Dedicated to everyone who can relate to Padma and Parvati, to everyone who had hidden under the blanket and turn the tv volume at maximum, to those who have been afraid

Warning! This story can be triggering for those who have suffered in the past, witnessing fights within their family and more.

Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition

Round 10

Team: Pride of Portree

CHASER 3: Write about a fight within the family (such as over marriage, finance, property, etc.)

Optional Prompts:

3. (object) blanket
4. (word) objection

11. (object) television

Word count: 1050

Beta: Thank you so so much Sarah, Heather and Oni!

Author's note: A true story written in words, I'm sorry for saddening you again. But I couldn't write anything else after witnessing this. The prompt ...was just for this. And the optional ones...fitted perfectly into reality.

Also, I have not capitalised 'father' because I don't think he deserves it.

Life isn't like television. Life is hard, full of objections and of rejections. Life is beautifully broken. What happened yesterday made me who I am today. From a scared little girl hiding under her blanket to who I am today—a judge. I'm no longer quiet. I put my wit to good use. I speak up clearly and loudly. I don't hide anymore. The blanket is still there but I don't need it. The television is never louder than normal. I am normal.

….

"Objection, your honour!"

...

"Are they fighting again?" That's the question I always have on my mind. I should be used to it, but it always takes me by surprise. I don't know why.

My sister is not here this time. Parvati is the bravest out of us two. She has the courage to listen in when our parents fight. I don't want to hear them. I know it will just make me sadder.

Tonight it's cold, and I bury myself even further under my blanket. It seems silly, but this blanket is like my lifeline. It makes me feel safe. We're approaching Christmas, and even though we're not actually celebrating, it would be nice if we were happy for this period. The majority of my classmates are spending the holidays with their parents and they're happy. My sister was fortunate to be allowed to go spend the night with her friend because they have a project. But she will have to come back. Why can't we be happy?

They're not bad parents. They give us all we need, and they let us go out, but we are always walking on eggshells. You never know when they will start shouting at each other or breaking things, or both...like now.

I wish I couldn't hear them, but no matter how deep I go under my blanket and how high I turn the television volume, I still hear them. It hurts more than I can explain.

It's money again. I always feel guilty about spending it because I know, eventually, there will be a fight. Just like now.

I put my hands on my ears; the television volume is at its maximum, but I can still hear them. Why won't they stop?

Why?

"When will you stop lazing around? Those girls cannot raise themselves, you know! You have to do something! Go somewhere! Work! I don't want to see you anymore!"

"I have a plan!"

"Oh, you have a plan?"

The girl on the television starts singing louder so I can't make out what they're saying anymore.

I hate these moments, and I hate that they pretend it didn't happen. Mum is too forgiving. She shouldn't. I personally think father is a cheating bastard, and I told her so. I gathered my suspicions for a long time before I told her. She knows I am right, but she still goes along with it — who knows why. It's not like we live in the Dark Ages—or even rural India. Wives aren't bound to their husbands like that anymore. This is twenty-first century England! Mum could get away—she could make a life on her own! But still, she stays.

My sister and I would never leave her, but I don't think she realises that soon we will be able to take care of her. I mean, we're going to college, and soon we will be on our own. Instead, she will stay with him. He doesn't do anything. He's just ...there. And shouting and going crazy.

"Cheating? I never cheated."

"Oh, so you don't believe me? You want a divorce? I'm going to give you one!"

I wince when I hear glass shattering. He's broken something again. You know, sometimes I wish I could just shout at them to stop. To say stop to their fights. To say that in this house should be no more shouting and glass breaking.

...

"Objection, your honour!"

...

How ironic is that? I'm going to study law to help people with problems get away from them. But I'll never be able to help us.

Parvati is going into law too. We are twins, and twins usually stay together, but for us...we learned that being together was...more than that. We've supported each other through most of the fights, and together we learned we shouldn't cry. It doesn't define us— we won't be working together afterwards—but she's my best friend and ally, and she will always be. We're trying to be normal.

There's more shouting now, but I can't make out the words. I want to come out of my blanket; I don't want any of them to come to our room and see me under it, especially since I have the television so loud. It will just cause more trouble. They fight a lot lately. If Parvati were here, she would have turned the TV off. But I cannot. I can't do things like that; I'm too afraid. Maybe that's why I want to be a judge. I want to be the one to grant or reject the objection, not to say it. Being a judge is brave too, but not as much as a lawyer. I would get attached to my cases, and if I lost, I'd be hurt just as much. Also, I couldn't defend someone like him, no matter what. Parvati won't either, but she can handle the situation. I cannot.

I am the quiet one who likes to just study and do the things she's supposed to. No rising objections from me. Maybe that's why I got it easier. Parvati was quick to let her displeasure know as years passed and we grew older. I didn't, not until recently, at least. Just a few short months away from university.

"Shut up! SHUT UP!"

My heart skips a beat as I hear the door opening. What if they come here? What if he does? I get out from my blanket and the turn the television off. I get my phone ready to call my sister, but nothing happens. It's quiet. I'm safe this time.

Still, I'm afraid to close my eyes. And when I finally do, I'm not sure what I'll dream of. I'm always too exhausted to remember. But I know I'm always safe in my dreams.

….

"Objection, accepted."