It’s My Life

“You’re just a child, Ashley, you don’t know what you want.”

“Passion fades away, practicality is what matters.”

“Just say you don’t want a future.”

My parents’ voices flooded my mind, making it impossible to focus on the task at hand; the college application form in front of me.

“I can do this,” I think to myself, “I know what I want.”

As I press submit, the weight on my shoulders only gets heavier knowing I still have to inform my parents of what I have done.

“Deep breaths.”

I take one shaky step after the other, heading over to the living room where my parents are sitting, their faces void of emotion as usual.

“Mom, dad,” I announce softly, making sure to hide the tremble in my hands, “I just submitted my application.”

My mother smiles coldly responding, “Well? Did you make the right decision?”

I force myself not to snap at her in that moment and calmly say, “I made the best decision for me.”

Both my parents scowl and my father scoffs saying, “So, you decided to throw away our hard-earned money to joke around and write silly little poems.”

I glare at him and snark back, “No, I am doing what will make me happy and content! Majoring in English Literature is my dream, you know this.”

My mom rolls her eyes, “Oh please, we didn’t waste our money on you all these years just for you to go and become jobless. What would you even do with an ‘English degree’? Nothing!”

I feel tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall or give my parents the satisfaction, “I AM GOING TO BE AN AUTHOR! I GOT A FULL RIDE TO AN IVY LEUGE! WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?” I scream feeling any control I have slip.

My father stands and slaps me as he calmly responds, “You are our child, our responsibility, we will not let you throw your life away for a future in poverty. An English degree is for spoiled kids with trust funds, you have a duty to this family, and you will fulfil it, are we clear?”

I push him off me and whisper, “I am not going to medical school, and I am not your puppet you get top control. I am my own person, and I won’t spend my life living in regret because of you and your selfish needs.”

SLAP

As my dad strikes me again, I look at him with hate in my eyes, tears falling, “Your beatings don’t scare me old man, not anymore.”

In shock, he sits back down and the monsters who raised me look back at me as I glare smiling.

“Now, I am going to talk, and you will both listen,” as they are about to protest, I grab the knife I had in my pocket, prepared for this, “Okay?”

They both stare at me with wide eyes, fear overtaking their anger.

“Ashley, honey, put the knife down-”

“How dare you disrespect us, girl-”

“SHUT UP!” I scream at them with a crazed look; the built up of emotions, the years of emotional and physical abuse, and the pressure of sacrificing every breath I took to get on top, it all finally caught up to me.

This is the day my parents tremble in fear as I express my own wants and needs, this is my moment to let it all out.

As I pace around, I glare at them chuckling, “My whole life you molded me into your perfect image, destined for great things and capable of perfection no one else could accomplish, sounds nice, huh?” I slam my fist down on the table in front of them, “NO, NONE OF IT WAS NICE!”

I let out a watery laugh as I wipe my hand down my face, “You ruined my life, every day I have to fight against my own mind in order to survive, breathing in air like my next breath is my last; I am ruled by my anxiety and fears.”

“We were preparing you for the future-”

“NO SPEAKING!” I scream grabbing an ash tray and smashing it on the floor.

I hold the knife up to my father’s throat as I murmur, “Preparing me? You traumatized me, you horrible sick man…I am incapable of trusting anyone in my life, even those trying to save me, those who saw how twisted you were from a mile away…you’re lucky you’re still breathing.”

Turning to my mother, I smile intensely, “And you mother, ever the actor. You may have never beat me like him, but you did so much worse…every single passion I have had you dug your claws in so deep, poisoning my soul so thoroughly that it took me years to even think of trusting my own judgement.”

My mother sobs out, “WE WANTED YOU TO BE PRAGAMTIC YOU UNGRATEFUL, SPOILED-”

I cut her off as I stab the knife in the arm of the couch and whisper, “Choose your words wisely, mother.”

As she stays quiet, I look at both of them with disgust.

“I am going to be an author, I will find success in life, and most importantly, I will never EVER end up like you heartless beings…”

I took the knife and went upstairs and took my packed suitcase, taking one last look at the place I called home these past 18 years, but before my nostalgia could take over, I remembered the sleepless nights and the screams of younger Ashley as she begged to be heard, and every ounce of sadness vanishes; today I made sure she was heard.

Walking out through the doors that kept me trapped and leaving behind the monsters of my past, I keep walking till I am far away enough, deciding to do something I have craved for years.

I scream.

Loudly.

I scream for what feels like hours, letting all my anguish go, freeing myself of all the negativities plaguing me and holding me back.

I will be okay.

I have to be.