‘If my head is the price to pay for achieving my goal, then I’m willing to pay it!’ I jump up. This conversation is useless, like I knew it would be.

I turn on my heel and march out.

Mother is standing outside. She must have heard our heated exchange. Tears are streaming down her pale cheeks. The look on her face makes me stumble. I see the dark foreboding in her eyes, as if she knows beforehand that my venture is doomed. She covers her mouth with a corner of her blue scarf. Her long thin fingers are trembling slightly. I’ve got those fingers from her. I’ve got my very life from her. And now I’m causing her pain. She doesn’t say anything, but I’d rather she scolded me. This silent anguish makes my own heart break.

‘Forgive me, mother,’ I whisper, lowering my eyes. ‘Forgive me, mother, but I have no choice. I must stand up for what I believe in. And I believe that we’re all human and deserve to be treated like humans, not like dogs. Even dogs should be treated kindly, so how much more kindness should we show to people?’

I look up and see father standing in the doorway. He frowns in concern when he sees that mother is crying. Then he looks at me. His broad shoulders are now slumped; the head, usually held high, is down. For the first time in my life I realise that there are wrinkles of worry around his eyes and silver threads in his dark hair

In a split second something shifts inside me, and I suddenly see things with different eyes.

My parents used to protect and comfort me. They were the all-knowing and all-powerful beings in my life. But not anymore. Now I have to follow my own path, and my parents are powerless to either stop me or help me. It is my path, and I have to walk it, wherever it leads me. My cup is filled, and I must drink it.

I have no other choice.

I hold father’s gaze and speak slowly, hoping that he will finally get my point:

‘Yes, people are different, but everyone’s blood is red!’