“If I said I want to pursue singing, will you believe me?”
My parents stayed silent. Suddenly a thin sound of crunch echoed. My father took a bite out of the seaweed snack I was saving. Tears rolled down my eyes in agitation and sadness.
After all it was the last remaining seaweed snack in house.
But I couldn’t say anything, not before they spoke first. I finally rose from my seat.
My father slowly dusted his fingertips. The leftover wasabi powder fell like snow.
“Stop right there.”
I paused. It took millions of my cells to turn and face him. Every mitochondrion in my cells were firing. Is this adrenaline rush? I repeatedly chanted; mitochondria are the powerhouse of the cell as if it was a mantra.
“Before you go, tell me why?” He wiped his oval lenses. “Huh?” I quizzically looked at him.
“Why did you gave us false hope that you are going to become a doctor?”
“What? When did I say something like that?”
“All your percentages and grades…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It doesn’t mean anything.” I whispered. I know both of us are disappointed at each other.
“I think I should go.”
“Where do you think you are going?” My mother asked. She spoke for the first time. “Hiya, what are you thinking?” My mother’s shrill voice pierced through my ears.
“Don’t you guys get it? I need to calm myself.”