The latch popped open, and a few of my old, worn clothes fell down the steps.
“Get out! Get out of my sight right now!” He was panting heavily, his chest heaving as he pointed toward the gate.
“I don’t have a son like you!”
Leroy raised his phone to take pictures, his face glowing with amusement, like he was watching the best show of his life.
Linda gently rubbed my father’s back, pretending to comfort him.
“Calm down, Wayne, don’t let anger gets you. It’s bad for your health and it’s not worth it,” she said in sugary tone. “He’s young and impulsive—doesn’t know the world better. We can always make him learn later…”
But I noticed the smug look in her eyes.
Silently, I gathered my scattered clothes and picked up my college diploma. I brushed off the dust clinging to its cover, then gripped the two crumpled hundred-dollar bills tightly in my hand. With my back straight and head held high, I walked away from that grand, luxurious house that had never had warm in it.
Behind me, my father’s furious shouts still echoed, mixed with Linda’s fake words of comfort—
and muffled laughter from Leroy that he could no longer hold back.
The iron gate of the manor slowly swung shut behind me with a heavy clang, sealing off that different world from mine.
The sunlight was little harsh; I squinted, looking toward the city skyline in the distance, watching the endless flow of cars and people.
This time, I wouldn’t live like I did in my previous life—wandering aimlessly through the lowest depths of society, trading my life away for scraps with cheap labor.
Two hundred dollars. It was enough—enough to buy a train ticket back to my grandfather’s home.
If they didn’t want me living off the family, then for God’s sake, I wouldn’t.
***
After several hours of jolting travel, I finally arrived at the small village from my memories—a place filled with the scent of earth and the warmth of home.
Grandpa was sitting on a small wooden stool in the yard, rolling tobacco in his hands, while Grandma was busy in the kitchen.
Thin wisps of smoke rose from the stove, bringing the warm smell of home-cooked food.
“Leonard? Why are you here, child?” Grandpa looked up, surprise flashing in his wrinkled face, followed quickly by a look of concern.
Hearing his voice, Grandma came rushing out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. Her face lit up the moment she saw me.