Word of Honor

Chapter One: Retrospect

There is a phrase that I had been forbidden to say. Honestly, every word contains foreboding and exaggeration. It all began at home, when my stomach growled and roared, reminding myself frantically that I had a lack of food and had to be fed this instant. Closing my eyes, the image of a fluffy baked brownie appeared in my sight.

"Mom, I'm starving!" I tell Mom I had an urgent need, or craving for food when I was younger.

Indeedly, I was clumsy before. Mom reminded me quite a few times of the necessity to talk my whole mind out with everyone I had met. That was false by now.

Mom raises her eyebrows after the statement. She has responded to me, that I will never, ever starve as long as I am on Mom's watch, and now I am hungry. I abandoned the phrase "I'm starving!" ever since. And, of course, it is very unlikely to happen. Mom is very particular in words.

"How come you and Dad never answer my questions about work? Is that so mysterious that you won't even dare to sort it out with your daughter? We scarcely shared our weekdays with each other! Please." I tell my parents out of rage, fighting to overcome the rising temper inside of me.

"Oh dear," Mom begins. "We'd love to tell you if we could and share feelings as a parent-child interaction, however, I reckon it's quite more complicated than you think..."

Subconsciously, I purse my lips in exasperation. Why would they not speak up so I could understand what is complicated? It would not hurt to talk about merely work, which is not a huge deal!

"A private matter between your mother and I won't be told." chime in Dad's voice, answering my question apace, as though reading my mind.

"I-I..." I stutter.

No word could describe how irritated I am at this moment. I long for divulging their complex work, nevertheless, it is excessively difficult for me to be aware of. However, I would never attain what exactly is complicated. Terms are spinning in my head apace, and I stood there, zoning out.

This conversation made me immensely inquisitive about what they concentrate on in the daytime. How do they strive for money exactly? They always wore darkening colors for work: Mom always wore her pearl mouse gray coat while Dad brought his sapphire blue zipping jacket.

"Mom, you aren't setting off to work if you don't tell me where!" I say with a teasing tone, blocking their path.

But Mom merely looked at me with a determined glance and said no more.

"Charmi, now's not the time to joke around." Dad says firmly and seriously with his brows furrowed into a straight line.

"What's the matter? Why so earnest all of a sudden? Didn't we have a good time at breakfast earlier?" I ask, clenching my sleeves.

"Charmi." Mom inclines her head with inflated alertness. "This is work we're talking about, not some warm family greeting."

Stunned, I pace back, offering my parents a clear way to the door.

I did not admit it when I recognized their extreme seriousness. I had never seen them so grim and stoned besides weekday mornings, as though I am a stranger to them and irrelevant to be weighed in heart. It looks as though they are about to use ferocity as revenge, and I had nevermore seen them with such fury in their gaze. They hardly ever even scolded me when I had done something that would one hundred percent get on their nerves, and they are the most hilarious people I had ever met. I would be glad if someone could explain the odd things happening to my parents. What could possibly trigger my parents so outgoing into such somber, heartless mortals?

Other than my cherished parents, my older brother is also worth mentioning. He went to England for college, currently far away from where we are. I do not expect myself to miss him so much. And this is unacceptable for the fact I never wished to have him by my side irritating me day to night.