Sunflower Vol.6 [H.S]

thirty four

"Merry Christmas Sunny."
Marina Young's POV

       During the holidays was when I was tempted the most to dial the number that belonged to my Mother or Father, hoping for a Christmas miracle where they would answer with happiness in their voice. Where tears of joy would race down my cheek when they tell me about their regrets of what they use to say. Where they would tell me they missed me and didn't know how to call and tell me. I would dream a magical moment where the stars aligned and my parents would tell me they loved me on Christmas morning. And every time I looked at their contact name, right before I can press the button to dial their number, I am reminded of the last time I spoke to them. Every year, a dream wakes me up in my sleep to share the memory of their words. 

"Eomma, please," I begged, tears forming on the brim of my eyes. "If you would just listen to me and hear what I have to say." I plea when I chase after her walking away from me in the living room with my father. The both of them face their backs to me when I speak. 

"I don't have to listen to you, Marina!" She shouts when she stops. "I will not support or accept these silly dreams of yours. You will not live under my house doing that stupid music of yours." She yells as she takes steps forward with every cruel word, my father places a hand in front of her.

"Appa," I croak out, gazing at him. "Please just talk to her. Just listen to me, I can do this." 

"Marina your mother is right. We will not support you if you decide to go down this path." He says, more calmly. "We will not discuss this anymore. Enough is enough." He states and that's when everything in my life set aflame once he says that statement, it causes me to laugh wickedly.

"Discuss what?" I repeat. "It's not like the two of you speak to me anyways." I raise my voice. "All we know how to do in the Young household is ignore every fucking thing about one another!"

"Marina that is enough!" My father screams now and I shake my head with a pained smile.

"You're right, Appa, it is enough." I say when I back away. "I've had enough of being a fucking puppet for you, all I've wanted was for you tell me you were proud of me. I do everything you want!" I yell, tears mixing with the words. "And for once, one dream I have, and we have to pretend like precious Marina isn't capable of it! Well you know what, I don't need it anymore!" I conclude, turning on my heel to walk toward the staircase, up to my room. 

"Marina you leave this house and I will never speak to you again!" My mother screams. 

"Like you speak to me anyways, Eomma." I mention as I stomp up every step.

"I will not have a daughter, Marina!" She shouts, causing me to stop in my tracks. "You'll be dead to me, like you were never here, do you understand me?" She spits out, my hand clutching the railing as I listen to every syllable. "You leave this house and you'll be dead to me." She repeats and I find myself listening to a loud ring in my ear, like my guardian angels watch as I decide what to do next. How to respond to a statement like that. Until the moment comes as I turn around, to watch at my mother has her hands balled into fists at her side, her eyes so cold, so dull.