Chapter One: Family

While moving along with the song, my fingers quickly tapped the keyboard, creating that familiar sound that the four corners of my room hear every day. My eyes were focused on the screen, possibly the only thing I've been looking at for the past year aside from television.

As usual, I hardly noticed the time. Half an hour, an hour, until it reaches two hours. And the previously blank screen is now filled with three thousand words.

"The end." I said fondly while pressing the letter' D,' a sign that I had finished another novel. "Finished." I smiled and lengthened the last word, raising my arms in triumph and letting out a big yawn before slumping back on my chair.

I finished another novel. A novel that, after a few months, will become a book and will be displayed in bookstores just like my other works. And as always, I'm confident with how the book ended. Just like how I wanted it to.

"And... Print!" I said with a smile while printing my manuscript to be sent to my company tomorrow.

I reached for my empty glass and stood up while waiting for the papers to finish. I passed by my bookshelf, where exactly forty-nine Romance novels I have finished and books can be seen. I smiled and ran my fingers through them before petting my cat Princess's head.

"Hello, Princess. It's a beautiful morning, isn't it?" I asked her sweetly.

After she meowed and rubbed her head on my hand, I stood up and went straight to the fridge to fill my glass with water. After that, I yawned, opened the curtain, and winced as my eyes were dazzled by the sun. I was greeted by the towering buildings and condos, even the houses below. You can see the terrible traffic on the road from the 10th floor, where my condo is. I'm thankful for not experiencing it as a stay-in worker.

"Good morning, America," I said flatly while drinking water. "The morning has caught up with me again." I sighed and said to myself and left the window.

It's always like this when I'm chasing my deadline. I hardly notice the time anymore. Sometimes, I will just look outside the window to find out that it's evening already. Whenever my fingers touch the keyboard, I'll be completely immersed in my own world and travel to the world I'm creating.

Because writers like me indeed have their own world. And in that world, I am with the characters I have developed. I am them; they are me, and we'll write a whole new world together.

I yawned again for the nth time and set the glass down on my small living room table, and picked up the stack of paper I call my manuscript. I sat on the carpet and rubbed the head of my other cat, Prince. Yes, my cats are lovers because I hated leaving Princess alone, so I got him a prince.

Even though I was sleepy, I forced myself to read my novel with sixty thousand words or a book with two hundred pages. The result of my several days of staying awake. Result of a few forgotten lunches, dinners, and breakfasts just to finish it. Sweat, blood, and tears just to entertain readers like me who love to read. And, of course, some sleepiness had to be endured, but even if it's often like that, I still won't trade it for anything else.

My eyes started moving to read the words. I was thrilled and smiling at scenes that I am still surprised I can write, even though I have written a lot already. And as usual, I made sure my manuscript was clean and had no errors or plot holes.

Romance has been my genre since then until now. I have tried to write Horror, Mystery, Children's poems, and Non-Fiction books, but I keep returning to Romance, which drew me to start trying to write in the first place. Because when I was young, I read my Mom's pocketbooks and was enticed to try them. I loved the feeling and emotions it gave me.

I finished College with a Journalism course because I also wanted to be a journalist before I decided to pursue what I had wanted to do for a long time and became a Creative Writer. At the age of twenty-two, I became a Freelance Writer until I signed a contract and became an official Full Time Writer for the company 'Book is Life.' And currently, I'm almost three years into the company.

I was halfway there when my cell phone rang, and I sighed when I saw that it was my Mom calling. I know she will force me again to come to our reunion later.

However, I still reached for it and answered before continuing to read. "Hello, Mom?"

"Why aren't you answering my call?

"Sorry, Mom. I was finishing my manuscript."

I'm sure by this time, she's shaking her head again. "You are stressing out so much with your job when the income is not even half what you can earn had you pursued being an actual journalist. And I told you to look for a vacant position in the government instead. That is permanent, and it's a job you can actually be proud of."

I closed my eyes tightly and put down the papers I was reading because my eyes had already lost the words. "Mom, this is my passion, and I make money for myself. Enough to eat and pay for the condo."

And they wonder why I moved out. Why I stayed away from the family when instead of supporting me, all they say is being a Writer is not a job?

"How about the reunion? I told you that you must come because your Uncle Blake and his girlfriend are coming home. God, we never really see you anymore, Sarvia. Are you really distancing yourself from your family?"

"Mom, please," I said tiredly while holding my head, already feeling a headache coming.

I've been awake since early morning working on my book, and my brain is tired, and my Mom is scolding me, the one person who I thought was the first person who would understand and support me when I started my career three years ago.

"Just go, Sarvia. I want to see you at the reunion; otherwise, I might forget I still have a daughter."

Before I could answer, she hung up. I bit my lower lip before throwing my phone on the sofa and covering my face miserably. I moaned loudly before lying on the sofa, forcing my tired brain to rest. I also violently wiped the tears from my eyes because of resentment.

Why can't they understand me? Why... is it that my family is the villain in my story instead of supporting characters?

They label me as a stubborn child. I'm the one who isn't 'family-centered,' so I chose to stay away. I'm the arrogant daughter and niece because I try to distance myself from them even though I just want to save myself.

Is it wrong to separate yourself from a toxic family that never understood you? That never really supported you in anything you do? The family that, instead of supporting each other, did nothing to pull each other down by pointing out one's mistake instead of finding solutions?

I didn't realize that I had fallen asleep in a bad mood and had dry tears in my eyes. I woke up at three o'clock in the afternoon, and even though I wanted to sleep more, I forced myself to get up to go to the reunion party of the Wilson family.

Since I was an hour late, I took only a short time to shower. It did not take long to choose what to wear when I saw the floral skirt and white blouse I recently bought. I faced my mini makeup altar because I am not really a fan of putting too much on my face and applying light makeup.

I reached for my foundation and gently colored my heart-shaped face. With my slightly narrow eyes and natural hazel brown eyes that I inherited from my grandmother's coat, I only applied light pink eyeshadow and thin mascara and eyeliner. Next, I applied my pink lip gloss to my lips, which were not thick but thin. Others say I have the same lip shape as Angelina Jolie, with just a little more flesh. Using my heart-shaped brush, I combed my natural black hair that almost reached my butt in length. Since birth, my hair has not been treated with chemicals, and I can confidently say that I'm one of the lucky few to be blessed with beautiful hair.

After painting my face, I put on my triangle-shaped earrings with stones, a simple chain necklace, and the same gold watch I've been wearing for three years. It was the first thing I ever bought in writing, so it has sentimental value.

"Let's do this, Sarvia." I encouraged myself because I felt like I was going to war, and maybe I am.

A few moments later, the taxi I booked arrived, and I was on my way to my Uncle Blake's house, who had come home from America. Outside, I saw the row of cars from the other side, making me want to go home instead.

"That's okay, Via. Bond with them for a while and then go home." I whispered to myself after getting out of the car and looking up at Tito Blake's three-story house.

I was still a little surprised when someone spoke as I stepped forward. "Taxi, really? You still haven't saved anything from the writing you're so proud of to actually buy a car?"

I was stunned by the words I heard from my brother, Marcus, the eldest of four. I was the second; following me was Theo and our youngest, Jonathan, who was only five years old.

He stomped on his cigarette and went back inside without waiting for me.

I slowly clenched my fists, forced myself to go inside, and stopped at the gate. It did not take me long to see my family. Mom and Dad are talking to my Aunt Francine, my Dad's sister. Jonathan is chasing other kids, Theo, who is only two years older than me and is currently twenty-three years old. And my brother Marcus, who announced my arrival to our parents.

From them, I singled out my cousins and aunts, and uncles. I silently braced myself for the unpleasant words I might hear from them.

Reunion? Who said reunions are happy? Especially if your relatives have done nothing but annoy you, compare each other's children, and belittle you.

"I hate reunions," I said to myself before forcing out a smile and walking inside.

My relatives greeted me with hugs, kisses, and waves. I just politely smiled and hugged them back, even if I felt no warmth from them. Why would they bother greeting an outsider who isolated and separated herself from her family?

"How are you, dear? You look lovely." My Aunt Janice noted, and I smiled at her.

Janice is the only person I like, and the person I think is the most genuine out of everyone here with me, maybe because she's the only person who supported me more than her sister, my mother.

"I'm fine, Janice, how about you? How's Parsley?" I asked about the female dog she named after her favorite leaf.

"Oh, she's good, still stubborn as me, heh, but never mind her, come in, meet everyone. I'm sure they are dying to see you again."

I'm sure they are, but maybe I'm dying here. I said in my head but followed her to where everyone else was. She gave me a plate to eat while asking me what I'd been up to.

"Wasting her life, what else."

I pursed my lips as I heard my father's voice beside me just as I was about to answer Janice. I sighed before turning to him.

"Hello to you too, Dad. I've been fine, thank you for asking." I told him sarcastically, not wanting to eat anymore.

"Well, you'll be fine if you only listen to your mom and me."

"Stop it, Harry." Her sister-in-law intervened. "This is supposed to be a happy occasion, don't spoil it with your grumpiness. For the record, Via's perfect, and I'm with her as long as she's happy."

My heart warmed at what Janice said, and I held her hand while smiling and mouthing a thank you, which she nodded at.

"That's why she won't listen to us because you tolerate her stubbornness. Just wait and see how she crawls back to us while asking to help redirect her life." My Dad scoffed before leaving, and I won't deny his words stung, and I bit my lip.

My family's words shouldn't surprise me anymore, but it still hurts like hell.