3
My soul floated in mid–air, watching Dad comforting Mom in front of the ER. “Lily is a very sensible child; once she wakes up, I’ll make sure she apologizes to you.”
Mom sighed. “I even quit my job for her studies. If she were really sensible, she wouldn’t have thrown a tantrum and jumped! Finals are in a few days; what if this delays her exams?!”
My gaze darkened.
I had fallen from the fourth floor, covered in blood and barely alive when the ambulance arrived. Yet, Mom’s mind was
still on the finals, still on my studies.
I once asked Mom what would happen if I didn’t get into college. Mom reacted as if I’d stepped on her tail, instantly snapping, “If you don’t get into college, your life is over!”
“Your cousin got into Harvard this year. I’m not asking you to get into Harvard, but at least a top–tier university, right? Otherwise, I won’t be able to hold my head up in front of our relatives!”
Originally, I wanted to tell Mom that I was drawing commissions online, earning my first real money. I wanted to tell her that I loved drawing and asked if I could have an hour a week to draw freely. But seeing Mom’s distorted face, I swallowed
all my words.
Late one night, I went to the bathroom and heard Mom and Dad arguing.
“Lily’s art teacher called me, saying Lily loves drawing and since her grades are poor, she could try the art pathway.”
“Her teacher is such an idiot, actually suggesting that because Lily’s struggling with academics, we should respect her hobbies–how utterly foolish and laughable!”
6:36 AM
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.
Her teacner is such an idiot, actually suggesting that because Lily’s struggling with academics, we snouia respect ner
hobbies–how utterly foolish and laughable!”
“Lily is my child! I’m so smart, my child can’t possibly dislike studying!”
Listening to Mom’s words, tears streamed down my face.
Mom had never truly cared about what I liked. She simply imposed her own ideas on me. Mom loved spicy food, and even though I hated it, every meal had to be spicy, just the way Mom liked it. Mom was afraid of the cold, and even when I was sweltering in summer, the living room air conditioning was never allowed to be turned on. Mom had changed her destiny through studying when she was young, and even though I loved drawing, she had to stifle my natural talent.
Mom had never respected my opinions. She treated me as an extension of herself, an object to carry her hopes. My thoughts were irrelevant.
The next day, Mom dragged me out of bed. My art supplies spilled across the floor. And all the drawings I’d done were torn to shreds by Mom.
A fierce impact rushed through me, and I felt a sweet, metallic taste in my throat. Overwhelmed by anger, I actually coughed up blood. As my consciousness faded, I heard Mom yell, “Lily, are you trying to kill me with anger?!”
When I woke up again, I heard Mom talking to Dad.
“I only said a few words to her, and she coughed up blood and fainted. Can you blame me for that?”
“She’s so delicate now, what will she do in the future?!”
Dad gave Mom a meaningful look. “Lower your voice, Lily’s awake.”
Seeing me awake, Mom immediately started pounding her chest and stamping her feet. It seemed she wanted to make me feel guilty; she pounded her chest with a dull thud.
“Oh, the misery! My child doesn’t listen, doesn’t study. What’s the point of me living?!”
Dad played along. “Lily, look how much you’ve upset your mom!”
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My whole body ached. When I spoke, my throat felt like it was lined with razor blades. “I’m sorry”
Mom paused.
My smile was tinged with sorrow.
