Paradox of Being - Sukani's Return

"Rise and shine, little pumpkin!" my mom chimed, opening the curtains to let in the bright sunlight. I groggily covered my face with my blanket, not a morning person, I prefer to wallow in my misery for a bit longer. Plus who needs that much brightness before coffee?!

"Mom, get out of my face! I don't wanna go!" I snapped, still trying to sleep.

"You know we can't afford for you to miss school, dear. Your dad and I are struggling to make ends meet," she reminded me, her voice firm but gentle.

I rolled my eyes so hard they got stuck that way. "Yeah yeah I know, we're one step away from being homeless." I grumbled, remembering yesterday's argument. Why couldn't they just let me stay home? I hated Redfield Junior High, one of the most expensive schools in town. It seemed absurd that I attended such a prestigious school, given my parents' humble jobs as a chef and nanny.

My mind wandered to my grandma, who had passed away five years ago. Rumors swirled that my dad was responsible for her death, but he never confirmed or denied it. I still missed her and remembered the day she left us like it was yesterday.

It was a Saturday morning, and my parents had taken her for a routine checkup. I was the average nine year old living my best life, playing with my toys in the kitchen. Grandma kissed my forehead and said, "Bye, Ches darling. Your babysitter will be here soon." She checked herself out in the mirror, her elegance and youthfulness still vivid in my memory.

Grandma had my dad at fifteen and his dad didn't want him, plus they weren't married so the sicko ran off. Their complicated past made their relationship strained. She blamed him for ruining her life, but it wasn't entirely his fault. They constantly hurled curses at each other, even in front of me. It was like a war zone, and I was just a helpless civilian caught in the crossfire. They had no filter, no shame and no regard for my fragile self. I mean who needs therapy when you live in a house like mine right? Their openness about their conflicts might have contributed to my spoiled nature. I had a happy childhood, but not a typical one. My grandma didn't have a tough teenage life, begging for food and money to support her child. She came from a wealthy family and had self-respect. I adored everything about her. She was my superhero grandma, minus the cape and ability to fly. I grew up in her loving care.

Things were going smoothly until my dad lost his job, and my mom took on a less-than-ideal role just before grandma's passing. That day, she was extra sweet, paying attention to every detail. She wore her favorite floor-length white dress, her hair in loose French curls, and her face radiated warmth. Her bright blue eyes sparkled, and her red lipstick left a lasting impression.

After they left, I was left alone, and my babysitter was nowhere to be found. I was nine years old, and it seemed like a dream come true. I indulged in some solo playtime, ripping the house apart (literally!), I trashed the house, danced on the tables and sang at the top of my lungs, off key of course! Until exhaustion took over, and I took a long nap. When I woke up at 4 pm, my babysitter was still absent, and my parents and grandma hadn't returned from the hospital. Panic started to set in. I tried calling them on the landline, but there was no answer. Hungry, tired, and a little scared, I did what any self - respecting child would do - I went to our neighbor Fiona's house (before she became wealthy, of course). Her kind father escorted me home around 6 pm, looking a bit forgetful. I thanked him and entered my house, only to find that grandma was nowhere to be found. My dad was slaving away in the kitchen, while my mom sat on the couch, her eyes looking like two swollen watermelons! It was like, totally obvious she'd been bawling her eyes out. "Mom! Dad! Where's grandma?!" I demanded, my voice shaking with anxiety. And then, my dad dropped the bombshell: "She's dead." Just like that! Like, I asked him where the TV remote was or something! I swear, my heart stopped beating. Everything went dark. My parents claim I fainted, but I'm like, totally sure they drugged me to shut me up! They're hiding something, I just know it! Everyone thinks my dad offed her, but I don't know about me. My biggest fear is what if everyone is right? I always try not to delve too much into the matter. My grandma was, like, the most perfect person ever! How could she just drop dead like that?! It's a total mystery! And then, my dad goes and buys this tiny, ugly house in Redsfeld Estate - like, the most expensive place ever! And enrolls me in that snobby Redsfeld Junior High, where all the rich kids brag about their designer clothes and fancy cars. It's a constant reminder of our poverty, I'm not jealous but...why not me? Did I mention he also bought the ugliest most disgusting mini van? I'm like, totally stuck in this nightmare! My dad could've done so much better with the inheritance money, but noooo... he had to go and waste it on this stupid house and school. It's like, soooo not fair!

After the drama with my mom, I reluctantly got ready for school, knowing she'd kill me if I didn't show up. I took a shower and put on my worn-out uniform, which was a far cry from the stylish uniforms my classmates wore. As I gazed into the mirror, I couldn't help but notice my rugged good looks - piercing blue eyes, plump lips, perfectly arched eyebrows, chiseled jawline, and hair that always seemed to be perfectly messy. But, my uniform told a different story. My once-vibrant red coat had faded to a dull shade, my white shirt was passable, but my navy blue pants were frayed and worn out. My shoes were literally falling apart, with holes on the left side. I'd begged my parents to get me new ones, but they just ignored me. Compared to the other kids at school, I looked like a homeless orphan - a reject from the fashion world. Other kids probably wore their uniforms once and then discarded them, while I was stuck with the same two sets for every semester. But who would I blame? My tuition fee was far too expensive for my dad to waste money on uniform! It was a miracle I'd become immune to the kids snickers and taunts, but it still stung. I often wondered what it would be like to have rich parents, but I guess that was just a pipe dream. I joked that my family was cursed, but deep down, I knew we were just plain unlucky. In summary I'm just the most unfortunate guy on earth!