The clock struck three o’ five and soon the presence of my friends and stress from schoolwork couldn’t distract me anymore. My heart sank the same as it does at this time everyday. As I stood at the end of the walkway exiting my highschool, I could already hear my mother’s voice in the back of my head. I enter the vehicle and she immediately starts to gibe at the way my hair fell a little too flat on the left side. She taunts me over how I appear a little bloated around my lower stomach. As a result, mother explains that I must spend an hour in the gym tomorrow morning instead of the usual 40 minutes. I would not point out the fact I had a brownie at lunch today, the repercussions would almost be unbearable. Maybe the all A’s progress report I received today would impress her, though it never has before. The drive home from school, she picks me apart piece by piece. Mother takes advantage of this time because father isn’t here to defend me.

I hid away in my room until my father gets home. When I go to greet him at the front door, he could tell in my dispirited face that her words had gotten to me once again. After we ate dinner, he tried to convince me that she will one day change and the criticism will stop. He says I am perfect in his eyes and my flaws will never define me. Still, mother’s words flurry in my head through the night. Even after father’s efforts to give me hope, I still wake up with the same feeling: I don’t want to leave school today.