"I have made up my mind now. I'm not going to back off, no matter what."
Ravin stood in the middle of his room,
his voice low but firm.
The words felt heavy, but once they left his mouth, there was no taking them back.
He picked up his school bag and placed it on the bed.
One by one, he removed the books from inside it and set them aside.
"I need some clothes… some snacks… and some money for now," he murmured to himself.
He folded a few shirts and pushed them into the bag. After that, he searched through his drawer for whatever little money he had and slipped it into the side pocket.
When he was done, Ravin zipped the bag and sat quietly on the edge of the bed.
"I'm leaving this house now."
He whispered those words while staring at the ceiling of his room, as if waiting for the walls themselves to stop him.
But nothing happened.
The room remained silent.
He took a deep breath, slung the bag over his shoulder, and walked toward the stairs.
After coming downstairs, Ravin saw his mother sitting on her bed, scrolling through her phone as if the night was just another ordinary night.
He stood there for a moment, unsure how to begin.
"Mom… I want to talk about something."
His voice came out quieter than he expected.
Even while saying it, he couldn't make eye contact with her.
Though he had already decided to leave the house, he still wasn't ready to face her.
She looked up from her phone.
"Why are you still awake?" she asked.
"And where are you going with your bag at this time?"
For some reason, Ravin's eyes felt numb. Seeing a hint of worry on her face made his chest tighten.
But he had already made his decision.
Still… a small part of him hoped there might be a chance.
"Mom… can we please shift to another city and start a new life there?" he said quietly. "I beg you."
She frowned immediately.
"You're still on that?" she said with irritation. "You dummy. I already told you—we're not leaving this house. Don't you understand?"
The words landed like a wall in front of him.
Ravin lowered his head.
A quiet sadness settled on his face.
"So… it didn't work," he whispered. "Anyways."
Then he slowly looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time. Tears had begun forming in his own.
"Okay, Mom," he said softly. "I guess we can't live in the same house anymore."
He swallowed hard before continuing.
"Maybe I wasn't the kind of son you wanted… or maybe you weren't the mother I wanted. I guess we both don't want each other."
The words felt like stones stuck in his throat.
Every word he spoke wasn't just a word.
It was a decision.
"Is that your decision?"
His mother asked the question with a completely emotionless face.
"Y-yes," Ravin replied. "This is the decision I've made."
She leaned back slightly.
"Fine then," she said calmly. "Everyone in this house has been a gambler."
"We all gambled something."
"If you talk about your father, he gambled all his money."
"And if you talk about me… I gambled my respect."
She paused for a moment, her eyes resting on Ravin.
"Looks like you're about to place your own gamble now."
Ravin felt chills run through his veins when he heard those words.
He didn't know how to reply.
"So tell me, son," she continued, "what are you going to gamble?"
Ravin stood there in silence.
He had never expected his mother to react like this.
It felt as if she didn't care at all… as if his existence meant nothing to her.
"Say it quickly," she added casually.
"I need to sleep early today."
Ravin's face remained blank.
"I don't know," he said.
His mother shrugged slightly.
"Then tell me when you return," she said. "I'm curious to know what you're going to gamble."
"I'm leaving."
Ravin said it quietly before turning around.
He didn't wait for a reply.
"Make sure you return," his mother said calmly behind him. "I'm curious to hear the answer."
Those were the last words he heard from her.
So this is how it ends, Ravin thought.
Outside, the cold night air hit his face.
Snow had begun settling on the ground.
Ravin walked toward his bicycle, the one he had used almost every day since childhood.
A thin layer of snow had gathered on the seat.
He brushed it away with his hand.
For a moment, he turned around and looked at the house.
Maybe…
Just maybe…
His mother would come outside and stop him.
But the door remained closed.
No footsteps.
No voice calling his name.
Nothing.
"So… she didn't come," Ravin whispered to himself.
He sat on the bicycle and slowly began pedaling.
The cold wind brushed against his face as he moved through the silent streets.
On the night of Christmas Eve, Ravin left the house.
And rode down a path where he would soon lose himself.