"Gotta let go of weight..

..can't keep what's holding me.."

...

Fate. Destiny. Path.

They're all words we consider as an excuse for the actions that tend to happen in our lives, whether it's a thing that we accept or not.

Your little kid got his arm broken when he was playing hide and seek even though your husband warned you not to let him play in the crowd?

No worries! It's his fate.

You were forced by all means to marry your abusive boyfriend just because your heart couldn't let go of him?

So what? Probably destined.

You got resigned from your dream job and had to suffer for two years finding a new suitable one-with the same salary-just because your boss was a little harsh on you?

It's fine, wasn't the right path anyway.

All these actions that happens to us, we get it cleaned and covered with those exact three words.

To help ourselves cope with the subject of regret.

To get away with the guilt that seeks to haunt our hearts forever.

In my opinion, they're just cheap excuses that you hope to get brainwashed with, and continue moving forward, repeating the same mistakes.

The mistakes of your own actions.

Not fate, not destiny, not paths.

It's your free choice.

The choice you unconsciously make and have to suffer its consequences.

It's our own actions that lead us to every path, every fate, and every destiny. With our own will.

We're the ones who have the power of changing the world, every detail of it.

And that's by every choice we choose.

So I, one day, hope that whatever choice I have chosen, to actually change my life into a better place.

...

I got home from my violin class, I had dinner, took a nap and then I did my assignments that almost caused me a mental breakdown.

As I tiredly laid on bed, I heard Liam calling on the phone. I sighed and hung up on him.

We had a fight the other day because he didn't want me to attend any other violin classes. So it wasn't really a good time for him to talk to me. And I was pretty sure he didn't call to apologize. He always does the mistake and blames me for it.

He thought practicing violin was a waste of time and energy, and that he'd like to spend more time with me instead of 'uselessly' practicing my favourite hobby everyday.

But I, of course, refused his suggestion because..

Who is he to be in control of my life?

Violin is my favourite hobby, I've practiced it since I was eight years old, and there's no one ever going to stop me from playing violin till the day I die.

It's one of the many things that makes me dive deep into my own imagination.

And there's nothing more important for me than something to hold onto from such a hurtful reality.

The reality of my life.

As I got up from bed, I headed to the living room. I found mom sewing my dad's trousers. I sat on the couch beside her, nervously tapping my fingers on my thighs as I felt her glare freaking the hell out of me.

"What do you want?" she asked, her tone holding no patience.

I sat in silence for a moment thinking whether I should tell her or not, whether we would argue like every single time or not.

But I wouldn't know that if I haven't tried it yet.

"So like..." I scratched my ears as I tried to collect the right words. "My friends are throwing a party tonight at their house. Can I go?"

"No, you won't." she stated with calmness, still seweing. She didn't even have to think or use her mind, she just instantly refused.

Okay, but maybe there's a five percent chance. Five, at least.

"Mom! Please?" I pleaded with a pout of frustration. "I promise I'll be here by ten."

"No."

"Nine?"

"Nope."

"Alright then, Eight!"

"I said no!" she yelled.

"Why is it always no?!"

"You're still a child! l can't let you go out to parties every now and then!"

"Mom, I'm not a child! And the only parties I go to is Liam's father's stupid ones!"

"At least be grateful I let you go to these parties!" she glared as she pointed at me with her sewing needle, as if she was threatening me with it.

Is that a latin thing she got from grandma? I've heard she used to threaten mom with kitchen knives a lot.

"I don't even like going there!" I yelled and I found no answer from her. Her eyes were still focused on seweing, trying to ignore me. "Mom, please!"

"If I say no, then it's no!" she declared with a frown, glaring at me. "Plus you have school tomorrow! You should be sleeping by now."

"Mom, it's still seven pm!"

"Shut your damn mouth and just go to sleep!" she shouted.

I gritted my teeth and went upstairs, mumbling in anger."I knew you won't be useful anyway!"

"Damn you, Evelyn!" she yelled from downstairs.

I shut the door and I frustratingly threw myself on bed, shaking my legs with rage.

I then grabbed my pillow and screamed in it. I kind of got calmed down and let out a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Such a shitty life, huh?" The cold tone of his voice buzzed from outside the window as I sprang up in fear, frightened from his sudden action.

I couldn't believe that he would have the guts to break in that way.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" I glared at him.

He climbed into my room and stepped on his both foot, shrugging to me. "To pick you up, I guess?"

"Jesus, get a life." I eyed him up and down, judging so hard.

"I used to have one." he smirked as his eyes wandered the room with sorrow. "Nice room." he glanced at me, forcing a smile.

I face-palmed as I gave him a sigh. "How did you know I live here?"

"I tracked your location from your phone's number." he said as he held up his phone. "Also, from now on you should check on locking your room's window, since people are starting to break in lately." he innocently smirked as he pointed at the window with his thumb and winked at me.

I unintentionally smiled and let out a chuckle, but managed to hide my lips with my hand.

Reaching to him, I slowly pushed him out. "You shouldn't be here, get out!"

I've never been alone in a room with a guy before. Even my boyfriend, my mom used to make sure that we keep the door opened and we didn't really manage to have time alone, so we just sat in the living room with her.

Sucks, I know.

So this strange yet familiar guy being here with me, the two of us, alone, in my bedroom. Is sure freaking the hell out of me. I couldn't let my mom know that guy even existed.

"I said I came to pick you up you woman!" he squealed.

"Shut up!" I quickly pressed a finger to his lips, my eyes widened. "My mom is downstairs!"

"Cool, now come with me. Or I'll let your mother hear some weird noises from her daughter's room." he smirked, looking at me as he offered me his hand that I glanced at it, but refused to take it.

"I can't, my mother won't let me go out." I rubbed my arm, feeling like a five year old dunce.

"You think I didn't hear that lame-ass fight? Come on, we're sneaking you out." he waved his hands and headed to the window.

"Sneak out?! I can't do that!" I nervously complained.

"Come on now! You're making me believe you're actually twelve!" he shook his head with an eye roll.

"No, I'm sixteen. But I've never sneaked out before. And I can't take the risk." My eyes went frustrated as I played with my fingers, letting him notice how tensed I got by the idea of sneaking out.

He glanced at me as he ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, "God, Evelyn, you're so soft."

"Watch your mouth!" I narrowed my eyes, still playing with my fingers as felt his gaze on me, cold as ice.

"Whatever." he narrowed his eyes back at me with irritation. "At some point we all take risks, right? You should try risk one."

"Why would I do that? Taking risks is dangerous."

"You're still young, Evelyn. There's a whole life waiting out for you." He said. My eyes were then locked with his as my blurred thoughts took the best of me. "You need to let go of the fear you're growing from your mother." he began to softly speak.

I took the time to think about the consequences of sneaking out without my mom knowing, and what would happen if she finds out.

Would she tell my dad?

What would he do if he finds out as well?

Would I be in a dilemma?

God, I hope not.

But Mikhail said I have a whole life waiting out there for me, what if he was right?

What if I'm not capable of doing anything about being trapped here because I don't want to and I'm not trying to?

Maybe it was fate that brought us here, giving me the chance to finally take the risk, because of him, and try to live my life to it's fullest

Did I just say fate? No, I don't think so.

I'm the one who gave him my phone number, I'm the one who allowed him to break into my bedroom. I'm the one that may suffer the consequences I tend to cause.

But I'm also a teenager that just wants to live her best years. What's the harm in that?

I looked back as I glanced at him for a moment, hoping the choice I was about to make wouldn't cause much harm to me.

"Screw it, I'm sneaking out with you."

...

We both sneaked out from the window and we quietly ran far away from home. Escaping to God knows where, my heart hardly throbbed as I felt the adrenaline rushing through every inch of my damn body.

I stopped running to catch my breath, realizing how badly my stomach began to ache.

I gently held my stomach with disgust as Mikhail stopped behind me with a cold yet worried look on his face.

"Jeez, are you okay?" he leaned closer.

I tried to properly inhale as I blankly stared at the dusty car that was parked in front of us.

We were very silent, only hearing the cockroaches and the wind noises that caused goosebumps to my whole body.

Mikhail eyed me confusingly. I took a glance at him and burst out laughing so hard that I harshly fell on the ground, clapping with disbelief.

I was so overwhelmed by how freely I got to feel. It felt quite... Appeasing.

No disturbance.

No anxious thoughts.

Just the enjoyment of the cold breeze clashing through my body.

He blinked at me for a moment as I found him chuckling.

He then let out a laugh and rested on the ground beside me.

"I can't believe I just sneaked out that easily." I sighed in relief. "Holy shit."

"I told you it'd be fun." he wrapped his arms behind his head and rested on them, gazing at the full moon with passion.

I looked at the moon as well. "We haven't even started yet and I already feel relieved with my life."

"That's how it feels like escaping a prison." he said with a hurtful tone as I gazed at his side profile, wanting to ask him about his life. Yearning to know who he was and what brought him here, to California.

But I didn't.

I was scared to be annoying or a burden by asking him things he might not want me to know the answers of.

Why would I even wanna know things about him? It's just this one fake night that we're gonna spend together and I won't be seeing him ever again.

"I wanna ask a question." I blurted anyway.

"Sure."

"When you first saw me at the bakery, why did you look so shocked?" I knitted my brows, confused by our first impression.

He took a deep breath as he sighed irritatingly, still looking at the moon.
"Because you were ugly, and I'm not used to seeing ugly women."

Something made me feel that he was lying. And that there was another reason to him reacting that way when he first saw me.

Back at the bakery, I felt that he knew who I was the moment he laid eyes on me. And I kind of felt familiar with him. I felt like I've known him very well, even though it was the first time I've ever seen him. It was like a deja vu moment, yet it made no sense.

I brushed off that thought as I rolled my eyes and got up. "Now what?" I asked, whipping off the dust on my shirt.

"Now we go buy us some decent clothes." he got up, whipping off the dust on his shirt as well. "You like shopping?"

---

[Ataraxia] (n) : A state of freedom from emotional disturbance and anxiety; tranquility.

....

Do you think sneaking out is the best solution for Evelyn's hard case with her mother constantly trapping her?

How old do you think Mikhail is? Lmao.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, don't forget to vote and comment! <3

xoxo.