Chapter 2: The Teen Wall.

Ryan was now thirteen. His voice was changing. His shoes were bigger. His thoughts were deeper. He still lived in Fresno, California, in the same house with the red flowers and the soft sunlight. But the air inside the house was no longer light. It felt… heavier.

He didn’t run to hug his mom after school anymore. He went straight to his room. He didn’t laugh at his dad’s jokes. He rolled his eyes instead. He no longer wanted bedtime stories or walks in the park. He wanted silence, music, and space.

His parents noticed.

One evening, his father called, “Ryan, come help me with the car.”

“I’m busy,” Ryan replied.

“You’re just on your phone,” his father said, softly.

“I said I’m busy!” Ryan shouted, and slammed the door.

Inside, his mother closed her eyes. She didn’t say anything. She just folded the laundry slowly.

Ryan was changing.

At school, Ryan made new friends. Most of them were older. Some were loud, some were quiet. But all of them laughed at teachers, skipped homework, and made fun of their parents. Ryan joined them. He laughed too. He felt grown-up.

One of the boys, Jason, had a bike. He said, “Let’s go for a ride downtown.”

“It’s too far,” Ryan said. “And I didn’t tell my parents.”

Jason smirked. “Don’t be a baby. You’re not five.”

Ryan paused. His parents had always told him, “Don’t go far without telling us.”

But today, he wanted to look brave. He climbed on the bike and left.

They reached a crowded street. Loud music played. Big cars passed by. Ryan felt excited… until they turned into a narrow road and a car honked loudly from behind. Jason turned fast. Ryan’s foot slipped. He fell. His arm hit the road hard. Pain shot through his body.

Jason laughed. “Get up, man.”

Ryan couldn’t move his arm. A woman from a nearby shop came out and helped him. She called his father from Ryan’s phone. Ten minutes later, Mr. Parker reached the spot. He didn’t shout. He didn’t scold. He just picked Ryan up gently and said, “Let’s go home.”

At the hospital, Ryan’s arm was bandaged. The doctor said, “No school for three days.”

At home, Ryan sat on the sofa. His mother brought him soup. His father brought him books and snacks. Ryan didn’t speak much. He just stared at the wall.

After dinner, his father sat beside him and said, “I told you, always inform us before going far.”

Ryan nodded. “I’m sorry.”

His father didn’t smile. But he placed a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “We are not your enemies, Ryan. We are your parents. There’s a difference.”

Ryan couldn’t sleep that night. He thought about the fall. The pain. The way Jason laughed. And the way his father came — worried but quiet. He remembered his mother’s eyes. They didn’t have anger. Just… hurt.

Next week, school started again. Ryan’s friends talked about a party.

“You’re coming, right?” Jason asked.

“It’s Friday night,” Ryan said. “My parents won’t let me.”

“Just lie,” Jason said. “Say you’re going to John’s house. Easy.”

Ryan hesitated. He wanted to go. He wanted to feel like he belonged.

That night, he told his parents, “John invited me for group study. I’ll be back by 10.”

His mother looked unsure. But his father nodded. “Be careful.”

Ryan left the house and went to the party. Loud music, drinks, smoke — it was too much. He didn’t enjoy it. He sat in a corner, feeling strange.

At 10:30 p.m., his phone rang. It was his mother.

“Where are you?” she asked. “John called. You’re not at his place.”

Ryan went silent. He had no words.

He reached home late. His parents were awake. His mother’s eyes were red. His father didn’t shout. He just said, “We trusted you.”

Ryan felt shame in his chest. It burned. It stayed.

Days passed. The air in the house got colder. Not because of the weather. But because of silence.

Ryan kept trying to look cool outside. But inside, he felt small. His parents were not perfect. But they had never lied to him. Why did he lie to them?

The wall between him and his parents was growing. It was not built of bricks. It was built of silence, lies, and distance.

And Ryan was the one who built it.

🎯 Moral Lesson:
Whenever you ignore your parents and follow wrong advice, life teaches you the hard way. Truth and love live at home — not in lies.