Internal perception

Harald

As we all sat at the dinner table, I couldn't help the feeling of discomfort that washed over me. It was as if the pressure was increasing with each passing second. The atmosphere was tense, almost suffocating, and I knew that, at any moment, something could collapse. The truth is, I've always felt this way around Charles and Bruce. No matter what I did, it never seemed to be enough.

And it was at that moment, as I looked around, that something inside me began to boil. I don't know if it was the arrogant way my father looked at me, as if I were inferior to him, or Bruce's sarcastic laugh, always waiting for me to fail. Something broke, and before I could control myself, the words were out of my mouth.

"Dad," I began, my voice firmer than I expected. "Why did you always look down on me? Why did you always treat me like I was nothing, while you glorified Bruce? What did I do to deserve this?"

Charles stopped cutting the meat on his plate and looked up at me, as if surprised by my