clients.
These kids are super nice to me because their parents want more money and more
opportunities from my father.
These kids are too formal. They are the dwarf
versions of the business men and women in downtown Boston. Their dresses
and hair styles, the way they talk and smile, and everything else are way too
mature. They keep their posture straight all the time. I bet they
have to hold their asses really tight to do that. And that must be
really tiring.
Slumber parties? Forget it.
Best friends? Forget it.
Girls’ gossiping? Forget it.
These little kids are wearing as big of masks as their
parents do. They don’t like you or love you. They only like and
love your money.
Most kids belong to a “Family”. For example, I
belong to the “Morgan Family”. They live and breathe in the family.
They have to get ready to take over the family business, grow it, and then pass
it down to their kids.
Unfortunately, I don’t like this business world
thing. I like to have real friends who can share the deepest
secrets. I want to be loved by a boy one day because of me , not my
family. I want to do what I really like, such as singing a song over my
guitar or swearing in a bar.
My marks in high school are high enough for a pre-med
program, which my parents are really proud of. They want me to go to a
business program and finish my education as an MBA (or some other business
shit), which I really hate.
I want to get into an art program, such as studying the
rock music. This idea really pisses off my parents. My mother
actually yells at me. That’s when I discover she has the perfect soprano
voice of a world famous female singer. What a waste of her gifted voice.
My father is pretty cool. He doesn’t raise his voice
a tiny bit. He doesn’t lock his eyebrows a single inch. But he
makes it very clear: We are paying for your college education. So take a
finance program or you are on your own.
For the first time, I made my own decision: To go my way.
My mother almost blacks out the moment she realizes I’m
serious. “Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh,” she says. She sounds the
world is falling apart right under her designer shoes.
My father is still cool, “Well, that’s your
education. Let us know when you need support.” And then he adds,
“Financially or otherwise.”
For the first time, I feel like they are my real parents,
the man and woman with feelings .
Though not going their way, I’m not a disappointment at
all. I get into the Boston University with a full scholarship. My
major? Psychology. That’s the science of the study of human
behavior and the human mind. I want to find out why rich family kids can
hide so well behind their masks.
I can’t wait to begin my own life in the university with no strings attached to my parents. I want to prove I’m strong and
independent. I want to find a boyfriend of my dreams, too. One day.
Chapter Two
Two years and three months later.
In the night of January 21, the first big snowstorm of the
year keeps everyone home. It’s only 12º F outside.
Today is my darkest day of my life. What I saw an
hour ago will be stuck in my head, like a cancerous tumor, for the rest of my
life. I’m on a slow death row. That tumor will grow.
It will turn into flesh-eating worms to drain my body and soul. It will
duplicate itself in tens, hundreds, thousands, and then millions. These
hungry worms will eat my flesh and bones when I’m awake and asleep.
My world turned from pink and romantic to a big pile of
shit. Seriously, as a “good kid” in the Morgan Family, I’m not supposed
to swear, or do anything against the highest moral standard. But at that
moment, I did wish I would have had the most vicious magic power to send my
boyfriend to the lowest world and burn him into ashes. Or better yet, to
tear him apart
These kids are super nice to me because their parents want more money and more
opportunities from my father.
These kids are too formal. They are the dwarf
versions of the business men and women in downtown Boston. Their dresses
and hair styles, the way they talk and smile, and everything else are way too
mature. They keep their posture straight all the time. I bet they
have to hold their asses really tight to do that. And that must be
really tiring.
Slumber parties? Forget it.
Best friends? Forget it.
Girls’ gossiping? Forget it.
These little kids are wearing as big of masks as their
parents do. They don’t like you or love you. They only like and
love your money.
Most kids belong to a “Family”. For example, I
belong to the “Morgan Family”. They live and breathe in the family.
They have to get ready to take over the family business, grow it, and then pass
it down to their kids.
Unfortunately, I don’t like this business world
thing. I like to have real friends who can share the deepest
secrets. I want to be loved by a boy one day because of me , not my
family. I want to do what I really like, such as singing a song over my
guitar or swearing in a bar.
My marks in high school are high enough for a pre-med
program, which my parents are really proud of. They want me to go to a
business program and finish my education as an MBA (or some other business
shit), which I really hate.
I want to get into an art program, such as studying the
rock music. This idea really pisses off my parents. My mother
actually yells at me. That’s when I discover she has the perfect soprano
voice of a world famous female singer. What a waste of her gifted voice.
My father is pretty cool. He doesn’t raise his voice
a tiny bit. He doesn’t lock his eyebrows a single inch. But he
makes it very clear: We are paying for your college education. So take a
finance program or you are on your own.
For the first time, I made my own decision: To go my way.
My mother almost blacks out the moment she realizes I’m
serious. “Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh,” she says. She sounds the
world is falling apart right under her designer shoes.
My father is still cool, “Well, that’s your
education. Let us know when you need support.” And then he adds,
“Financially or otherwise.”
For the first time, I feel like they are my real parents,
the man and woman with feelings .
Though not going their way, I’m not a disappointment at
all. I get into the Boston University with a full scholarship. My
major? Psychology. That’s the science of the study of human
behavior and the human mind. I want to find out why rich family kids can
hide so well behind their masks.
I can’t wait to begin my own life in the university with no strings attached to my parents. I want to prove I’m strong and
independent. I want to find a boyfriend of my dreams, too. One day.
Chapter Two
Two years and three months later.
In the night of January 21, the first big snowstorm of the
year keeps everyone home. It’s only 12º F outside.
Today is my darkest day of my life. What I saw an
hour ago will be stuck in my head, like a cancerous tumor, for the rest of my
life. I’m on a slow death row. That tumor will grow.
It will turn into flesh-eating worms to drain my body and soul. It will
duplicate itself in tens, hundreds, thousands, and then millions. These
hungry worms will eat my flesh and bones when I’m awake and asleep.
My world turned from pink and romantic to a big pile of
shit. Seriously, as a “good kid” in the Morgan Family, I’m not supposed
to swear, or do anything against the highest moral standard. But at that
moment, I did wish I would have had the most vicious magic power to send my
boyfriend to the lowest world and burn him into ashes. Or better yet, to
tear him apart
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