This is my life

I was sitting around the basement table, where we would normally have family conversations. My parents were discussing my 18th birthday, and the plans of me taking over. 

18, it is such a young age. There is much I haven’t experienced. I’ve seen almost everything. When anyone in a family in this business turns 18 they take over the business. Any family with an 18 year old, we all start to work together. Luckily, I have no cousins. Although my father has taught me everything, we would work with a close family friend. I would run most of the big decisions, I’m not up for it. 

“I can’t take over.” I push out quickly, before I change my mind, wary of the possibility that my parents would do something crazy. I’m not sure if they had heard me. Softly basking in the silence I say once again in a hushed voice.

“I can’t take over.” They stare with a familiar anger rising in their eyes. 

“You have too, it’s been in the family for generations!” My father says his voice flat and stern, eyes wandering around the room, it’s like he wasn’t even talking to me, but I know he was. 

I decide to speak. 

“It’s just, hard to make friends when- my mother cuts me off with a sob

“How could you, even think of not following in our footsteps!” She looks heart broken, my throat tightens with guilt, I feel sick. 

I know that this means so much to them. They’ve developed into yelling at me at different times as I tune them out, my thoughts way louder than their cruel words. They think I’m a failure, I mean I guess I am, but their life is not for me. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not cut out for this line of work!” I yell out, gruff, my voice devoid of emotion, I’m done. “It’s not for me, I’m not that type of person!”

“You think we are?, we do this job to continue our family tradition!” My father snaps. 

The room goes quiet, each of us sitting in the dead cold silence. 

The only thoughts I have, I shouldn’t say out loud, my parents would probably kill me. I’m morally sound, at least I think I am, maybe I think too highly of myself. 

I have been trained from the beginning, since I was young I’ve known, I’m not meant for this life. Over the years my father has told me this is all I’m meant to be, but my mother seems more on my side. She acts in front of my dad, she is scared of him. The things my father has done. He taught me not to speak up for myself because it ends in violence. I’m scared, I always have been. My mother was more sweet, but when my father is there she is just like him. I remember my mother reading me to sleep, while my father taught me to be tough and have a stone expression to hide who I really am. During my childhood I was raised for this life, but my mother in secret told me otherwise. She told me to follow what I believe. I’m doing my best to do that now. She’s planning to leave, I know she will one day. 

My father and I are on opposite sides, each with our own morals; that fight against these endless possibilities. I know nothing about this, but everything, the things that I felt or they felt. I can’t believe they have kept this life, all the way up the broken branch of our family tree. This is my life, but I want nothing more than to make my parents proud. I am the only thing breaking the already broken life, the one I was cursed to have. 

My father breaks the somewhat tortuous silence, turning to my mother to tell her she should leave. 

My mothers eyes follow the rough part of our basement floor, she is silent, a ghost floating to the top of the steps. She stops before walking up the stairs giving me a look, “you can do this” she mouths behind my fathers stern face. When the door closes a terrible sound to my ears a loud creak of giving up. 

I’m screwed, my father is a frightening person, a shadow of a man. He remained silent, it seemed like an eternity of pain, my heart is so loud it slams against my chest, are my ribs breaking? Or is it just in my own head? 

Finally, he is looking at me straight into my eyes

“What we do is necessary, it’s what must be done- he takes a pause- I’m doing what’s best for you.” I can see in his eyes, he means that. How could he know what’s best for me? It’s my life, I’m the one in control of my body, it’s taken most of my upbringing to realize that I’m not like the rest of my family. The worst part is I love them, they are my family. 

I open my mouth to respond 

“I love you, I’m proud that you can do what everyone else in this family does, but I can’t do it, I’m not the same, haven’t you noticed?!” 

I wait for a response. Silence once again. 

A loud slam against the table, breaks the silence. 

“I’ve taught you everything! How could you throw away all the knowledge I gave you! Who cares if you’re different, this is the life you've been given, appreciate it!” 

I glare at him through my eyelashes, how dare him! 

“I told you it’s not for me, I have different morals, I don’t believe in what you do! I’m not going to sit around and live a life I don’t want!” 

“You have to do this! If you don't, who will!” He says, I’m not sure if he is asking me a question. 

“I don’t know, but it wouldn’t be my problem.” I state bitterly. He looks stunned, his eyes watching me, like a predator watching his prey.

“I don’t understand, you’re telling me that you wouldn’t care about who runs the family business?” I pause, he is my father. I am supposed to love him. I find myself hating that he brought me into this. 

“Yes.” I answer, there isn’t much left to say except, “I’m leaving.” I get up and head upstairs, not listening to the slight murmur of a voice that used to mean so much to me. Packing a bag, taking my savings, walking to the bus stop, And saying goodbye to everything I once knew. 

————————————————————-

Standing in front of the mirror, of some musty apartment, states away from my hometown. 

My hair I had to cut, and dye a dark brown, it was a long time ago. My hair was naturally blonde. I don’t look like who I used to be, but I am changed now. 

Everyday I am scared, the fear forcing me to change my appearance. I haven’t spoken to my parents since that day. I know they have people looking for me. I’ve changed my name, I am not the man I used to be. I am someone new, a lizard with different skin. 

I work a job at a cheap diner, but it’s a free life. I spend time with my new friends, the only friends I could have outside of the life I was forced to have. I never thought I could ever be this happy. The fear instilled in my head, keeps me on my toes. I am free but only to a certain extent, but isn’t everyone like that, there are restrictions to life, this is mine. 

Everyday I’m glad I took this path. the one where I don’t have to look at someone as they take their last breath, or watch the light fade from their hopeful eyes. Standing in front of a mirror finally seeing who I’m meant to be. I don’t have to be an assassin.

-𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑐𝑢𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡