My Hate Story

Olivia Bennett

"Hurry up, Mom. If we don't close the store soon, we won't make it home in time to get ready for Mike's graduation," I called out.

"Calm down, honey, I'm coming," my mom, Clarissa, replied. "I just finished the sales report."

"I don't know why Grandma always asks for these reports," I muttered. "It's like she doesn't even trust Dad, and he's her own son."

"Oh, sweetie, your grandmother has always been strict like this. She likes everything her way, but deep down, she loves us."

"Yeah. Really deep down."

My grandmother had been the matriarch of the family ever since my grandfather passed away a few years ago. She ran the convenience store with an iron fist, while my dad worked as the manager. My mom and I filled in the gaps—working as cashiers, cleaners, stockers, and whatever else needed to be done.

Of course, I didn't want to spend my life there. I wanted to go to college, travel, and see other places. But my parents expected me to stay at the store with my brother and eventually take over the business when they retired.

I was always the good, obedient girl, so I ended up shoving my dreams and plans in a drawer to follow their wishes. My brother, on the other hand, was the rebel of the family. He put his foot down and imposed his will until everyone just had to accept it. In the fall, Mike was leaving for college; he'd scored a scholarship to Princeton.

I had to admit, I was jealous of his courage. I should have stood up to my parents and my grandmother to fulfill my dream of studying architecture. The truth was, I had been accepted into four different colleges after secretly applying last year when I graduated, but I never told a soul. Only Mike knew about it, and that was only because he'd found my acceptance letters hidden at the back of a drawer in my room.

He'd been furious with me. He told me I couldn't just cave to our parents' wishes and that I had to chase my dreams. But I was a coward, and now I was doomed to spend my life here in the middle of nowhere.

We made it home just in time and rushed upstairs to get ready. After a quick shower, I dug through my wardrobe and pulled out my only formal dress—the same one I'd worn to my own graduation last year. It was red and form-fitting, though not overly revealing. I hated drawing attention to myself; I was actually very shy. I slipped on my usual black mid-heel sandals, pulled my hair into a simple ponytail, and swiped on some nude lipstick.

That was it. I headed downstairs to find Dad and Mike already dressed and waiting for us.

"I'm ready," I announced.

"Yeah, we noticed," Mike teased. "You've already got your frumpy uniform on."

"Wow. That would have hurt if I actually cared about your opinion," I replied grudgingly.

"Mike, don't talk to your sister like that," Dad scolded.

"I don't mean any harm," Mike said, holding his hands up. "It's just that I've never seen someone so pretty try so hard to look ugly."

"I didn't," I shot back.

"You actually did," Mom chimed in as she came down the stairs. "I have to agree with your brother on this one, sweetie."

"Can we stop talking about my looks?" I groaned. "I'm fine like this. Let's just go already, we're late."

"Yes, let's go. It's getting late," Dad agreed.

He headed out the door with Mom. I was about to follow them when Mike caught my arm, pulling me back.

"I'm serious, sis," Mike said softly. "You have to stop putting yourself last just to please others. I know you dress like this because you don't want to draw more attention than your friend Katy. She loves being the most popular, and you just want to see your friend happy. But how long are you going to keep giving up on your dreams and hiding who you are just to please other people? You only live once, and life is meant to be lived intensely. Don't forget that."

"Wow, Mike," I deflected with a small smile. "When did my little brother mature so much?"

"Oh, don't give me that. I'm only a year younger. I'm eighteen, and you just turned nineteen."

"Let's go, kids, it's getting late!" Dad called from outside.

We walked out, laughing at each other's jokes, and piled into the car where Mom and Dad were already waiting. Despite our constant sibling bickering, Mike and I were incredibly close. He told me everything about his life, and I told him everything about mine—not that I had much to report.

Mike was super popular in high school. He was the captain of the soccer team and had dated several girls, while I was just the weird virgin who had never even kissed a guy in her life. Mike always claimed I faded into the background on purpose, and that was why I pushed all the guys away.

"We're here!" Dad announced, pulling me from my thoughts with his booming excitement.

"Oh, I'm so excited!" Mom squealed.

"Yeah, we can see that," Mike laughed as we got out. "You two are practically skipping to the event hall."

"Leave them alone, Mike." I nudged him. "They're proud. It's not every day their son graduates with honors, is the valedictorian, and even wins a scholarship to Princeton."

"You speak as if you didn't graduate at the top of your class, too," Mom pointed out. "And the only reason you weren't the valedictorian was because you gave that role to Katy."

"Oh, Mom, you know I have a hard time speaking in public," I mumbled.

"Speaking of her, what is she up to now?" Mike asked.

"She's living in New York," I said. "She's going to college there."

"Let's sit down," Mom urged. "It's about to start."

The four of us found our seats just as the graduation ceremony began. Outside, a loud clap of thunder rattled the building, warning that it was going to rain soon. It was a bad sign for me. I was terrified of storms, let alone being in a car on the road during a heavy downpour.

Thankfully, I ended up getting distracted from my weather anxiety when my brother walked onto the stage for his speech. My heart swelled with pride. With natural charisma and ease, he captivated the audience, moving everyone with a beautiful speech. Before long, all the students were throwing their graduation caps into the air, bringing the celebration to a close and kicking off the cocktail reception.

Later into the party, Mom leaned over to Dad. "Honey, that's enough. You've already had three glasses of that drink. Don't forget you're driving."

"If Dad actually let anyone besides himself drive the car, he could drink without any problems," I chimed in.

"Oh no, absolutely not," Dad said, shaking his head. "Nobody touches my baby."

Outside, the storm finally broke, rain lashing down hard just as predicted. My heart began to race. It was always like this; I was absolutely terrified of storms.

Mom started yawning sleepily, while I sat there biting my nails out of sheer nerves over the rain.

"Yeah, I think it's time to go," Dad decided. "Clarissa is already sleepy. I'll go get Mike so we can leave."

"No, Dad, it's better if we wait for this rain to pass," I argued. "It can be dangerous to drive in this weather, especially after you've had three drinks."

"Oh, sweetie, don't worry. I know these roads better than anyone," Dad dismissed easily. "Besides, your mother is already dozing off in her seat, and I have to wake up early tomorrow to receive some suppliers at the store."

At Dad's words, I kept quiet. I knew from experience that once he got something in his head, absolutely nothing could make him change his mind.

Dad wove through the crowd to get Mike, and a few minutes later, the two of them returned together so we could leave.

"I thought you were going to stay here longer and catch a ride back later," I said to Mike.

"Oh no, no partying for me today," Mike replied. "Don't forget that tomorrow is my last game and we're in the finals. I want to be rested to secure my top scorer award."

"That's right, my champion," Dad beamed. "Let's go."

We hurried out to the parking lot and piled into the car. Dad started the engine and pulled out into the middle of the absolute downpour.

The rain was coming down so hard that you could barely see the road, but even so, Dad didn't slow down. The asphalt was slick, and with every slight skid the car made, my heart leaped into my throat. Suddenly, a truck appeared out of the blinding rain, barreling toward us at full speed, completely out of control. It spun across the road, hurtling right at us. Dad panicked, wrenching the steering wheel to swerve, but he wasn't fast enough. A blinding flash of light pierced my eyes, and the very last thing I saw was my brother looking at me, his face twisted in absolute terror...