consulting the past
Jess’s unyielding defiance left us with no alternative—I was forced to make a heartbreaking decision. We had to create distance. That evening, my dad began making calls, reaching out to his old friends for advice on how to navigate the situation. “This has gone too far,” he muttered, his voice heavy with frustration as he dialed one number after another. Each conversation seemed to nudge him closer to contemplating drastic action. Mom and I exchanged anxious glances, the weight of unspoken fears hanging heavily between us.
Consulting The Past
impending doom
The looming threat of what Dad might do filled me with dread, leaving me powerless to intervene. Every conversation, every word he spoke, carried an undercurrent of simmering anger. The determination in his eyes was unmistakable—a dangerous resolve that kept me awake at night. We were teetering on the edge of chaos, and I had no idea how to pull us back from the brink. The tension was suffocating, heavy as a storm about to break.
Impending Doom
