"I've had enough."
When a child is born, the first beings they encounter are their parents. Those adults become the foundation on which personalities are developed.
After coming home so late from the hospital, my father had gotten into one of his rages again. A cloud of dust and soot rose into the air as he threw the chair onto the ground. The rotted wood splintered into pieces instantly. I didn't flinch. Unlike before, my father's anger did not scare me anymore. The harsh, purple bruises were nothing to me. My mind was occupied with other things. I had to break away from the foundation that he built.
This was the last time I would see him.
"Father," I look at the old man in front of me. I remembered when he used to be young. A caring man with kind eyes, who used to have a wife. And two sons. Now it was just me and him. "I used to want to do everything just to receive some kind of love or even attention from you."
I paused. "I studied and endured the pain. I took up business because I wanted to make you happy. I wanted to earn money so that we could survive."
I'd already made the choice, long before the beating began.
Ye Ying had changed me.
Earlier, I had reached for the box, dusting its blanket of thin webs off as I opened the lid. A twang of pain caused me to lose my focus, the box slipping from my hands. A pile of cash spilled out onto the floor. I quickly placed the secret stash of money back into the little wooden box. The money was mine. I would use it for myself.
My father stood in front of me. His cheap thrifted business suit was crumpled in rags. He no longer looked like a demon to me. I realized that I had already forgiven him.
In movies or TV, they often show the love hidden behind a parent's clumsy attempts to express themselves…or reconciliation and forgiveness through true communication. The reality is often different. Parents are only human. They can be immature and broken.
That's my reality.
"I don't blame you… the life we live is a hard one." I looked him in the eyes. "You tried to become an artist— and failed at it. I get it. You don't want me to end up like that too."
He hit me again. I didn't mind. The moments of pain I had endured through these few years were already numb to me.
Perhaps true maturity isn't to ask for reconciliation. Maybe it comes after one moves through all the trouble and leaves the mess on their own two feet, no matter how painful the journey is.
"There's nothing left to lose." Ye Ying's smile had given me courage. "So go and do what you really want to do."
I had enrolled into art school.
Many more challenges lay ahead of me. I was not a student yet. I had not thought about how I would live from now on. The process of making art. The exams I would have to take. Never receiving the approval of my father. It was all new. Yet I wanted to embrace this new feeling. Embrace this new choice. And go down the path I chose to take.
"I won't end up like you." I say to my father, packing up my papers and pencils. "And even if I do, I won't give up as you did."
I stepped away from the crippled and fragmented chair that my father threw and headed for the door.
"All children grow up. I'm almost an adult.
"I think it's time for me to get away from this family."
I looked back once more, scanning through my home. I looked at the dry cracked walls. I looked at the table that stood in the middle of our one-room house. I looked at the creaky floorboards littered with translucent green bottles of alcohol. Finally, I looked at my father, standing by himself. Now he really would be alone, I thought to myself. A lonely, broken old man. A feeling of sadness washed over me at that moment.
After a few seconds of reflection, I spoke, "Goodbye. I hope you live a good life. Pay off all that debt, and don't drink too much alcohol. Just forget about me."
"Because this time I want to live my life as my own."