English Crime | Short Story

Innledning
I go by the name Rose, a moniker my father has consistently held in high regard. The irony lies in the fact that he confided in me that my mother's preference leaned towards naming me Willow.

Sadly, my mother's presence was fleeting, her departure occurring when I was a mere six months old, rendering her a complete stranger to me.

According to my father, she was a troubled soul, her self-centeredness overshadowing any consideration for others.

I find myself harboring daily resentment towards my absent mother, an emotion fueled by her abandonment, despite the lack of any personal connection.

Utdrag
Snatching a pancake from the platter, I resettled myself at the table. A slight incline to the right accompanied my elbows landing on the surface.

Dad, true to form, bristled at the sight, often reiterating his classic line, "Rose, your mom wouldn't have approved of that."

Buried beneath the surface, I recognize his enduring affection for her. Evidence manifests whenever my aunt brings her up in conversation; a subtle shift in his countenance betrays the depth of his emotions.

To an outsider, it might appear as mere confusion, his raised eyebrows and squinted eyes. Yet, having memorized his microexpressions, I can decipher the undertone of disappointment he conceals.

However, despite his lingering love for Mom, Dad remains steadfast in his candor. The trait of honesty courses through him, an aspect that he consistently imparts, even when facing my reluctance to confront certain truths.

Glancing at the clock's display, a curse escaped my lips, "Damn, I've got to get going!" The urgency in my voice surged as I reached out to grab my backpack.

"Honey, hold on a sec—" His sentence was left hanging as the door slammed shut behind me, my voice carrying my parting words, "Love you!"

Bounding down the apartment building's staircase, my pace was fueled by determination. Thankfully, the bus still lingered at the curb.

A silent expression of gratitude filled my thoughts as I stepped onto the bus. Settling into a solitary seat, I reveled in the comfort of my own company, a sentiment I cherished, especially within the bus's confines.

The bus gradually came to a halt, interrupting my introspection. As I gathered my belongings, my gaze fixed upon the imposing structure outside. A contemplative thought arose, whispered to myself, "Is today the day I truly want to take this step?"