Unspoken bonds, Chapter 5: Breaking Point
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Category: College, Authoritarian
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Ruben arrived at his father's house much later than he should have. As he stepped into the grand, imposing structure, the weight of the night before pressed heavily on his chest. The plans they had made to meet last night were already a failure--he'd missed the agreed time because of train delays. And now, late again, he could already sense his father's irritation.
The sound of his father's voice broke through the stillness, cutting the tension like a blade. "Twice in two days, Ruben. First you miss last night, and now you're late again tonight."
Ruben froze in the doorway. His father's figure emerged from the dimly lit living room, sharp and commanding. His tie loosened but still immaculately dressed, his posture radiating authority.
"I'm sorry," Ruben said, his voice barely above a whisper. "There were delays again yesterday." He glanced down at his wrinkled shirt and damp jeans, aware that his appearance wasn't helping his case.
"Excuses," his father replied flatly, his eyes narrowing. "You had plenty of time to plan for this. It's disrespectful, Ruben."
The words stung, but Ruben knew better than to argue. He nodded silently, looking anywhere but at his father's piercing gaze.
"Look at yourself." He gestured dismissively at Ruben's wrinkled shirt jeans. "Is this how you present yourself? What would your mother have thought, seeing you like this? Behaving like this?"
The mention of his mother hit Ruben like a slap. His chest tightened, and a hot wave of anger surged through him, overwhelming everything else. His father's tone, his words, the judgment--it was too much. It always had been, but this time something snapped.
"You don't get to say that!" Ruben's voice was louder than he intended, raw and trembling with fury. His father raised an eyebrow, taken aback but still composed, which only fueled Ruben's rage.
"You've controlled every part of my life," Ruben continued, his voice cracking. "Every damn part. And I did it. I played your game. But not anymore. I'm done!"
Before his father could respond, Ruben's eyes darted to the ornate Ming vase perched on a side table nearby--a piece his father had always treated like the crown jewel of the house. Without thinking, Ruben lunged for it. Before he could stop himself, he hurled it with all his strength.
The vase shattered on the marble floor, fragments scattering in every direction. The sound was deafening, reverberating through the silent house like a bomb. For a moment, neither of them moved. Ruben's chest heaved as he stared at the shards, his anger leaving him trembling and hollow.
His father's face darkened, a mix of shock and cold fury. "Get out," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "If you can't respect this house or yourself, then leave."
Ruben didn't need to be told twice. Without a word, he stormed out, slamming the heavy front door behind him. He ran down the driveway, his chest heaving, until the iron gate loomed in front of him
He stopped, realizing he had no way to open it. The keypad glowed faintly in the dark on the other side of the gate, mocking him, and he didn't have the remote. Clenching his jaw, he grabbed the bars and began to climb. The metal scraped against his palms. At the top, he swung his legs over, but as he started to drop, his shirt caught on one of the sharp spikes.
The fabric ripped, a jagged tear running down the side, exposing his ribs to the cold air. He tugged himself free, landing heavily on the other side. The shirt hung off him unevenly, one sleeve barely attached, the shredded fabric flapping as he began to run.
He didn't look back. The cold night swallowed him as he disappeared into the dark.