay tuition for both of us. So, I decided to work for a couple of years to ease her burden. “I’m sorry,” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm, though I doubted he noticed.
If he sent child support regularly, as he’s supposed to, I’d be in college now, I thought as he continued his litany of criticisms. His words cut deeper, especially when he said, “Eat like a fucking girl.” I kept apologizing, desperately trying to maintain my composure.
He sent child support this month. He sent child support this month. I repeated in my head, trying to stay calm. As I reached for my drink, someone bumped into my chair, causing the beverage to spill all over me—even soaking through to my underwear.
Furious, I turned to confront them, but a woman quickly sat down next to my dad, kissing him on the lips. Was she flaunting their relationship in front of me?
Well she can keep him.
I assumed she was my soon-to-be stepmother, arriving late like me but receiving a warm welcome from Dad. He didn’t scold her for spilling the drink or for being tardy. Instead, he smiled at her, which only fueled my frustration.
“I’m going to clean up,” I muttered, avoiding eye contact. I didn’t want to break down in front of them. Despite my efforts to support myself, Dad never had a kind word for me, but he was clearly infatuated with this woman.
Feeling suffocated, I reluctantly greeted her when Dad prompted me. His sudden outburst demanding I speak only heightened my discomfort. I attempted small talk, but the tension was suffocating.
When they announced their upcoming marriage and her pregnancy, I struggled to hold back tears. I endured their conversation in silence, waiting for them to finish.
Excusing myself to the restroom, I felt an overwhelming need to escape. The cold air against my wet dress only added to my discomfort, and I decided not to return to the table, leaving with nothing but my phone.
This is why I always bring a jacket with me—I get cold easily and often catch colds. I shouldn’t have worn this dress; now it’s ruined, and I’m freezing.
I’m not afraid of walking in the dark; I often return home at midnight
Hugging myself, I walked as quickly as I could, desperate to get home, crawl into bed and lose my self in my favourite Korean drama, that's about the only thing that could cheer me up right now
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