A Clash of Passions

Chapter 1: Hurt

Prologue

I was alone in my room, lounging on the bed. I was completely immersed in thought. After a while, i picked up my phone and scrolled through my music playlist. I selected a track, plugged in my earpiece, and settled back to listen. It was Lewis Capaldi's 'Before You Go'. I closed my eyes and relaxed into the song.

Maybe music was my way of coping with my boyfriend's absence. Kenneth got a job in New York and had to move, and i've never felt lonelier. I miss him terribly. It didn't make it any easier that the flight from Los Angeles to New York was about five hours. Our relationship had transitioned from an in-person relationship to a long-distance relationship. It changed from one where we saw each other regularly to one where we interacted primarily by phone.

With my eyes still closed and my feet outstretched, I let the music take me away from the world around me. I had almost begun to doze off when my peaceful state was interrupted by some noises. It became too loud to ignore even with my earpiece.

I quickly pulled out the earpiece only to realise the noise was coming from my parents' room. They were quarelling again. Tossing my phone on the bed, I dashed out of the room to go see what the issue was.

I burst open their door, and the yelling amplified. My father's deep, guttural voice was enough for me to know there was trouble in paradise. I saw my father roughly folding his clothes into a suitcase, and i was bewildered. My mother stood over him with her arms wrapped around her body. She was crying.

"Dad? What's going on?"

I asked, pining him a suspicious look. He continued as if he didn't hear me, and i yelled his name again.

"Your mother has developed cancer again!"

"I'm fed up, Brianna! I'm tired!" Came his snappy response."

"What?"

"Mom, what happened? I thought you were okay now?""

I asked, hurt by the news. I moved closer to her and touched her shoulders in concern, and she started crying again, this time, harder. My heart broke. My mother has been battling with colorectal cancer for a while now. I thought it was over since the last treatment. Obviously, it's recured again.

"Dad, it's not her fault that she is sick. Sickness isn't something we can control as humans. You know that. We can only but take precautions."

I said, in her defence.

"Well, i'm tired of the incessant bills!"

"I can not continue to spend my hard earned money on hospital bills."

He spat.

"Dad, how can you say that? How do you even expect her to feel?"

"That's insensitive!"

I said, already getting upset.

"I don't bloody care! I'm tired."

"Look at her. She no longer even takes care of herself. I'm tired of her constantly needing help."

He said, motioning towards my mother.

"I've had it up to here, and i'm tired. I'm tired of the both of you. I'm leaving!"

He said, using his hand to press down on the clothes in the suitcase to compress them while simultaneously making more room for the zipper to close.

I gaped at my dad, too shocked to speak. What did he mean by he was tired of us?

My father hadn't exactly been the best of father to me or a great husband to my mother either. But i guess we reposed in the knowledge that he took care of our financial needs. And now, i guess, even that was no longer part of it.

He was a manwhore and an alcoholic. And i was sure that part of the reason for his frustration, which he refused to admit, was apparently because there was no s****l contact between him and my mother, since the sickness.

"Dad?!"

I exclaimed.

"We're your family, dad. You can't just wake up one morning and decide to leave!"

I said, battling back tears.

"Watch me."

My father said, picking up the suitcase and dragging it along the floor as he tried to step out.

"David, don't do this. Please."

My mother pleaded as she held his leg to stop him from leaving. It was the most pathetic scene I had ever seen in my life, and my heart ripped to pieces. Upon closer inspection, my mother had emaciated, and her collar bones were noticeable. The image of her on the floor holding on to his leg and looking so frail made the tears I was struggling to hold back, spill over.

"Nora, let go off me. I'm sick of you, can't you see?!"

My father spat. The way he eyed my mother with so much contempt and anger, scared me. I wondered how it got to this point.

"Dad, please, don't do this, i beg you."

I pleaded, crying so hard as i held his arm. I was hurt and angry. But i was more interested in trying to convince him to stay. If not for anything, but for the sake of my mother.

"We're your family. What about me? How do you want me to feel if you abandon your only daughter?"

I tried to appeal to his conscience. With my mother's hand gripped on one of his legs and with me firmly holding his arm, my father remained fixed at the door, brimming with anger.

"Please, Dad, don't leave us."

I said, crying profusely. After a while, my father shook my mom off and yanked his hand away from me. He dragged his suitcase along with him and walked out of the room without even sparing us a final glance.

It finally dawned on me that my father had just abandoned us without any single care in the world how we would fare, and this completely crushed me. My mother and i both crouched on the floor and hugged each other as we sobbed together. We cried buckets!

The thought of how she would battle cancer without any support suddenly hit me, and fear washed over me. We stayed in that position for a while, as our cries turned to hiccuping gasps.

Now more than ever, i needed a job.