Raised To Be Flawless by Khamila at Inkitt

Summary

Mila menutup buku kuliahnya tepat pukul 22.07. Kelas malam selalu berakhir molor, seperti hidupnya yang tak pernah benar-benar berhenti. Ia menyimpan pulpen sejajar dengan tepi buku, memasukkannya ke tas, lalu berdiri tanpa tergesa. Sejak pukul delapan pagi ia sudah berada di toko. Mengawasi produksi, memastikan pesanan tepat waktu, memperbaiki kesalahan karyawan sebelum pelanggan sempat menyadarinya. Kadang lembur ketika pesanan menumpuk. Kadang tidak makan. Tapi semua itu tidak pernah dianggap sesuatu yang layak dibicarakan. Jam di ponselnya menunjukkan 22.41 saat ia membuka pintu rumah. Lampu ruang makan masih menyala. Ibunya menatapnya sekilas. "Kerja seharian, lalu kuliah malam," katanya. "Kamu tidak capek?" Mila tidak menjawab. Ia hanya menarik kursi dan duduk, merapikan sendok dan garpu agar sejajar dengan garis meja. Gerakan kecil yang biasa ia lakukan saat kata-kata terasa terlalu berisiko untuk dikeluarkan. Ibunya mendengus pelan. "Capek atau tidak itu urusan kamu. Kerja kalau tidak ada hasilnya ya percuma," katanya. "Mending cari kerja yang pasti-pasti saja. Jangan sok kuat, tapi hidup tetap segitu." Mila menunduk. Rahangnya mengeras, tapi ia tetap diam. "Capek itu bukan prestasi," lanjut ibunya, kini dengan nada seolah menasihati. "Kalau kamu benar-benar serius, seharusnya sudah kelihatan hasilnya. Jangan cuma sibuk."

Genre: Scifi

Author: Khamila

Status: Ongoing

Chapters: 2

Rating: n/a

Age Rating: 16+

Raised to Be Flawless

Mila grew up in a family that believed children were investments, not individuals.

As the youngest, she never experienced her parents’ years of success. What remained were demands, constant comparisons, and a manipulative mother who was never satisfied.

Without a university degree, Mila built her career from nothing. From a social media admin to a pastry shop manager, every step she achieved through one rule: leaving no room for failure. Perfectionism became both her shield and her prison.

During the day, she endured the pressure of work.

At night, she attended college paid for with her own hard-earned money.

At home, she was still expected to give, even when she was almost empty herself.

When anger, responsibility, and emotional wounds collided, Mila began to question

Mila closed her textbook at exactly 10:07 p.m.

Night classes always ran late, much like her life, which never truly came to a stop. She placed her pen neatly along the edge of the book, slipped it into her bag, and stood up without rushing.

She had been at the shop since eight in the morning.

Supervising production, making sure orders went out on time, fixing employees’ mistakes before customers ever noticed. Sometimes she worked overtime when orders piled up. Sometimes she didn’t eat. None of it was ever considered worth mentioning.

Her phone read 10:41 p.m. when she opened the front door of the house.

The dining room light was still on.

Her mother glanced at her briefly.

“Working all day and going to night classes,” she said. “Aren’t you tired?”

Mila didn’t answer.

She pulled out a chair and sat down, aligning the spoon and fork with the edge of the table. A small habit one she relied on when words felt too dangerous to release.

Her mother let out a soft scoff.

“Whether you’re tired or not, that’s your problem. Working without results is pointless,” she said. “You should find a stable job. Don’t pretend to be strong when your life isn’t going anywhere.”

Mila lowered her gaze. Her jaw tightened, but she remained silent.

“Being tired isn’t an achievement,” her mother continued, now using a tone that sounded almost like advice. “If you were truly serious, the results would be visible by now. Don’t just stay busy.”