I trudged through the front door of my family's small, worn-down house, the familiar creak of the hinges echoing through the hallway. My mom, dad, and younger brother, Alex, were already seated in the living room, their faces illuminated by the flickering TV screen. The air was thick with the smell of stale cigarettes and yesterday's cooking.
"Hey, kiddo," my dad said, not looking up from the TV. "How was your day?"
I shrugged, dropping my backpack onto the floor. "It was fine."
My mom, seated on the couch beside my dad, turned to me with a critical gaze. "Just 'fine'? You're not going to tell us about your day? What did you do in school?"
I sighed inwardly, knowing that this was a familiar script. My parents would ask me questions, I would provide brief, unenthusiastic answers, and they would criticize me for not being more outgoing or successful.
"I did my homework, and we had a test in math," I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral.
My dad grunted. "You'd better have done well on that test. You can't afford to slack off, not with college applications coming up."
I felt a familiar knot of anxiety in my stomach. College. It was a topic that had been drummed into me since freshman year. My parents had always assumed that I would attend a top-tier university, just like my older sister, Audrey, had done. But the truth was, I wasn't sure if I was cut out for it. I wasn't the best student, and the thought of taking on massive student loans and competing with thousands of other applicants made my head spin.
"Audrey called today," my mom said, a hint of pride in her voice. "She's doing so well at Harvard. She's going to be a doctor, you know."
I forced a smile, feeling the familiar sting of comparison. Audrey was the golden child, the one who had always exceeded my parents' expectations. I, on the other hand, was the disappointment, the one who could never quite measure up.
As the evening wore on, the conversation continued in this vein, with my parents asking me questions and criticizing my answers. I felt like I was trapped in a never-ending cycle of expectation and disappointment.
As soon as I could, I excused myself and retreated to my bedroom, feeling like I was suffocating under the weight of my family's expectations. I flopped onto my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as I wondered how I was going to escape this toxic cycle.
That's when I saw it – the college brochure that I had picked up at school earlier that day. It was tucked away on my nightstand, its glossy cover beckoning me like a lifeline.
I sat up, my heart racing with excitement as I flipped through the pages. This was it – my ticket out of this suffocating world. I was going to apply to college, and I was going to get out of here, no matter what it took.