Sunflower Vol.6 [H.S]

forty five

"I called him."
Marina Young's POV

       "Harry." The name rings in my ears, the five lettered word rolling off my tongue and being said aloud. It still causes a wince to come from my angel, the metaphorical saint sits on my left shoulder. "Hi." I told him. I swallow down the despondency that threatens to spill out. "Marina?" She says, my vision goes back up to Pepper who sits in front of me. The same setting as it always is on a Thursday evening. "Did you hear what I asked you?" She asks kindly.

I take a deep breath, shaking my head. "I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't hear you." I tell her and she nods, Pepper shifts in her seat a little while she continues to keep her stare on me.

"Forgive me if I'm reading this incorrectly," She begins. "But you seem very distant today." Pepper states. "There is a sadness that looms over you." She adds and I smile disappointedly.

"I wouldn't say you're wrong." I confess and she doesn't answer back right away. The silence marinates in the air a little while longer before words stitch within the atmosphere of the room.

"Marina when was the last time you spoke to your parents?" She suddenly questions me.

It causes me to furrow my brows as I cross my arms, a shrug follows. "I don't know." I murmur. "Maybe about .. about like six years ago." While I answer that, the image of Christmas Day plays along in quiet sequences. The faces of displeasure from my confessions and their screams are not audible, but I still hear it become repeated in a whisper. "Why does that matter?" I ask.

"Just a question." She tells me, I nod. "Do you think you'd ever want to speak to them again?" She adds on, I become uncomfortable by the question. "Your mother or your father?" She says.

"I think the question should be do they ever want to speak to me again?" I substitute.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because ... because like .. they're like my parents. I don't think that a child should be asked if they ever want to speak their mother and father ever again .. To me it's just a, just a very obvious answer." I explain, stumbling over my words. It has always felt dangerous to be vulnerable about them, despite the disconnect from them over the years. When I look at Pepper she nods.

"But that could go both ways." She tells me. "To others it might be just as obvious that parents would want their child to speak them again." Pepper challenges and I agree in some way.

"Yes." I answer. "But what is it like when the last thing your mother said to you was that if you went through with your dreams, you would be dead to her?" I bring up. "Does that make it so obvious?" I question and she shakes her head. "If you want the truth to the first part of this ... I think my father would be willing to reach out." I admit and feel my breaths become shorter.  "And as for my mother, no, I don't think she would be willing to talk to me again."