Chapter 4

When the TV show ended, Dad couldn't help himself. He picked up the takeout box and walked toward my room.

"Christy hasn't eaten since noon. She must be starving."

"Don't you dare go in there!" Mom snapped, grabbing his arm and snatching the box. She threw it straight into the trash can.

"Every time she throws a fit, you run to comfort her."

"Is she the only one allowed to have feelings? We work our fingers to the bone every single day, and we have to come home and walk on eggshells around our 'fragile princess'?"

"So I yelled at her a little. So what? Parents always know what's best. If she weren't my daughter, I wouldn't even waste my breath on her."

Mom’s sharp words echoed through the quiet house. I knew she was saying them loud enough for me to hear through the door.

That familiar, suffocating anxiety gripped my chest again.

Even though my heart had stopped beating, a profound sense of shame made my throat tight.

I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry I was such a shameful daughter.

I squatted helplessly next to the trash can.

I thought that if I could just learn to control my emotions, maybe my parents wouldn't be so exhausted anymore.

But looking at the steak slowly growing cold in the trash, a sharp pain pierced my soul.

Why did my soul still hurt so badly?

It’s okay... now that I’m gone, they will finally be happy.

I curled up in the dark corner of the living room, watching them.

It was late, but my parents didn't go to sleep.

Mom’s voice broke the silence. "David... I just wanted her to learn. I just wanted her to be stronger."

Dad sighed heavily, lighting a cigarette.

"During the parent-teacher conference, Mr. Joel said Christy is too anxious. She can't even stand up to answer a question in class."

"Her voice starts shaking before she can even get a word out."

Dad wrapped his arms around Mom’s shoulders.

"Christy is still young. The doctor said highly sensitive kids just experience the world differently. We shouldn't pressure her too much."

"How can I not worry? I’m her mother!" Tears welled up in Mom’s eyes.

"We won't be around forever. What is she going to do when we're gone?"

"Is any company going to hire an employee who bursts into tears during a meeting?"

"How is she going to survive the harsh reality of this world on her own?"

Mom’s words were like sharp knives, tearing my heart to shreds.

So... Mom had been worrying about my future all along.

It was my own weakness that had made her so desperate.

I’m sorry, Mom. I really, really wanted to be a normal kid.

Looking at my mother trying so hard to be strong, I sobbed hysterically. I knelt before them, bowing my head to the floor over and over again.

Dad, Mom, you don't have to worry about me anymore.

Your fragile, broken little girl will never trouble you again.