isabelle

I was sat in my room, re-reading a sentence for the 5th time. A frustrated sigh left my mouth when I realised that the Krebs cycle was beyond my understanding. That cycle had more steps than the entirety of Burj Khalifa.  

With a groan, I slammed my book shut and got out of bed while party music still echoed around the house. 

My parents loved partying. It was their Tuesday ritual - invite colleagues from work, get drunk as shit and forget about their problems. Why they do it on a weekday?, we will never know. I asked them once, if they could do it on some other day because my school conducts a test every Wednesday.  I'd rather have some peace and quite than be in a house filled with drunk and noisy adults before an exam. To my disappointment, they refused.

As I got out of my room to turn off the speakers, my dad called out to me and said, "Gary is passed out in the bathroom, let him be. We'll figure it out tomorrow." 

This did not surprise me one bit; we always found Gary in the most absurd places. Once, he was found sleeping beside our neighbour's dog kennel. Mrs. Davis almost called the cops on him, thinking that he was trying to steal her dog. The poor dog was very confused as well.

My dad's behaviour however, did surprise me. He was usually passed out on the couch alongside my mum and it was my job to send their colleagues out of our home. He did not look drunk tonight and even though I was thankful for it, I couldn't help but wonder if something was wrong.

"How was work?" I casually asked, hoping to understand the sudden change in his behaviour. Tuesday nights were their thing. Mum and dad would spend hours singing, talking and drinking with their close group of friends. It was the one day where they let loose and forgot about all their worries; which sometimes included me.

"Oh um it was a pretty decent day. Are you all prepared for your test?"

"Not really but I will wake up early in order to cover all the topics that are being tested." 

"You better. I'll go to bed now. Do well in the test, Izzy. Make us proud."

I nodded, faked a smile and walked back to my room after grabbing a glass of water.

Now, don't fool yourself by thinking that my father is supportive. He is a confusing man but, aren't we all? When it came to studies, my parents expected nothing less than perfect scores from me and I always delivered. Once, I lost 5 marks in a Physics test. That day was when my mother raised her hand at me for the first time. I was 11 and sick before the exam. After a whole week of hospital rounds due to my Typhoid fever, I had 3 hours to prepare for the test. During the time span of those three hours, I had to familiarise myself with multiple new topics and  learn to apply them in number-based problems.

I was really proud of my score - a 65 out of 70. It was pretty decent, the highest in my grade. When my mum saw the answer sheet though, she was disappointed. I vividly remember everything she said that night.

~flashback~

"You cannot afford to lose so many marks! Why do you think we pay for your school? Just so that you can get average scores? I am very disappointed in you, Isabelle. I expect nothing less than perfection from you. I think this is a decent ask from our side; considering the fact that we provide you with good food, education and shelter. Is it more books that you need? A tutor? Because I can't help you beyond this. If you want to live as a helpless and homeless human after growing up, continue getting these preposterous marks. It's your life after all. I also do not understand how this happened. Are you getting distracted by boys? Or have you stared taking drugs? You look a little pale too." My mother gasped. "Oh my god, you're taking drugs!," She said while shaking her head. "Isabelle! I thought you knew better. What do I do with you now?"

"But mom-"

"Don't talk to me, Isabelle. This is absurd. Did you hear that honey? Our daughter is taking drugs," She called out to my father.

Tears filled my eyes as I tried to speak again, "I did no-"

"Don't you dare lie to me! The truth is more than evident right now."

"What's going on?" My father asked while entering the room and noticing my watery eyes.

"Da-" I started but my mom cut me off again.

"She's doing drugs, honey."

My dad went into shock. After a few long moments, he shook his head and exclaimed, "I don't believe it! What is your mother talking about, Izzy?"

"Da-daddy I'm not taking drugs," I sobbed onto his shoulders as he crouched down.

Soon after that, I felt a tug on my head. My mother pulled me back and slapped me. "Lying to your father now, eh? Where have you learnt this?"

"Now, calm down babe. Let her explain. Isa, what is the problem here?" My dad asked, while patting my head.

"I did not do well in my- in my test and m-mommy thinks it is because of drugs," I managed to tell him through my sobs while still processing the slap. 

"Dear, you know that is a ridiculous conclusion to come to," my dad told my mother.

"How else can she explain the bad grades. She is always grumpy in the morning, and she almost missed school today because of waking up late. What's her excuse for that, huh?" My mother asked in a harsh tone while glaring at me.

I wanted to stop crying but her words stinged. I did everything to impress her. I was staying up late every night just so that I could catch up on all my schoolwork. This led to me being slow and dull during morning hours. I also never made excuses, I would always try my best to tackle any situation with no complaints. This is how my parents trained me to be.

Since the question made by my mom was not directly addressed to me, I did not answer her. It would only lead to her being more upset. 'I have always told you not  to speak unless you're spoken to.'  She loved saying that.

"Go on, tell us what's going on with you. Are you having trouble sleeping? Is someone pressurising you?" My dad pushed me to answer.

'Yes, you.'  I thought, but for obvious reasons I didn't voice my thoughts

Instead, I shook my head to both of his questions, took a deep breath and collected my thoughts before answering him, "Daddy, as both of you know, I was sick before the test and hence got very little preparation time. I tried my best to learn everything in a small time span of 3 hours. The syllabus being tested was completely new to me. I am very sorry to have disappointed you. I promise to improve my ways of studying and to achieve the best possible marks in my next test. This past week, I have been staying up late just so that I could catch up with my missed out schoolwork along with keeping up with my current schoolwork. I will try to not let this affect you too much. It is not my intention to upset either of you and I am deeply sorry to have done so. I am not taking any drugs of sorts to keep me awake or to enhance my performance. Sorry again to have created that impression on you, mother. It was not my plan to worry you." 

This was how I was brought up, this was how i was taught to deal with my parents. I was raised to please them and satisfy their expectations. I was not allowed to show my emotions to them because that just annoyed them. I was supposed to be the calm one, the one who thought logically while they would come to conclusions with no reasonable explanations. Quite hypocritic, no? 

"Okay then. Now that we have cleared the air, who wants to watch some television?" That was my dad's reply. To this, my mum said :

"Right! My favourite cooking show starts in a few minutes. Honey, could you get us some snacks while I turn on the TV?" 

"Of course dear"

"Um..  I have to finish a project of mine. You can call for me if you need anything. I'll be in my room. Good night, Mother," I said and left the living area. 

They did not show any recognition towards my apology, did not show any regret for scolding me, did not appreciate my efforts towards getting back on track, did not care about my recovery from the bacterial illness. This was how it was with my family. They expected the world from me and I had stopped expecting anything from them. 

~end of flashback~