This afternoon, out of nowhere, my father turned my room upside down. He even pulled out my Mac Mini which had no internet. He was convinced I was hiding a secret phone. Spoiler alert: I don’t have one, never did. He went as far as frisking my pockets. He didn’t find anything.
This isn’t just random parental paranoia, though. My parents have been deep into following this so-called guru’s advice, and it’s been driving some pretty wild decisions. Apparently, this guru has them convinced that someone’s put black magic on me. Yeah, you read that right – black magic. According to him, I’ve got a “bad character” (ouch) and I am doomed to a lifetime of relationship drama. It’s the kind of thing that makes you want to roll your eyes so hard they get stuck.
It doesn’t stop there. My mother’s been roped into these rituals too. Now, she’s asking me to stare into a bowl every morning. Don’t ask me why, I’m still trying to figure that one out. She makes me wear an opal pendant for some bizarre reason. And get this, she used to sneak a little bit of milk into my bathwater because, you guessed it, another guru’s orders. I’m just waiting for the day they tell me to chant something while standing on one leg to ward off evil spirits.
