Dad holds an unshakeable authority in this little world.
He dismisses my job prospects as futile, always favoring my sister’s wants instead, treating her demands like non-negotiable truths.
His silence when I try to explain myself turns heavy and judgmental, the weight making it clear: my place is to comply, not question.
The tension escalated over weeks.
First, Dad insisted I drop interview prep to babysit my sister.
Then, he criticized my modest earnings like they were a personal failure.
By the third week, his tone shifted to threats when I suggested applying for better jobs.
Yesterday, the push came to shove, culminating in that confrontation where he slammed me into the wall.
Now, I’m bracing for today’s interview, balancing the sting of what happened with the knowledge Dad might be lurking around, waiting to drag me back down.
The work opportunity could be a lifeline, but the cost—Dad’s anger and my family’s expectations—pushes down like a storm cloud I can’t shake.
I’m avoiding looking at my phone or the door, dreading what might come next, unsure if I’ll even get a chance to walk into that interview without Dad’s shadow looming over me.
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