Back to past life (pt 1)

As soon as my feet landed at the bottom of the stairs, my parents turned their heads to me. They were seated by the small dining table shooting sharp, venomous gazes at me. 

 "Really? You chose to step out of your room after locking yourself up for three days?" Mom barked at me with a frown. 

 "Ella, enough!" my dad tried to calm her while I was planted in my spot. He shifted his gaze at me and spoke up. 

 "Ava, where do you think you're going? It's almost 7 pm…" he said calmly, but my dad is not that sweet. It's just one of the days he didn't feel like being rude to me just yet. 

 "I want to stretch my legs. As Mom said, it had been three days since I stepped out of my room," I explained as I walked past them, rolling my eyes. 

 "Ava? Your mother and I need to talk to you about something very important," he interrupted, and I gently spun to face them—crossing my arms. 

 "I don't want to study medicine or go to law school," I snapped as I lazily sat at the table. Mom shook her head in disappointment as her fingers interlocked on the surface of the table, staring daggers at me. I could see how betrayed she felt through her eyes. 

 "There you go again, constantly throwing a good future into the dust," Mom snapped angrily. "What have we not given you? Your Dad and I have worked triple shifts to save up for your college education, but what have we?" she asked firmly as my Dad remained silent. 

 "What do you want, Ava, maybe we should just... support your choice of career then," he finally said. 

 "I don't know. I don't want to go to college," I snapped,

Deep down, I just wanted to… read stories, live like a noble or a princess, fall in love with a vampire or something like that. Does it exist? From all the stories that I have read, they existed. 

 "Are you serious right now, Ava?" Mom asked, interrupting my thoughts as Dad rubbed his face in frustration. But I was unmoved. 

 "This is getting out of hand. I think you need to see a therapist, and I'm calling one right away. I don't think you're thinking well about your future in that pretty head of yours," Dad snapped as he grabbed his phone to call someone while Mom laughed hysterically, sharpening her gaze at me. 

 "Your friends are in college right now, some would start in the summer to kickstart a wonderful career. And here you are, screaming about stupid things? What are you, five?" she scoffed. "What are we supposed to do with your college funds?" Mom lashed out, holding her head. 

 "I'm sorry, but can you just go on a vacation or something? 'Cause I don't want to be either of those things that you want," I blurted out, crossing my arms.

 "Lord help me so that I don't kill anyone right now," my mom yelled at me as if her throat would leave her body as she rose to hit me. Then Dad's phone dropped as he held her back forcefully. 

 "Control yourself, Ella is still our daughter!" he warned firmly. 

 "No, not mine, because I would never give birth to a piece of work as a daughter— like her," Mom spat those words at my face. "Because I wish you were never mine in the first place," Mom scowled at me and left. 

 "I hate you too," I screamed back at her angrily.

Dad stared down at me and said:

 "I expected better from you, Ava, but again, your Mom is right. You're just a piece of work," he left me to my thoughts. 

 "I wish I had never had you all as parents," I said under my breath nonchalantly and hastily headed out of the house, lost and angry at my parents. 

…

It had been approximately 30 minutes since we had one of the biggest fights. Their concurrent voices of anger didn't stop ringing and echoing in my head.

It wasn't the first time that they would tell me how badly they hated me, and it wasn't the first that I would say that I hated them too. 

I've always lived up to their expectations, and it got to a point where I could barely choose something for myself. 

Something about my life feels like a joke whereby I'm the villain and victim of my story. 

My father thinks I'm serious about medical school and my mother thinks that I would be better off as a lawyer.

Not to mention my high school boyfriend who dumped me because he had run out of love for a total nerd who had no interesting life. 

 "I think you're no longer hot and pretty… and you're confused," those were his last words before he slammed my bedroom in my face. 

Now the question is, what do I think of myself? 

Still, I wanted to make something out of my terrible life. All these thoughts rattled in my mind while I walked on the dark, empty street, a small pebble was thrown at me.

I looked back at first and saw no one, no footsteps or shadows under the streetlights. I walked a few steps again and a pebble was thrown again. 

I looked back and saw an ugly-looking old woman with long, unhygienic fingernails flashing a sinister smile as her hand held onto a crooked, sturdy stick. 

I didn't bother to ask if she knew who threw pebbles at me, so I briskly walked ahead. 

Again, several pebbles were thrown at me. This time, I turned to her while she laughed like a real witch. 

 "Ma'am, did you throw those pebbles at me? Because I could be really crazy, and you're going to die from it. So do not add to my anger," I snapped, suppressing my anger. 

 "Of course... What… will… you do?" she laughed as pebbles rained down on me. It was strange. 

 "You crazy witch!!!" I yelled at her as I tried to run, but my feet were stuck on the spot. 

It was as if I was having an episode of sleep paralysis.

She continued to laugh and laugh while I grappled, but my efforts were useless. 

 "What do… what do you want from me?" my voice trembled.

 "What do I want? You summoned me, and I'm here to grant your wish," she said and laughed. 

 "What's my wish?" I asked with curiosity and a slight frown settled on my face. 

 "You wish to be a noble or princess, right? So, I will send you to your past life, but this time, in another dimension…" she laughed as she spread out her arms like a goddess of the sky and suddenly lightning struck and thunder rumbled, causing my body to freeze in fear. I didn't believe her or what she said. 

 "Let's…" her voice echoed.