Weightless

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Jisu Collins

        The persistent screeching of an alarm rouses me from sleep. No dreams again, but I guess that's fitting considering there's nothing worthwhile in reality for my subconscious to build from. After graduating college, with nowhere else to go and no concrete plan for the future, I returned home. Back to Berthoud. Back to being the only spot of yellow on a blank sheet of paper.

         My parents were accepting, happy even, to have their only daughter back at home. I continuously tell them that this is only temporary, but I think they're hoping I stay for good. Not necessarily in their house, but in Berthoud, living close enough that they can "support me." At least, that's what they tell me. 

         Honestly, I'm willing to bet that they just want to keep an eye on me. They feel more comfortable having me at arm's length.

        It's always been like this. I wouldn't say my parents are controlling, just somewhat overbearing; they like to be part of everything, and growing up, it became very frustrating. In a city where I was biologically forced to be an individual, having parents that are trying to impose on everything resulted in a fairly strained family relationship.

        Yes, the bond between me and my parents is less than perfect. From the outside looking in, you might assume we were acquaintances at best, but at the end of the day, they're still the people who raised me, so a certain level of affection is still present. More so directed at me than coming from me, but still.

        "Jisu! Breakfast!"

        Eyes directed at the ceiling, I exhale sharply. Time to start another day Jisu. Just keep swimming. With the inspiring words of a little blue fish running through my head, I roll out of bed and trudge my way to the bathroom to wash my face. I glance up.

        "Damn Jisu. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Dark brown, almost black almond eyes stare back. There are slight bags underneath them, accentuating my pale skin and dark unruly hair. I sigh. My reflection sighs back. Slapping my cheeks in an attempt to bring color to my face, I slip on my glasses and head downstairs.

        "Morning sweetie. How'd you sleep?"

        Turning towards my mom, I smile. At least I try; it probably looks more like a grimace. "I slept well, Mom. Thanks for breakfast." She nods, sets a plate in front of me, and returns to the kitchen. Pancakes again. Same breakfast. Same boring morning. Same boring life. I sigh. It seems like I've been doing that a lot lately.

        "What's wrong, honey? Don't you love pancakes?"

        I stop fiddling with my breakfast at the sound of my father's voice. "Oh... ah... yeah. Yeah, I do. I guess I'm just not that hungry this morning."

        "Are you alright sweetie? Are you not feeling well?" My mother asks as she comes out of the kitchen. I brush aside her hand as she reaches to touch my forehead.

        "I'm alright. Just not hungry. Ah... thanks for breakfast." I return my gaze to my now soggy pancakes. The sight nauseates me. Picking up the plate, I dump the contents into the trash and set it into the dishwasher. "I'm going to go back upstairs, work on some things."

        I feel more than see the concerned looks my parents shoot each other, and walk up the stairs, worried eyes burning holes in my back. Softly shutting my bedroom door, I collapse into my desk chair. "Well Jisu, might as well only make it a half lie and try to get something productive done." Pulling up my hair and adjusting my glasses, I open my sketchbook and continue working on my most recent character design.

        I majored in computer science during college in the hopes of eventually becoming a game designer. I always loved video games, the graphics, the plot, the characters, but most importantly, the way they could transport you to an alternate reality. When I was playing, I wasn't "the Asian girl who sat in the back of the class," I was just me, existing in a place where my eye shape didn't matter. So when I found out I had an aptitude for art in middle school, game design literally became my entire life. The only problem being that most of the top developers are located everywhere but here. The majority of them are in Asia, and there's no way I could ever go ther... wait. Why not? Who's going to stop me? Sketchbook forgotten, I open a new tab on my laptop. Looks like those Korean classes weren't a waste of time after all.

~ ~ ~

        My eyes snap open before my alarm can even think about ringing. Throwing off my duvet, I launch myself out of bed and towards the bathroom. No Nemo today.

        Maybe it's a trick of the light, but my face looks less haggard in the mirror this morning. Unfortunately, my wild mane of bed head remains a constant. With a shrug I head towards the stairs; it's not like tamed hair is going to make any difference when I tell them.

        After the failed attempt that was breakfast yesterday, I came to a conclusion. Well, several conclusions actually. One: I'm moving to South Korea. No exceptions. Two: No one, not even my parents, can stop me. And three: Regardless of the outcome, the uncertainties, the unknowns, or the "what ifs," I'm not going to waste another minute here.

        My feet hesitate on the landing. I take a deep breath. It's now or never Jisu. Time to break free. I step into the kitchen.

        "Mom, dad... we need to talk."

~ ~ ~

Until next time^^