My family didn’t come from diamonds and gold.
So, they placed their heavy-crushing dreams and goals on my shoulders to achieve them. Everyone from my blood depended on me to be the first to graduate after failure after failure from generation after generation. However, some dreams were meant to stay that way, and some people were born to be condemned as a failure.
And maybe I might become one of them.
Although, I have yet to see and digest the situation that stumbled upon me on a Sunday morning. My parents had me sit on our shabby couch that got passed down from my old uncle Earnie. They each held mug in their hand, blowing their scorching coffee as my mom sat on the sofa and my dad stood behind her.
I was waiting for one of them to spill what they had in mind, but it seemed they had it clogged in their throats. The atmosphere became dreadful by the deafening silence, as the cold air hit my clammy hands. My heart raced passed its limits until it was put to a halt when my mom blurted out the words I anticipated someday.
“Drop out.”
“What?"
Even if I predicted those two words for quite a while now, it still didn’t stop me from being in shock.
“We're sorry, but we think it’s best for you to help us out. After all, you’re not doing well in some of your classes.”
I inhaled and exhaled a ragged breath before I said anything, and stared down at my hands in shame. “It’s just one class,” I whispered.
But I understood that wasn’t enough.
And that I wasn’t the right “one" to carry out their dreams.
“Guy,” my dad called, but I stood quiet. “Guy,” he called again, and this time I flinched at how cold his voice was.
I steered my gaze at him, but unable to meet his eyes.
“Look son, we have no other choice. As long as you live under our roof you have to help us out as well.”
“I know! I just… I…”
He sighed, and placed a comforting hand on my mom’s shoulder. “We need as much help as we can. Please,” he begged.
“No.”
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