The morning after my night with Daniel, the atmosphere in our cramped one-room flat was tense. The silence hung heavy, broken only by the occasional creak of the old ceiling fan. My mother sat at the small wooden table near the window, her fingers tracing the rim of her chipped teacup. Her gaze was distant, but I knew her mind was anything but.
"Alis," she began, her voice soft yet weighted, "we need to talk."
I rolled my eyes and flopped onto the cot. "If this is about last night, I—"
"It's not just about last night," she interrupted, her tone sharper now. "It's about what you're doing. The way you're… carrying yourself."
"Carrying myself?" I shot back, sitting up and crossing my arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She sighed, setting down the cup with a small clink. "You've changed, Alis. You're staying out late, dressing up like…" She paused, searching for the right word. "Like you're trying to be someone you're not."
"Maybe I'm just trying to be someone better," I snapped. "Have you thought about that?"
Her eyes, lined with years of hardship, narrowed. "Better? Or someone who's forgotten where she comes from? The world you're stepping into, Alis, it doesn't care about girls like us. It chews you up and spits you out."
I stood, pacing the small room. "You don't understand. I can't live like this forever. I won't. I want more than this tiny flat, more than hand-me-down clothes and borrowed dreams."
"And you think you'll get that by… what? Spending nights with men like him?" Her voice cracked on the last word, and I could see the pain in her eyes. "They don't love you, Alis. They use you. And when they're done, they move on."
Her words stung, not because they were untrue, but because they were too close to the truth I didn't want to admit. I turned away, staring out the small window at the gray, crowded street below. "You don't know anything about him," I muttered.
"I know enough," she said, her voice quieter now. "I know what happens to girls who chase after men with power and money. I've seen it, Alis. And I've seen the heartbreak it leaves behind."
I wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, that I was different. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, I just stood there, my fists clenched, my heart pounding.
"Alis," she said softly, rising from her chair and stepping closer. "You're my daughter. My only child. I just want you to be safe. To be happy. This… this path you're on, it won't lead you there."
For a moment, I felt a flicker of doubt, a small voice in the back of my mind echoing her words. But then I thought of Daniel's penthouse, of the way he looked at me, the way he made me feel powerful, desirable. That was the life I wanted, not this suffocating existence.
"I'll be fine," I said finally, turning to face her. My voice was steady, but inside, I felt anything but. "I know what I'm doing."
Her expression was a mix of sadness and resignation. She reached out, placing a hand on my cheek. "I hope you do," she whispered. "Because the world out there… it's not kind to dreamers like you."
I pulled away, brushing past her and heading for the door. "Stop worrying, Mom. I've got it under control."
But as I stepped out into the bustling street, her words lingered in my mind, an unwelcome shadow that refused to leave. For the first time, I felt a sliver of uncertainty about the choices I was making, about the path I was walking.
Still, I pushed those doubts aside. I had come too far to turn back now. Whatever lay ahead, I was ready to face it. Or so I told myself.