The life I once knew had shattered, and now everything felt out of my control. But there was no escaping this way of life, even as I mourned my parents' death.
Less than a week after laying my parents to rest, I sat in the living room, surrounded by relatives who congregated in the living room. It felt like I was seated in some official business meeting. They spoke amongst themselves, but they didn't speak to me. I just sat in the corner, feeling very small and lost.
I knew they were talking about me. About what would happen to me now. But no one asked me how I felt. I just sat there listening. I didn't know most of them.
Some were from my mom's family. Some were from my dad's. Dad's family didn't visit much before, so I didn't know them at all.
I looked at their faces, hoping to remember who was who, but that proved to be a waste of time. I could only recognized few people from her mom's side of the family.
My dad's side of the family were also there, i could barely recognize any of them. They had rarely visited, and my dad hadn't kept close contact with them.
Still, they came, some out of duty, others out of curiosity, but none of them felt familiar. It felt different on my mom's side though, they had been closer, I had visited some, while some had visited, but even with them being present, I wasn't comfortable
Aunt Linda was the only one who stayed near me, her hand resting gently on my shoulder as unsaid support.
Finally, Uncle James cleared his throat. I barely remembered him from some long-ago family gathering. He sounded like he had already made up his mind, his tone was anything but compassionate.
"So, the question is… what's going to happen with Emily? She can't stay here alone," he said, looking around the room as if he were leading some official council. I felt the knots forming in my stomach.
This was my home. I had so many memories of my parents here. I looked around the room and remembered Mom sitting on the couch knitting, and Dad always laughing at funny videos on his phone.
The once lively house was now a shadow of itself. I looked around the house. I remembered Mom sitting on the couch knitting and Dad laughing at funny videos on his phone. The house felt so sad and cold now. It wasn't the same without them.
I wanted to cry so bad. Why were they talking about me like I wasn't even there?
Didn't they see I was hurting?
Couldn't they see I wasn't doing okay?
I missed my parents so much, and now it felt like I was losing my home too.
I noticed the way Aunt Linda and Uncle James kept exchanging angry looks at each other. It looked like they didn't agree on anything. The room suddenly went silent, couldn't remember why.
One of mom's cousins, Aunt Miriam, nodded gravely. "She's only seventeen. Still a child. She can't be on her own."
There was a noticeable tone of impatience edged in her voice, as though I were more of a nuisance than a person. Aunt Linda shot Miriam a glance, her mouth tightening, but she said nothing for my sake.
I knew very well how much my aunt had always protected me, she would have thrown hands at that point. I knew she was hurting and was still trying to keep her cool for my sake. But i never imagined that one day I'd need her to defend her in such an icy, indifferent gathering. These people were meant to be family.
"What would happen to me now? Would i have to move out of the house?"
I had no idea what was happening. Everything sounded so scary.
Another voice cut in, my dad's brother, a man who had barely spoken to me in my entire life. "Well, she's almost eighteen. It wouldn't be long until she could just… you know, manage on her own."
I felt pained with the way he had casually dismissed me as if my feelings didn't matter. It was like my entire life had been reduced to a minor inconvenience they wanted to brush off.
I was seventeen for crying out loud, and besides that, we all share the same blood, I was supposed to be one of them.
"I can't believe you're talking about her like she's some burden to be dealt with," Aunt Linda's voice broke in, her voice was low but you could tell by the way her legs were vibrating on the sofa, how pissed she was.
Aunt Miriam gave her a side eyes. She seemed more worried about the house than me. "Well, we can't leave the house empty. Someone has to take care of it." But Aunt Linda quickly shot back, "The house isn't the most important thing right now. Emily is."
"She just lost her parents. She's still in mourning. And I'd like to believe we all are too".
The room fell silent for a moment, aunt Linda's words seemed to mellow the mood, but that didn't last long at all. Not long before that someone started the conversation again, i couldn't even remember who exactly, all I knew was that i was tired of the whole thing.
I felt like crying, my head was hurting, the room was spinning, but none of that seemed to matter to the people in the room, all they cared about was themselves.
Somewhere along the line, someone suggested placing me in some government welfare agency across the state, since I had long passed the age for foster care.
A few murmurs of agreement came from my dad's side of the family, but my mom's side looked around uncomfortably, though it seemed like they were for me, they weren't offering any help to her situation.
It was only aunt Linda who cursed them out calling them all sorts of foul names which had shocked everyone including myself, and that started another round of word battles.
Finally, Uncle James cleared his throat again, his voice firm this time. "Linda, be realistic. You're alone and have to manage your life. It isn't exactly easy to take a teenager right now."
It felt like a jab at Aunt Linda, as if implying she was still unmarried and didn't understand the struggles of adding another child to her life.
Anger flashed in Aunt Linda's eyes. "I don't care about what's easy," she shot back. "Emily is family. She's my sister's daughter. And if no one else here is willing to step up, I am."
Waves of gratitude and relief flooded me. I felt a little better after hearing Aunt Linda's words. At least someone cared about me. But the rest of them in the room stayed quiet, like they didn't even want to help.
Aunt Linda was the only one really willing to be there for me, the only one who saw me as more than an obligation. I squeezed aunt Linda's hand; I didn't know what to say, but i was really grateful. But my relief was short-lived.
The second Aunt Linda declared she would take me in, the conversation veered in another direction. Uncle James leaned forward, his tone businesslike.
"Then there's the matter of the estate," he said, looking around the room. "Their… you know…" He paused before saying the word "assets"—the house… we need to determine what will become of everything."
My heart clenched. They were talking about my parents' belongings, their life savings, like they were things to be divided up.
I didn't even have a moment to process my loss, and now they were discussing money and property, reducing my parents' life to numbers and possessions. Aunt Linda's face darkened. "Can we not discuss that right now? For heaven's sake, Emily is sitting right there."
But her words fell on deaf ears. They just clustered together, you could tell by the expectant look on their faces that it was the main reason for the meeting. Their voices grew louder and louder, as they all brought different suggestions to suit themselves.
I sat, frozen, as they argued over the will, over items that held no meaning to them but were everything to me. The furniture, my father's car, our family savings, all of it was discussed and debated as if they were at some auction hall, not the remains of my parents' life together.
My parents had been wealthy, they had a lot of businesses opened and operated in their name and mine. They had been ones to help outsiders not to talk more of family. Seeing these greedy lots fighting over what wasn't theirs pained me. I felt like throwing each one of them out of the house, and locking the door to their faces.
I just sat there looking as they kept talking about the house, I clenched my fists. I wanted to say something, but my throat felt tight. I couldn't stay silent anymore, though. My parents had loved me, and I couldn't let them be treated anyhow in my presence by the people they had once looked after.
Not being able to hold it in anymore, I stood up. "I don't care who you are or what right you guys think you have. This is my parents' home, our family house, and everything in it belongs to them. I won't sit here and listen to all of this nonsense."
"To think that I've barely seen a whole lot of you my whole life. I've barely had any conversation with a whole lot of you, but now my parents are gone you act like family?" I shouted angrily.
"Well, I don't want that kind of family!"
Tears ran down my face.
Aunt Melinda stood up angrily. "Watch your mouth, young lady. We're trying to help you."
"I get that you're hurting. But losing your parents doesn't give you an excuse to disrespect your elders."
There were murmurs of agreement. Another made a comment about it being their brother's property and how I was now a child in their care.
Tears ran down my cheeks, down the wrinkled shirt I threw on that morning. I knew I looked pitiful at that moment, but I wasn't backing down.
"Seriously, If this were to be a picture of what a true family relations looks like, then I don't ever want to be any part of it," I yelled.
They all ignored me and continued with their conversation.
Feeling crushed, my eyes landed on a small, cracked vase by the window. It had been my mother's favorite, but now it was broken, just like everything in my life.
Aunt Linda spoke loudly in anger. "Enough of this nonsense! This isn't about any one of you or what you think you are owed. This is about Emily, and I won't stand here and watch you treat her parents' memory like some sort of inheritance to be fought over."
The room turned silent as they all turned to look at Aunt Linda. My aunt's voice had shaken with restrained fury, her eyes were shining with anger.
Aunt Linda turned to me, softening her tone. "Emily, c'mon. We don't have to stay here anymore."
I nodded and got up real slow, feeling some of the heavy weight lift off me when I left the room. The room felt all stuffy and hard to stay in. As we walked out, I heard few murmurs of protest from some people, but Aunt Linda ignored them. She just kept walking and took me out of the house.
It was freezing outside, but at least I could breathe out here. My hands wouldn't stop shaking, no matter how many deep breaths I took. I hated that, how my body gave me away.
"Thanks, Aunt Linda," I said quietly. "For standing up for me." My voice cracked a little at the end enough to make me wince. My voice sounded so small, I hated it, but Aunt Linda didn't seem to mind. She just pulled me into a hug. It was tight, but warm.
'You don't have to thank me, Ivy,' she said. "Your family. You never have to thank me for that."
We stood there like that, not saying anything else.
I felt a little bit hopeful at that moment. Life was still scary, the people who I was expected to look up to, to rely on, had turned out worse than the serpent, but I felt relieved that at least I wasn't completely alone. Even if the rest had turned out bad, I still had Aunt Linda who still cared about me.
As we walked farther from the house, my chest felt tight. I thought about everything that had happened, and it hurt bad. I was glad to be away from those mean people who made everything harder. But deep inside, I still felt scared of what they might do next.
It was them against myself and Aunt Linda.
Part of me wanted to turn around, storm back in, and yell at them to get out forever. But I couldn't.
All I could do was keep my head down and walk away from the home that used to be mine.