This story was submitted on September 26th 2026 by Cicada33, author of The road to freedom. If you have a story to submit it’s right here !
This story is a series divided into 15 parts:
- Side effects of obedience (part 1)
- Side effects of obedience (part 3)
- Side effects of obedience (part 4)
- Side effects of obedience (part 5)
- Side effects of obedience (part 6)
- Side effects of obedience (part 7)
- Side effects of obedience (part 8)
- Side effects of obedience (part 9)
- Side effects of obedience (part 10)
- Side effects of obedience (part 11)
- Side effects of obedience (part 12)
- Side effects of obedience (part 13)
- Side effects of obedience (part 14)
- Side effects of obedience (part 15)
As I ran out into the fresh evening air, I also inhaled passive cigarette smoke into my lungs with it, causing me to cough loudly. Only then, suffocating, I became aware of where I was.
Crying, I stood on the terrace of my apartment, next to Marta. I felt a momentary shame that I had jumped out so wildly in front of her, but also a panicked fear of returning back to the apartment. I didn’t dare to turn my head towards her, so I just shyly looked down, looking towards the empty street and clutching the cold metal fence with my hands. We stood like that in silence for a whole minute. Marta was lightly smoking her cigarette, and I was trying to control my sobs and calm my breathing. Why am I doing this? Why am I standing here with her instead of just turning around and walking back into the room?
“Tough evening, huh?” Marta broke the silence. I froze. Did she just turn to me? Another brief moment of silence followed.
“Problems with your parents?” Marta continued. “I know it’s not nice to eavesdrop, but these walls are so thin I really had no choice.”
What is she trying to do? She doesn’t think I’m going to share my private problems with her, does she? She shook the ashes into an empty beer can. I was silent.
“Sorry, I forgot,” Martha added calmly, “House rule. No communication, we’re just roommates. I better go back to my room.” With a light movement of her hand, she went to put out the cigarette and go inside.
“No, it’s okay,” I blurted out.
Why did I say that? Maybe because I desperately needed to talk to someone. With anyone who won’t judge me. With someone who can’t hurt me, because I don’t care about his opinion.
I continued, the words coming out on their own: “You don’t need to go, I just needed some fresh air.”
“Relaxed, dear,” she replied quietly. “I know we’re not friends, but if it makes it easier for you, feel free to talk to me.”
I turned my head and looked at her. Her calm face suddenly awakened in me an unexpected feeling of trust, despite the fact that until recently I had considered her hideous. Broken with grief, I spoke.
“My whole life is ruined,” I whispered, tears welling up again, “I ruined everything.”
“Bullshit,” Martha snapped without a second’s hesitation. “Nothing was destroyed.”
“What do you mean it’s not?!” my voice completely broke, “I failed a year! Do you understand what that means in my family? My parents… they are doctors. I was supposed to…”. Why am I telling her all this?
“You were supposed to be their wind up doll,” she interrupted me calmly, not raising her voice at all. She brought the cigarette to her lips again, the red glow illuminating her sharp cheekbones and nose piercing for a second. She drew in the smoke and exhaled it straight into the night air, letting the wind blow it away.
“You’ve dropped a year and so what? The world goes on. You’re still breathing. The only thing that’s actually been destroyed is their fucking illusion of you. And that, my dear, is the best thing that could have happened to you.”
I was horrified. Her words sounded so reckless, so free of all responsibility. Typical of her, I thought, feeling that familiar disdain again. How can someone who spends nights getting drunk and changing partners even understand the gravity of my failure? For her, everything was a joke, everything was “relaxed”. I wanted to turn and run back to my cave, but my legs were too heavy. The desire to share this unbearable pain with someone was stronger than my disgust.
“They invested their whole lives in me,” I said more quietly, “I tried to pay them back, to make them proud of me, but obviously I’m not good enough. I’m obviously a bad person.”
“Oh, my dear, if I know anything, I know how to judge people well,” said Martha, drawing her last smoke. “And you, you’re not bad. You’re just tired.”
How can she know what I’m like when she doesn’t even know me?
“If I’m not a bad person, then why is all this happening to me?!” my voice trembled and tears stung my eyes. “In the last few months, everyone has hurt me. My friend, my boyfriend, my parents… I tried to be the best to them, and they all rejected me!”
“Look at you,” Marta suddenly shot me a look that was incredibly sharp, almost furious. “You’re beautiful, smart, young, and you’ve allowed yourself to languish in a cage. When are you going to realize that you’re not the problem? They’re the fucking problem! They trample you precisely because you’re good, because your obedience feeds their ego. When do you think you’ll breathe and start living for yourself? When you wake up at forty, trapped in someone else’s life that you hate from the bottom of your soul? Is that what you want?”
She pressed the butt against the top of the can, extinguishing it with a low, sharp hiss.
“You can’t have such a bad opinion of yourself. You need to love yourself, Ena. And the best way to learn to love yourself is to just ignore other people and start living your fucking life the way you want to.”
A tectonic disturbance started in my chest. Years of pent-up fear suddenly began to change shape into pure, uncontrollable rage. Anger at my parents who treated me like a project, at my boyfriend who rejected me, at myself for keeping quiet all these years. Martha’s words turned me on, I started to say furiously, quickly and loudly everything that came to my mind and with each spoken word I felt more energetic.
“You’re right,” I said, and this time my voice wasn’t trembling, it was full of anger. “All my life I was good and obedient. I begged for a little attention, tried to please everyone and completely neglected myself!”
“That’s right!” replied Marta, as she slowly took out a new cigarette from the pack and placed it between her lips.
“I’ve had enough of that! I don’t want to be a wind-up doll. I want to be independent, not depend on anyone, I want people to respect me…”
I couldn’t believe what I was saying out loud. I fell silent for a moment to catch my breath. There was a sharp click from Martha’s lighter.
“…I want to change. I want to learn to live life to the fullest! I’ve had enough of this life!”
Marta nodded her head in satisfaction and, in the semi-darkness of the terrace, handed me a pack with a long white cigarette protruding from it. Mechanically, in a pure rush of excitement, adrenaline and mixed emotions, I reached out and pulled it out, holding it awkwardly between the fingertips with my three fingers.
“…I don’t want to fulfill other people’s wishes anymore, I want to…”
Click. Marta’s lighter sounded again, and the flame illuminated the space between us with blue. Only then, under the light of that flame, did I realize what I was actually doing. I averted my eyes, looking at my hand like a live bomb. I looked at Martha.
“What are you doing?!” I asked her.
“I’m sorry,” Marta said with all sincerity, pulling the hand with the lighter back. “I offered you by accident. I forgot you don’t smoke.”
“How dare you?!” I yelled, feeling all my anger suddenly being directed at her. “Me destroying my body with this poison?! What do you really think of me?!”
“I just wanted to help you calm down,” Martha repeated calmly, but I stopped listening to her.
“Should I calm down?!” I hissed through gritted teeth as tears stung my eyes again. “By becoming like you? That’s what you’d like, eh? To drag me down to the bottom, to become a common bum!”
I turned on my heels, slammed the balcony door with all my might and literally ran into the darkness of my room.
I stood in the middle of the room with clenched fists, while the air hissed wildly through my nostrils. I was burning. I was angry at my father and mother who wrote me off with one call, angry at Ethan who threw me away like an old rag, angry at Marta who brazenly exposed my every weakness.
But most of all, I was suffocated by an unbearable, panicky fear of myself.
I stared at my right hand in the semi-darkness. I could still feel that dry, thin paper under my fingertips. What happened to me? Why did I reach out? I, who despised that poison all my life. Me, who has always been an example of self-control and reason. How could my own body disobey and do something so foreign, so disgusting?
I threw myself on the bed dressed, burying my head in the pillow and sobbing.
Who am I really? What is happening to me?
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