Fortune Cookie

I sit at the table, anxiety, and stress eating at me. I don't want to be here. Not now and not with them. 

"So, how's work?" 

I try to speak, but I don't find my tongue. It feels like my mouth is glued shut, trapped. But, anything out of my mouth wouldn't be the answer they want to hear, anyway. As normal, they don't notice my behavior. My silence isn't anything new. I never told them my feelings about anything they've done to hurt me or my thoughts. And, how was I? I can't even find the will to look at them, I just stare at my food with a blank expression. Unable to speak, unsure of where to look. I don't want to make eye contact. These memories my mind holds, they're not pleasant. They're not ones of a happy family, who love their child. They're of an uncomfortable childhood, with tyrants for parents. Being yelled, if not screamed, at for the dumbest things. My grades never being enough, my looks nor my personality ever met their expectations. They're only better now because I'm an adult. They can't control me, anymore.

"I don't want to be here," I slammed my hands on the table, finally looking at them, "I don't want to be here, anymore."

They just stared at me, not even saying a word. Their eyes blank, void of emotion.

"How could you say that?" My mother started, "We raised you. We do so much, for you. It's your dad's birthday and our anniversary. The least you can do is have dinner with us!"

My dad nearly scowled at me but remained silent. I knew he wanted to say something, but I cut them both off before anyone could speak.

"Are you two the ones that have to live with the memories? The ones of you trying to control me, of you yelling at me when I didn't meet your expectations. For being like a boy, for being me, for fucks sake!" 

My voice raised as tears fell from my eyes. These people were supposed to be the ones who guided me, who lead me to something bigger than myself. And, yet all they've done is drag me to the ground and belittle me. All my life, I was never enough. I was never treated like their child, just a doll. To control and manipulate into their perfect image. 

"I don't want to be here…"

My tears fell as I sank to the ground, feeling disoriented as my vision went black. 

"Are you okay?"

I shook my head, looking up at my dad, "Yeah," I spoke blankly. 

I was on edge, stressed. Nothing was helping, not even knowing that I was an adult now. I would always be a child in their eyes, they'd always look down on me or belittle me. 

"Separate checks or one?"

"Huh, can you repeat that please?"

"One check or two?"

"Sorry, I didn't hear you well the first time. It's these masks," My mother laughed politely, "One check, please."

"I will be right back, thank you."

As soon as she left, my mother's smile faded and became a scowl, "I couldn't even understand what she said. Her accent was so thick. Geez."

I remained silent, staring down at my plate. She didn't care. Neither of them did. 

"Thank you."

She said the bill down, along with four fortune cookies. I was already ready to leave when we walked in the door, so I grabbed one first. The bag was difficult to open, just not budging. Until I noticed the hole in the back. I carefully grabbed the cookie, breaking it in half. The fortune was facing backward, so all I saw was the numbers. But, in that moment, I knew this fortune wasn't random. The feeling of dread enveloped me as I reached for the fortune, turning it over. 

You're not here anymore. And, you should cherish that. 

I woke up in a cold sweat, looking around the room. 

"I'm not at a Chinese Restaurant with my parents?"

"No, butthole. We're home, now go back to sleep."

He playfully shoved the blanket over me, laying my way now.

"Bad dream?"

I nodded, "Yeah…"

"Well, whatever it was, you're here now."

He poked my nose playfully, "Now go back to sleep."

I watch as he closes his eyes and falls back to sleep. I almost envied how calm he could be, while my mind was a mess of paranoia and traumatic memories. I wish he understood more, but I don't want anyone to know this pain. The pain of having your own parents mistreat you. The panic of having to return home, as a child. The dreams I had of running away or committing suicide. At the age of 12. The nights I just cried for hours, having a mental breakdown. Not even 20 years old, and having a mental breakdown. The memories I have...I wouldn't wish this on anyone.