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Tornado - Jonsi

I wonder if I'm allowed ever to see. I wonder if I'm allowed to ever be free.

ISABELLA

The warmth of the afternoon sun seeped through the taxi's window. It beat against my face, warming every inch of my skin. I felt like I was about to combust. My nerves continuing to grow the closer we reached my old home. I wasn't sure if this was the best idea because I already knew what the outcome would be.

It took me a whole week and a half to muster up enough courage to go there. When I first landed in New York, I told Natalia that I wanted to go to our parents place. I explained my desire to confront our dad about everything he did back in December. She warned me that it wouldn't be the smartest move on my part, but I didn't care. All that I wanted to do was give him a piece of my mind. It's because of him that my relationship was over. I needed him to know that.

But as our taxi pulled up in front of the place I had called home for most of my life, I couldn't do it. I froze. My heart began to palpitate against my chest. My anxiety rose with the mere thought about coming face to face with him. I couldn't do it. I wouldn't do it... so we went home.

Yet here I was, a week and a half later, in a taxi cab that smelt like salami on the our way to the home where everything began. 

"Here we are ladies," the driver informs us soon after. I turn my head, glancing over at Nat who gives me the best reassuring smile she could muster up. I take out cash from my wallet, handing it over to our driver.

We stepped out of the car. Our home had never seemed intimidating from the outside. Its bricked exterior was gorgeous. It was the inside that all the terror took place. Taking a deep breath, I lead us up the steps. I pull out my key, unlocking the heavy oak door.

Inside was cold. A stream of sunlight lit up the front hallway. A mixture of cigar stale smoke and his heavy cologne linger near the doorway.

"Do you think he's home?" I asked.

"He said he would be working in his office all day," Natalia replies. "Do you want me to go in with you?"

"No... I need to do this on my own."

She looks at me, hesitance written in her features. "You're sure?"

I inhale a deep breath, exhaling slowly... nodding. "Yeah... I'm sure."

"Okay... I'll wait in the living room."

I watch as she makes her way into the other room, her heeled sandals clicking against the wood flooring. With a deep breath, and a silent prayer, I walk over to where his office was. The heavy scent of his cologne leads the path. Standing outside the door, I take in tentative breaths. If my heart hadn't been beating erratically against my chest prior to this, it was now.

The whole car ride over, and the few hours prior to that, I had created a whole speech inside of my mind. I was going to confront my father on everything he'd done. I was going to bring up the times he'd miss my piano recitals as a little girl because he was too busy meeting with a client, or how he kept pushing me... pestering... about my grades in high school. I was then going to bring up how he dictated who I wanted to be and who I wanted to be with, unbeknownst to myself.

I was tired of living up to his unattainable standards. I wanted to be my own person... I was going to be twenty-four, for crying out loud. I didn't need to be in the constant rule of my father.

But as I stood outside the door of the place I avoided far too many times as a child, everything I wanted to say... to bring up... seemed to flee from my mind. The nerves in my hands began to shake. My heart rate picked up. I couldn't do this... I –

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