Caroline

I sat on the bed and was still fuming with anger when my phone rang.

If I hadn't checked the caller, I'd have cussed out.

It was my dad.

I picked up on the last ring.

"Hey, Carol," my dad said in his all-masculinity.

"Dad! Call me Caroline or don't call my name at all," calling me Carol makes me feel like a Santa Claus getting chased on Christmas Day but my mum and dad never change neither will the new neighbor.

I don't get why everyone thinks Caroline must always be shortened as Carol.

"Alright, Carol," he repeated and I shrugged.

"We got you a job," he said and I could hear from his voice that he sounded like a proud dad for landing the milestone.

I perched the phone more tightly to my ear but then again, reality hit me and I remember being willing to give up.

"I'm done going to any of your friend's offices and I am done taking your letter-headed paper for submission. I am also done getting school loans or going for job interviews," I explained and laid back in bed.

"Still, you should come back home. You'd love to listen to the details," I heard my mum say.

"You want me to come over?" I asked with surprise laced in my tone.

"Not to come over, but to return home so you can get the job done," she said and I could hear my dad murmur something in the background.

"Come on, mum! You know that's not possible. You want me to leave behind my whole life here and just start a two hours journey down home because you got a job for me? A job that might end up like the others? Nah!"

"If it's not worth it, we wouldn't ask you to return home," my mum said.

"We wouldn't," I heard my dad aiding in the background.

If making money doesn't sound good, I'd have ended the call and continued my peaceful reading or painting or whatever it was I was doing before the intruder.

Still, making money sounds so cool so I gave in.

"I should be there before nighttime," I retorted before ending the call and I started packing my things.

I packed a very few things, including all of my toiletries.

A few things since I might as well not get the job and end up coming back here. Exactly where I belong.

Yet, the thought of what to do with my life struck my mind. I guess it's too early to start planning that.

I was done packing and was shutting my door when the next-door neighbor came by again.

She attempted to speak but this time, I gave her no audience. I walked past her without a smile on my face.

"Be safe, Carol," she screamed at my retreating back.

Only if I could squeeze her bones out.

A couple of hours later, I was unpacking in my teenage room. Where I had thought wouldn't be my resting place unless it was Thanksgiving or Christmas.

My mum came by with a cup of water and told me to come down for dinner.

I looked at her as though she was missing something but she didn't get the glimpse or she doesn't want to.

I took a large gulp before placing the cup down and finished unpacking. There was little to nothing to unpack.

I looked around the room and forgot the smell of cinnamon mixed with roses smell that always intertwine with the air in the room after I use my favorite shampoo.

Now, it's replaced with the smell of dust and rain.

I took a picture frame that was taken in high school when I dressed as a nurse for Halloween. The memories of that day played in my head like a movie.

I had always wanted to become a nurse since I was in fourth grade but the passion was fading away after I searched for a job in multiple hospitals and was declined, so I decided to opt for painting, and still, I wasn't accepted.

I always thought I was quite versatile.

I made friends with a nurse that treated me back then when I was sick. She looked so beautiful in her dress, which rose the passion to be one within me, and now, I think I should have a painting of her.

"Caroline. You should come down now for dinner," my thought was disrupted and I hurried out.

We said 'the grace' and I was going to take a bite of my meal when my dad spoke.

"You are just going to act like you don't know why you're back home?"

I dropped my spoon and looked at him.

"In all honesty, I do not have a tad of faith in the job and I'm not acting like I don't know why I'm home, I simply just do not know, " I replied and they looked at me as though I was drunk.

"It's a multi-million dollar job," my dad said and I smiled widely.

"Multi-million dollar job?" I asked and my mum nodded.

"Tell me about it, dad,"

"Now you wanna know about it," he said with a smile before taking a mouthful of his meal.

"We should celebrate this," my mum stood and retrieved a bottle of red wine.

"I mean, it only makes sense that I know about the job now, don't you think?" I set down the cup and if it wasn't a red wine, I'd have concluded that I was tipsy but then, even water could get me drunk.

They looked at each other and everything within seem so suspicious.

"What's it?" I asked already feeling impatient.

"You are getting married. You are getting married to the contractor's son," my dad announced.

I gulped down the rest of the wine in the cup. I looked at my dad straight in the eye without blinking for a few seconds before bursting out in quite audible laughter.