When my parents demanded rent for the basement I had turned into a refuge, little did they know it would lead to my escape and their lasting regret.
I had always felt like the black sheep of my family. But it wasn’t just a feeling. It was pretty obvious when you saw how differently my parents treated me and my younger brother Daniel.
When I was 17, we moved into a two-bedroom house and my parents decided that Daniel needed his own room, so instead of sharing it like normal siblings, they put me in our unfinished basement.
A basement | Source: Unsplash
He got a huge, bright room upstairs, complete with brand new furniture, decorations, and even a games console. I got whatever they could scrape together from the garage.
I remember the day they showed me my new “room”.
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My mother gestured around the cold concrete room as if it were some kind of prize. “Elena, honey, isn’t this exciting? You’ll have so much space down here!”
Smiling middle-aged woman | Source: Pexels
I stared at the bare lightbulb dangling from the ceiling, the cobwebs in the corners, and the musty smell that clung to everything. “Yes, Mom. Super exciting.”
Dad patted me on the shoulder. “That’s the right attitude, kid! And hey, maybe we can spruce it up a bit later, hm?”
Of course there was no later. But I didn’t want to live in a dungeon forever.
A teenage girl in a dark basement | Source: Midjourney
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I worked after school at the local supermarket bagging groceries and pushing shopping carts. It wasn’t exactly glamorous, but each paycheck brought me closer to transforming my basement prison.
My Aunt Teresa was my savior in times of need. She was the only one who knew what my life was like at home.
When she heard what I was planning to do with the basement, she started coming over on weekends, armed with paintbrushes and infectious enthusiasm.
A woman painting a wall | Source: Pexels
“All right, Ellie-girl,” she said, tying back her wild curls. “Let’s make the house shine!”
We started with paint, transforming the dingy walls into a soft lavender. Then came curtains to cover the tiny windows, rugs to cover the cold floor, and fairy lights to chase away the shadows.
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It took months because my job didn’t pay much, but slowly the basement became my home. I hung posters of my favorite bands, organized my books on old shelves, and even managed to get a used desk for homework.
Posters on the wall | Source: Pexels
The day I added the finishing touch, an LED light around my bed, I stood back and felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time, maybe my entire life: pride.
I was just admiring my work when I heard footsteps on the stairs. Mom and Dad appeared and looked around with raised eyebrows.
“Look, look,” Dad said, narrowing his eyes. “Looks like someone’s been busy.”
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A man with his arms crossed and a tense expression | Source: Pexels
I waited for praise or at least recognition for my hard work. Instead, Mom pursed her lips.
“Elena, if you have the money for all this,” she waved her hand at my carefully arranged space, “then you can start contributing something to the household.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
“Yeah,” Dad nodded. “We think it’s time you started paying rent.”
A man’s hand | Source: Pexels
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I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Rent? I’m 17! I’m still in high school!”
“And you obviously make enough to renovate,” Mom countered, folding her arms. “It’s time you learned to be financially responsible.”
I wanted to scream. Daniel had a room three times the size of mine, completely furnished and decorated at her expense, and he had never worked in his life. Yes, he was younger, but still, this was another of her injustices.
A large modern bedroom | Source: Pexels
Unfortunately, I knew I couldn’t argue with them, so I bit my tongue. “Fine,” I said. “How much?”
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They quoted a sum that made my stomach turn. It was doable, but it meant I had to give up any hope of saving for college, which I had planned to do after the basement was finished.
As if things were even worse, Daniel thundered down the stairs at that moment. He looked around briefly and let out a low whistle.
Teenager goes down the stairs to the basement | Source: Midjourney
“Wow, sis. Nice cave.” His eyes landed on my LED lights. “Hey, are they strong?”
Before I could stop him, he reached up and pulled on the molding. The lights went out with a sad flicker, leaving a trail of peeling paint behind.
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“Daniel!” I shouted. But my parents rushed to him, asked if something was wrong, and just shrugged their shoulders.
“That’s just how boys are,” Dad giggled, as if his golden boy hadn’t just destroyed something I’d worked for months.
A middle-aged man laughing | Source: Pexels
So there I stood in my once again darkened room, fighting back tears of frustration. All Daniel had done was ruin my lights, and I could fix that. But in truth, it was more than that.
It was a symbol of my life; always second best, always coming up short. But karma, as they say, evens things out.
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A few weeks later, my parents invited Aunt Teresa and some friends over for dinner. She brought a woman named Ava, an interior designer from her book club.
Two women having dinner | Source: Pexels
We all sat at the dinner table and devoured Mom’s overcooked pot roast while she raved about Daniel and his soccer team.
But suddenly Aunt Teresa spoke up. “Ava, you have to see what my niece has done with the basement. It’s unbelievable!”
I felt my cheeks heat up as all eyes turned to me. “It’s no big deal,” I muttered.
But Ava was intrigued. “I’d like to see it. Do you mind?”
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A smiling woman | Source: Pexels
Ignoring my parents’ stern smiles, I led Ava down the stairs. As she looked around, her eyes widened.
“Elena, this is incredible. Did you do all this yourself?”
I nodded, suddenly shy. “Most of it. My aunt helped with some of the bigger things.”
Ava ran her hand over the repurposed bookcase I rescued from a neighbor’s curb. “You have a good eye for design. There wasn’t a lot of potential here, but the way you utilized the space, the color choices… this is really impressive.”
A bookshelf | Source: Pexels
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For the first time in a long time, I felt a spark of hope. “Really?”
She nodded and smiled. “An internship just opened up at my company. Usually it’s for students, but… I think we could make an exception for a high school student who’s about to go to college. Are you interested in design as a potential career?”
I had to stop my jaw from dropping as I tried to speak. “Absolutely! I mean, I never really considered it as a career, but I love it.”
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
Ava smiled. “Well, think about it now. The internship is paid, and if you do a good job, you might be able to get a scholarship from the company to study design. What do you say?”
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I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Yes! A thousand times yes! Thank you very much!”
“Excellent! You can start right away. I’ll call you later for the details,” Ava nodded and walked past my parents up the stairs.
A nice woman smiling | Source: Pexels
I hadn’t even noticed that they had followed us downstairs. Their faces were stunned, and my brother looked confused because for once someone else was in the spotlight.
This internship changed everything. Suddenly I had a direction, a goal and, most importantly, people who valued me and wanted me to succeed.
So I threw myself into learning everything I could about design, stayed at the company for a long time and soaked up the knowledge like a sponge.
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A teenage girl works in an office | Source: Midjourney
For the next few months, I juggled school, my internship, and my part-time job at the grocery store. It was exhausting, but exciting.
At home, everything was… different. My parents seemed unsure how to treat me now. They no longer asked for rent. Instead, they asked me about my “little job.”
“So, how’s the designer thing going?” Dad asked at dinner, but he avoided my gaze.
Middle-aged man looking down | Source: Pexels
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“It’s great,” I replied, trying not to smile. My joy was not theirs. “I’m learning so much.”
Daniel, for his part, seemed confused. “I don’t understand,” he complained one day. “Why does Elena get an internship and I don’t?”
Mom patted his hand. “Well, honey, that’s because you’re still young. You’ll get an even better one later.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course they had to appease the darling.
A teenage girl at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney
As the school year progressed, I began putting together my portfolio for college applications. Ava was an incredible mentor, guiding me through the process and helping me select my best work.
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“You have real talent, Elena,” she told me one afternoon in her office after work. She had kindly stayed behind so I could finish my plans. “The schools are lucky to have you.”
Her words gave me the confidence to aim high and I applied to some of the best design programs in the country, including Ava’s alma mater.
A young woman writes in a notebook | Source: Pexels
After that, the wait was torture, but finally the time had come. I was in the basement painting my bookshelf when I heard my mother calling.
“Elena? Here’s a big envelope for you.”
I took the stairs two at a time and snatched the envelope from her hands. “Dear Elena, we are delighted to offer you admission to our school of design…” My knees went weak, but it got even better!
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A large envelope | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t believe it. Not only had I been accepted, but I had received a full scholarship to the school Ava attended.
“So?” Mom asked, smiling at me. “What does it say?”
“I got accepted. I have a full scholarship,” I said, looking up as my eyes watered.
There was silence for a moment. Then she went back upstairs. She didn’t even manage to say a small congratulation.
A serious older woman | Source: Pexels
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My father didn’t say anything at dinner, and Daniel was kind of angry.
I could feel her bitterness. But I didn’t care. I finally had what I wanted. Ava threw a little party for me at the office and Aunt Teresa threw a big party. That was all I needed.
The next room I decorated was my dorm room… then I redecorated my whole life, with colors that glowed like my soul, with patterns that made the world unique, and with the family I met along the way who supported me like a beautiful, cozy bed frame that lasts for decades.
A happy teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
Click here to read another story: When Jason’s phone rings in the middle of the night, he finds his daughter crying. During the conversation, he learns that her landlord wants to force her out of her apartment. Jason decides to teach the landlord a lesson…
This work is inspired by real events and characters, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims as to the accuracy of events or portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided as is and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.