Realistic+-+Free+Like+a+Bird

Free Like a Bird “You better come home and do your homework before you hang out with your friends,” as I listened on the phone. It was mom. I hated it when she was at home after school waiting for me to get home and do everything SHE wanted me to do. That was exactly my whole problem. She chose what I was to do. Here and there she would let me go out but, it all depended on her mood; a good mood was satisfying while a bad mood was just unimaginable. Mom was a highly educated person who had quit her job after moving out of the States due to my dad’s work. She was focused on spending more time with her children which in fact she had accomplished in a very short period of time. She was a very restricting person. She rarely gave me free time to do things with my friends. From her perspective, free time was a time to do chores and not do anything fun. She was a very picky person as well. After her mother past away, she started to notice the slightest mishaps of my actions which led to the unwanted consequences. Although, the death of her mother the previous year was a depressing situation for her to cope with. I didn’t want to put much of a burden on her to weigh her down even more. I thought that she would have at least been more accepting and permit me to do my own stuff on her own will. Instead, she wants me to come home all the time. The chance of freedom was all I really wanted from her. I wanted to see things and do things from a different angle, from a different place. I wanted to be able to have fun without mom raging around the house with a temper, throwing things around as a result of me asking “can I hang out with my friends”, the dreaded words I’m afraid to say anymore. Freedom was a very hard – shall I say – “gift” to earn, let alone receive. There wasn’t really a point in fighting for this “gift” if I was pretty much guaranteed I wasn’t even going to get it. In other words, I had no chance of talking my mom into letting me have fun when I knew the answer was already going to be NO. It all made me think, why do I even have friends? Why do I even think of having fun? This was starting to get on my nerves. Every day my friends were having freedom going about doing their business. I came home since it had then become a habitual routine. I planned out a formidable plan to grasp the “yes” that mom rarely said. Even when she did say “yes” it was said with such a reluctant tone that you took it in as a “no”. I planned on asking her while dad was at home. Dad was a very intelligent businessman. CEO of Floxor ®, a company that was known for its large storage hard drives. Stress was a high emotion that always seemed to cling on to him. Dad was the neutral kind. During arguments he practically just stood there thinking twice on whose side he should take. Just like a jury. Turning up with unbiased knowledge and later becoming biased. Although, unbiased didn’t fit his description at this moment .I knew dad would take my side. That was the leading factor for this doubtful plan. The day before I had complained to him about my issue between mom and I. That day ended with hearing a solid, in depth conversation in my parent’s room. Who knew what the topic was? Dad came home at 6:00 p.m., the usual. He was always uplifted when he came home because getting away from his rigorous work was such a relief. Mom was in the kitchen cooking up a storm for the family. A family dinner was a monthly occurrence due to the unwanted togetherness. But, today was wanted. Mom finished cooking at 6:15 while I was rethinking this upcoming “event”. When I say event I mean event. An event is a big thing and no doubt this was going to be a big thing. As we eat our dinner of fried chicken I let it out “Can I hang out with my friends tomorrow,” I said with a slight stutter. Mom just froze. I knew it. This was the time when I knew what was going to happen and just let her turn me down. I noticed dad’s expression as if he was expecting something out of her. I kept exchanging glances with mom and dad trying to find the lost communication between them. I finished my dinner and went to go wash the dishes. As I approached the kitchen, mom’s voice broke the silence. “Come back, Ethan,” she said with, surprisingly as it seemed, a slight tone of acceptance and willing. I walk back sit down and look at her, waiting. “Sorry,” she said sympathetically. I was thinking of those unexpected endings when they end up saying, “Oh, sorry that you have to leave me, but you CAN hang out with your friends.” Then, out came the words…… NO. That was it. I was so mad. I stormed up to my room and slammed the door shut. Mom never came in to say goodnight. After school, the next day, I just did it. I didn’t care what mom would do. It turned out to be the best thing that ever happened. I got to do things that never were possible under my mom’s rules. I was finally able to do and see things in a totally different perspective. I felt – what’s the word – FREE, the one feeling I was restricted of and always wanted.