Wallflower [H.S.]

chapter one

        There comes a point in life where you become completely and utterly numb. You become so tired and restless with your own life that you completely give up. Each day is like a sad supercut of moments that seem to be repeating themselves. Wake up, stare out the window, maybe walk the dog, maybe go for a drive, stare out the window again, eat, go to sleep, and repeat. Some days I cannot even look in the mirror and I begin to blame myself for the tragedies. There are times when I think that no one could hate me more than I hate myself.

Maybe my parents. With their strict and controlling ways, it is hard to see any glimmer of affection from the two. What I once saw as a normal suburban family, has turned into a nightmare. As a nineteen-year-old woman just getting a taste of what life is like, I can barely even get a start without them breathing down my neck. My hopes and dreams in life are nothing but a fairytale to them.

I have been mentally preparing for this day since I entered high school four years ago. The day that I would have to tell my parents my plans for my future. Though it was my future, they made most of the calls, so this would be anything but easy. As my senior year came to a close, the dawning question that everyone seemed to be dying to know is what I was going to do with my life. To be quite honest, I have no fucking idea. All I know is what I don't want, and that is to go headfirst into school at a prestigious university only my parents' money could buy. With my father being the highest-paid surgeon in the state of Arizona and my mother being a travel nurse, it does not come as a shock that they wish for me to come something just like them.

Most people my age are having the time of their lives and figuring out who they are with the freedom of being out of school and in the real world. I blame my parents for how lost I feel. My entire life has been theirs. So much so that I don't even know who I am, only what I am not. Grades and extracurriculars came first, always. In my nineteen years of life, the only parties I've ever attended have been held at the country club my family is a part of and I have never seen drugs or alcohol since my mother says they are the closest thing to the devil. I understood the reasoning behind their strict rules because I know they only wanted me to succeed, but they are so consumed by physical health in their professions, I think they skipped over the mental health topic as a whole. Especially when it came to my mental health.

"Ashton!" The sudden echo of my mother's voice startles me. Immediately, I jump up from my seat on my bed and head towards her.

"Yes, ma'am?" I respond respectfully.

The first lesson I was taught as a child was to be respectful. My father would preach that if you want anything in the world, especially from your parents, you must first show respect. I peer down over the banister that overviews the large living room as she stood with her hands on her hips, glaring up at me. Never a good sight.

"Come down here and help me set the table before your father gets home." She demands. Without hesitation, I continue my walk down the staircase. "And have you spoke to your brother?"