The Thing About Us.

The Thing About Bottling Up

     Once again Mother sobbed.

     "I regret sending you overseas for your study," she growled, "if only I know you will be this disrespectful to me,"

    I clenched my jaw, as she ran out of my room. Never in my life I seen her cry like this because of me. I felt a massive mix of emotions in my chest. Guilt and.. anger? But is this really my fault?

     "That's why, next time just say yes to whatever she says," 

     My sister, who has been in my room as the so-called tragedy happened, finally opened her mouth. Beads of tears started to flow from my eyelids.

     "She is just too used to having me say yes to everything she said, so she can't hear no,"

     "So what? Just say yes in front of her first, even if you don't do it, she wouldn't know,"

     I couldn't deny that. 

     "True," I whispered.

     "Yeah, it's not like she will be checking on you all the time once you are married,"

     I glanced at her, sighing, "I am just sick with her drama, you know,"

     "I know, still you need to know how to handle it without stressing yourself out, right?"

     I threw my head backwards and laid on the cold floor. Trying to wonder when did all these drama begin. I guessed it really was after I finished my studies overseas. But was that it? Was that the only reason why I started rebelling? Just because I went overseas and became arrogant? I closed my eyes, trying to find the reason. 

     Last time Mother cried, she told me, "You should let go of the grudges you have been having against me," she paused to blow her nose, "It's not good to be so angry at your parents, it will bring you bad luck,"

     Grudges? Did I really have those? Bad luck? Is she some kind of God-like entity?

     What grudges have I been having anyway?

    Looking back, Mother has never been part of my life since I was born. I understood well that she needed to work for us. That's totally cool. With my sister around, I wasn't lonely. I didn't feel like making any trouble to gain her attention, since I know the only one who could get her attention has been my sister. The smart one. The pretty one. The athletic one. The talented one. I have always been the mediocre one. The uglier one. The only thing Mother could be proud of has been how obedient I was, and for me, that's enough.

     I wondered if that's why once I started saying no, she wreaked havoc? 

     My mind wandered further back. It was a rainy evening, I was 10.

     "Mom," I sobbed, "my classmates called me ugly because of my face shape,"

     Mother didn't look away from her screen. Then she replied coldly.

     "If you know you are ugly, then don't skip your moisturizers after shower,"

     I think, I was the one who should be throwing tantrum. Instead, I just went out of her room quietly, crying silently. So, my Mom doesn't even think that I am pretty, I thought.

     But that's not how things began. Well, how about when I was 17? I had a massive crush on this one guy, and once, Father saw him staring at me, so he went and told my Mother that someone has a crush on me.

     Mother snickered, "There's no way,"

     "I know what I am seeing," Father replied, irritated.