Sunflower Girl

Chapter 1

How many years has it been since I've stayed in this solitude? How many years has it been since I lost myself against my will? Being the perfect child costs. It cost me my entire life, hopes, and dreams that I wanted to pursue. It cost me my everything. What am I? Just a shell of existence with no real hidden meaning. Just someone who is trying to get by. Not someone who cares about life. Someone who is just here wishing for her final days. That's me. Waiting for death to come and finally take me away from all of this. To me, Death was better than whatever I was doing. At least, I would finally be at peace. Something I can only ever dream of.

"Cressida," a name I was given by my parents that I loathe. I hate with every fiber in my weakened bones. I hate it. "Are you going to work?" My mother had called from downstairs. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. She knew I was going to work. A job I hate. She heard me in the bathroom. She even greeted me this morning. I wanted to spit out insults, but I didn't; instead, I swallowed the bile of hate that had risen and replied differently.

"Yeah," I said as I put the finishing touches on. There was nothing to finish. I was already done. I didn't need to look in the mirror; I hated what I saw. I hated how my life revolves around anyone but me. I hated how every time I go to work, people accuse me of getting dressed in the dark; actually, I don't care about that. I don't care about anyone. My heart has been closed off since I could even talk, or maybe after. It wasn't until my dad said I couldn't make friends and ruined it every chance he got. It started in school, middle school to be exact, but it only got worse when I entered high school, that's when I started caring about myself.

I wasn't allowed to have friends, but my brothers were. I wasn't allowed to date, but my brothers were. I wasn't allowed to live, but my brother has a great career in being a music producer, the other is a well-known realtor, and the other is living in this house being a bum with two kids and his bitter wife. She had no reason to be bitter. She chose him. I was forced into this family and forced to be put on the back burner. I was forced to become a lawyer because he paid for it. I was forced and gaslit to stay in this fucking house because they claimed they were getting older. They had my brother still living here, with his wife and two boys. They had people.

BUT it has to be me. It always has to be me. Even when I had gotten a promotion to work at the Korean branch, my dad claimed to be sick and was sent to the hospital, ruining it for me. He ruined my life. The time after that, when I had gotten another promotion to go to China, he conveniently got into a car accident, and my mom ALWAYS helped him bring the gaslighting home. ALL THE FUCKING TIME. She claims she doesn't, but she does, too. Can't forget just last month when I was offered the lead lawyer position in Japan. My parents came with I have a bad feeling about this, and the most famous one, I'm having nightmares about this. My nightmares always come true. Those are just the tip of how it's been going for me.

Now, I'm 30 years old and still stuck at home, and every day I know I am getting increasingly bitter. I hate being here. I'm stuck, and it's their fault. No matter what, I will blame them for the rest of my life.

"Did you hear what I said?" It was my dad who decided to speak to me, as I was pouring myself a cup of apple juice that's probably expired by now.

"Yeah. Thanks. You, too." I mumbled and made a beeline for the door. Outside was my solace. It was my peace. Work was the only time that I was ever away from home. I would always yearn to work longer hours, and when I get them, I'm happy. When we have to work from home, that's when the issue comes about because even though I am working, I'm always being called. It never fails, especially when I'm in meetings. If it isn't my nephews banging the door down, it's my parents, my brother, or his wife. I would love nothing more than if everyone just left me alone. Hence, I don't answer my phone, and I watch as it goes to voicemail. I always give the petty excuse of not hearing it, or it's on silent. No one ever questions it; they just mumble words I hear, but I don't care. Being around these people has pissed me off. I never got to experience college life because that's not what God wanted from me, or whatever he said back then.

I took in several gulps of air before getting in the car, starting it, rolling the windows down, and blasting my music. Today, like any day, was a heavy metal kind of day. Given up by Linkin Park soothed this ache in my chest that would come back ten times as it usually does, but for now, I allow the words to roll over me, filling me with peace, serenity, calming. The wind seeps through my skin, my hair, my heart. It takes me to different places. The green trees greet me with glee and excitement as the roads rejoice to see me. The clouds follow me, chase me. We race to the finish line. A red blaring light that forces us all to stop. A smile covers my bitterness, promising me things will get better. Oh, I hope so.

"What a great morning." I sigh, happy to work so far away. A truly beautiful thing. I park in my usual spot under the palm trees that welcome me. The leaves wave at me as I step out of my car. My heel from the black pump I chose to wear gets stuck between the seat and the edge of the car. Yet, that doesn't dampen my mood at all. I politely unstuck it and went on about my day.

As I make my way into the corridor, everyone welcomes me, some with pity, others with remorse, but just the few who greet me with kindness are the ones that I talk to the most.

"Hey! How was your morning?" Jessy always welcomes me in the morning with a cup of what he calls; magic potion, but it's just black coffee. He claims it's handmade, but I know better. Jessy is smart, funny, and attractive. His piercing grey eyes always know my secrets, or that's how it feels. His caramel-colored skin always brightens up anything around him. His soft black curls bounce when he is excited about, well, everything. Nothing dampens his mood, compared to bitter ole me. The only thing people complain about is his height. He's taller than me, so it never really bothered me at all. I'm at a cool 5 foot 7, and he's 5 foot 11. To me, that's pretty tall, and I'm wearing heels.

"Same as always," I mumbled, which made him smile for whatever reason. We ended up walking in silence, which was fine with me, but why was he walking with me? Jessy's office is on the other side.

"Did you hear about Jessy's girl?" Ah, there it was, the rumor mill. I only took Millie, I forgot her actual name, all of ten seconds to see the two of us together. An evil smirk appeared on her face, but she isn't important enough for me to continue on her.

"I wanna be Jessy's girl!" Amber began to sing loudly. She was the dumb redheaded one, and Millie was the evil brunette. Typical.

"Not the song, stupid. Oh, forget it." Millie gave up and stomped off in the opposite direction from where she works. Perhaps, she's skipping.

"Good morning, Jessy, Cress." Amber smiled happily, squeezing into the elevator with us and several thousand others. Perks of working in a popular building owned by nothing and no one. "Did you see Millie?" Everyone calls her Millie. "She tried to gossip with me. Can you believe that?" Jessy laughed as he pulled her closer.

"Your vocals were on point, babe." He kissed her lovingly, making me want to vomit. I hate romance. I made a face. Amber, yet it's always Amber, began the kissing noises in my ear. I was traumatized as it was, but now she made me remember about the guy who claimed to have loved me for so long, only to have been stalking me for six years, without me noticing. I have better things to worry about, and a stalker isn't one of them.

"Amber, please." That was the only warning I gave out, but since I had a smile on my face, she took it to mean something different.

"I'm not interested in someone who only values others. It's a waste, and your feelings are wasted and won't be returned." Amber repeated verbatim. I groaned. I tried to forget that, I really did.

Amber and Jessy burst out into small fits of laughter, even as we reached the 12th floor, the laughing went on. It was exhausting to say the least. I tried my best to ignore them, but it appeared my best wasn't good enough for them. Amber just kept on going and going.

"How are you Egyptian with a name like Amber?" I blurted out, which stopped them in their tracks.

"It's Amber Rous, but hopefully, it will be Amber Fletcher." Then Jessy and her kissed, with wet sounds and all.

"Okay, ew. Break it up." I groaned inwardly. Why do they do this to me all the time, I wonder. They could hate me, but I doubt it. After their kiss stopped, which Jessy broke, he stared at Amber for a good amount of time. He was probably taking in her tan skin that resembled the Sahara Desert, or her eyes the color of cinnamon, or maybe her curves, which were there faintly, or the way she held herself at a high standard as if she was an ancient Egyptian queen, or he could be staring at her hair, black as the Egyptian nights. Or the outfit she wore today, Chanel all down. Pink. Her favorite color.

"My last name isn't Fletcher. It's Raymond. Jessy Raymond." Amber paused and then laughed.

"I saw your ID. Stop playing with me." She hissed. He didn't back down, though.

"Oh yeah? What's my middle name?" He asked.

"Raymond, duh. Your favorite color is blue because of the sky, and your football team is the Lions; they never win. You like watching sappy romance movies, crying, and eating chocolate in the dark. You haven't talked to your dad since he cheated on your mom 15 years ago. You like getting me gifts and taking me to places we both love. You are caring, considerate, and annoying, but I still love you." And then, they kissed, AGAIN!

"Go to work!" I yelled at them, and they scurried away. It was too much some days; today is that someday. I went into my plain office and stared at my plain desk. Yep, just the way I like it. The only things there were a computer and the office phone. I made sure my office was kept the same as it was given to me. One day, they just might fire me due to my attitude. Whatever that is. If I had an attitude, it wasn't because of them. It was because of them. My own flesh and blood, who pulls me backwards when I was TRYING to move forward, but not anymore. I'm done.

"Oh, thank God, Cress." Carl sounded as if he were out of breath. "I have great news. South Korea is relentless. They want you to work there. You will be the head lawyer in charge, the big guy. They will pay you triple the amount they offered, and they are willing to throw in free," He paused for dramatic effect. "Your choice of the KGROUPs to go see live and in person. ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD!"

"Wow." I could only say. This was a big deal.

"It's a HUGE deal. Say yes." He was literally at my feet waiting for me to say something.

I sighed, and he frowned. He held a hand up, stopping me from speaking any further. "I'll give you two months to decide, and if it's still a no, then it's a no." His shoulders sagged as he walked away. This was a gigantic opportunity for our office to be big, and it was I who was ruining it. No, it was them. It's always them. They're keeping me trapped here.

What was there to think about? An opportunity to be something bigger than what I am here, or a missed opportunity, and to just stay here. I can go there and finally find myself, or I can stay here and continue to hope for death. I sank into my chair, groaning from sadness, depression, and whatever else alignments that I have caused myself. Maybe they'll finally take their hands off the rope they have tied around my neck, or they will pull it tighter, causing me to finally lose it.

Work, sadly, flew all too fast, making the drive home even faster. By the time I had gotten home, they were waiting, sitting. Waiting to ask me how my day was, waiting to bombard me with questions.

"You seemed upset this morning," Dad stated.

"Oh." That was all I said. "I'm not."

"How was your day?" Mom asked.

"Good," I replied, peeling off the heels I had on for many hours. Then they had gotten uncharacteristically silent. It was unnerving. Usually, they'll try to bombard me with questions I didn't want to answer. Now, they are silent.

"Have a seat." Mom patted the seat next to her, and I sat down.

"What are your thoughts on marriage?" My dad started. I made a face of disgust.

"No," I said. "I'm not interested in whatever this is."

"He's nice. He's my friend's son." Dad tried again.

"I said no, have that much respect for me, okay."

"He's nice and rich. You don't have to work anymore." My dad said, but I knew what he really meant. He didn't want me to leave, but I will. This time, no one will know.

"I said no." I stayed firm in my choice.

"At least take the picture and see for yourself. I'll send it to you."

"No, you don't have any respect for me. You don't care about me at all. I refused so many times, and you keep pushing the agenda. I don't care about him being your friend's kid. I said no and that's it." I stormed upstairs, making a show of slamming the door. This wasn't the first time he had done this. He doesn't listen, and I'm tired of it all. If I wanted to get married, I would marry a homeless man or a fish. A fish would be better than a human, anyway. I lay on my bed thinking of ways to die, when a gust of wind occupied my room without consent. Even the wind didn't respect me enough to give me a heads-up as usual. I walked over to the window to see a small, yellow sunflower.

I looked around and saw no one there. Panic quickly set in. Now someone was watching me, and I have no one to tell this to. Many thoughts started to run through my head when I saw the house next door's lights flicker on.

"When did we get neighbors?" I said aloud, watching the shadows move in and out of the room, carrying things that I could not make out.