A Passing Thought

“Where were you last night?” Those words kept echoing in my mind during the grueling interrogation bestowed upon me by my parents who only do so because they love me and care about me and all that jazz. Their distant and indistinct yelling hammering me, nailing me into the ground, backing me into a corner so I’d have no choice but to confess and apologize for making them worry so much about their sweet little angel of a child. Everything seemed to fall into place just right. 

I went upstairs to my room, angry at them for yelling and punishing me for something so miniscule, something of which I have absolutely no recollection. Still, regardless of how I seemed to feel at the present moment, a tiny sense of security was felt somewhere in my being, just in the knowledge that they would love me no matter what. This was just another one of their sad attempts to show it. One of the perks of having parents no doubt about that. 

Making my way through the familiar upstairs corridor, I could hardly make out the barely audible voices in the background, and even though I knew the voices’ point of origin and their prospective target, I ignored them and kept walking; rushing by the all the family pictures and memories as if I’d seen them repeatedly my entire life. Just like most normal children do. They tend to walk by and forget to make time to cherish the good times they’ve had because, to someone who is ignorant, and as it’s said, “ignorance is bliss”, there is never and end o the good times. It’s difficult for a person who has never experienced any real hardship to understand the agonizing reality of life. That’s what I think anyway; just another one of those annoying little realities that pop into my head from time to time. 

None of this painful truth though could deter me from the path I had chosen; the destination of my room; a regular familiarity that changes every day.