Deepest Desire

New Neighbor

1 Year Ago,

I GAZED outside the window, watching my new neighbors. One after another, two men carried heavy boxes inside the house, continuing the process until the truck was empty.

A man, probably in his mid-thirties, yelled at the truck driver and said something which I was unable to hear since I was at a distance.

Minutes later, the truck left and the house just in front of mine looked lively after almost ten long years. After the Potter’s left, no one came to reside here. I grew up watching the house next to mine empty and dark but now it appeared different. I smiled, relieved to finally see some new faces.

I bought the curtains together and moved to my study table. I winched at the sight of the law books that my father gave to me as a present. As a f*****g present.

My father was an advocate and like every parent, he wanted that his child should also choose what he did. He wanted me to be an advocate too.

When I was around eight, he started giving me law books on my birthdays, telling me it would help me in my future. I didn’t want to be an advocate or a lawyer. The problem was, I never raised my voice or made demands to my father. Whatever he said, I listened submissively. I thought it was how I should behave, it was how I was taught to behave.

Pulling the chair, I sat with a heavy sigh. My assignments were complete but I had to finish two pages of this f*****g law book because my father said so. I never read it with interest though.

Dad would ask me questions related to my particular topic and when I couldn’t answer, he would slam the book loudly on the table and leave the room. I thought he would get a hint that I had no interest in studying law but his hopes were still high.

Even after seven years of not answering his single question, he hasn’t given up on me yet. I didn’t know if I should be happy or sad about it.

Ten minutes later, I let out a grumble and closed the book with a grimace. My head hurts whenever I read that damn book. Keeping the book aside, I did what I liked. I took out my sketchbook from the upper shelf and flipped through the pages. My heart was instantly at peace seeing my designs on the paper.

I liked to design dresses, it was like my hobby, my passion, and my happiness. Whenever I would feel down, I made sketches one after another, losing count because I would get so lost in it. I had almost five sketchbooks, all of which were filled with designs. This was sixth.

Grabbing one pencil from the pen holder, I glided the tip of the pencil on the paper, unleashing my creativity. Dad didn’t know about this nor did I ever let him found out. I was scared if he somehow got to know I was interested in fashion designing and not in law, he might not let me draw again. I kept it a secret from him and asked my Mom too to keep it a secret from Dad. I felt like I was suffocating in my house, not sometimes but many times. This feeling had been there and has been growing ever since. After I finish high school, I wasn’t staying here. I have already started looking for universities from now onwards.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. I hastily hid the sketchbook between my textbooks and yelled, “Come in.”

Mom peered her head in and find me on my study table, she smiled.

“It’s time for your piano classes, sweetheart” she reminded me, fully entering inside.

I nodded and took my small bag which was kept beside my table. “Do remember to take your notes” she added.

“Yes, Mom,” I said while I brushed my hair, just light enough so that my hair would stay in shape. I adjusted my black and white hairband on my head and looked at the mirror one last before I turned around to leave my room.

Stopping by my door, I looked at Mom and asked, “When is Dad coming?”

“Probably around six. It’s Saturday, he will be back early.”

I nodded, mentally making calculations when to arrive home.

Saying goodbye to my Mom, I walked down the stairs, and out of the house. Attached to the house was the garage. I went in and going to where my Lime- my cycle was parked, I kept my small inside the basket in front and took Lime out from the garage. I parted my legs and sat on the seat, my feet touching the ground. With one swift movement, I moved, riding Lime.

**

I heard the screeching of the car and knew Dad was home. I scurried to the window area and peered out, seeing Dad’s Hyundai was parked outside.

Going back to my study table, I continued reading THE MIDNIGHT LIBRARY from where I left. Even though my eyes were on the page, my ear and all my other senses were on the door. My hearing sense got powerful when he was around.

Very faintly, I could hear his footsteps. He was coming up. I quickly scanned my room, noting if everything was in its place and neatly arranged.

The doorknob clicked and my heart skipped a beat. Clearing my throat, I said, “The door’s open.”

The door pushed inside and my Dad stepped in with his usual grave expression. His hooded eyes were tired, eyebrows pinched together and his lips were formed in a thin line. “Good evening, Dad” I chirped, forcing a smile. “How was your work?”

He first took notice of the book in my hand before answering my question. “It was fine, as usual.” He then asked bout my day to which I answered the same I used every day.

“Have you read today?” he asked, brooding his eyes at me. he meant the law books. I nodded.

I did read but I never tried to understand what it said.

“Good,” he said, bobbing his head. I could feel my stomach churning as the time passed and I was waiting when he will leave.

When Mum called, he left, closing the door. I exhaled a sigh of relief and put down my head on the book.

This has been my everyday saga and I know I should be used to it but I couldn’t. I still get the knots in my stomach, the rage inside my heart, and the air diminishing around me.

Craning my head up, I put the bookmark inside the page which I was reading and closed the book, keeping it back on the shelf.

When Mum called my name, I went downstairs to have dinner.