Sunny sat in her room, her sketchpad open on her lap, filled with vibrant designs that spilled from her mind onto the paper. Each line, each shade, each pattern—her entire world was contained within those pages. But today, the comforting rhythm of her pencil was interrupted by the heavy footsteps echoing down the hall.
A sharp knock, and before she could answer, the door flew open. Her father, Dr. Park, stormed in, followed closely by her mother, both wearing stern expressions. Her father's hands clutched a thick folder, brimming with pamphlets from top science universities.
"Sunny," he began, his voice low and cold, "enough of this nonsense. We need to talk about your future, about reality." He cast a withering glance at the sketchpad in her hands, as if it were something shameful.
Sunny's heart sank. She'd had this conversation too many times before, and she knew where it was heading. But this time, she was ready to stand her ground. "Dad, I don't want to be a scientist. I've told you, my passion is in fashion design—"
Before she could finish, her mother suddenly snatched the sketchpad out of her hands, her lips curling in disdain. "A fashion designer?" she spat, waving the pad in front of Sunny's face. "You're throwing away your future for this... this childish fantasy?"
Sunny's breath hitched, panic swelling in her chest. "Give that back, Mom!" she cried out, reaching for her sketches, but her father blocked her path, his expression hardening.
"You're wasting your time, Sunny. You have a duty to this family, to our legacy—"
Without warning, her mother began tearing through the sketches, ripping each page with sharp, angry movements. Designs she had poured her heart into fluttered to the ground in shreds. Sunny watched, horrified, as her dreams were torn apart in front of her.
"Stop it!" Sunny's voice cracked with desperation as she lunged forward, trying to grab the remains of her work. "Please, just stop!"
Her father held her back, his grip firm, and for a moment, she could see the frustration mingled with sadness in his eyes. "We're trying to save you from a life of disappointment, Sunny. This is for your own good—"
"Over my dead body!" Sunny screamed, her voice raw and trembling. Tears streamed down her face as she fought against her father's hold, her hands clawing at the ruined sketches on the floor. "I'd rather die than give up on my dreams! I'll never be your perfect little scientist!"
Her mother dropped the last of the shredded pages, looking down at Sunny with a mixture of exasperation and disbelief. "You'll thank us for this one day, when you realize how foolish you're being now."
But Sunny's eyes blazed with defiance, even as her body shook with sobs. "I'll never thank you for this," she whispered, voice cracking under the weight of her anger and pain. "I'll never forgive you for destroying everything I care about."
Her father's expression hardened, as if a wall had come up between them. He let her go, stepping back as if she was no longer his daughter. "You're making a mistake, Sunny. When you fail, don't come running back to us."
He turned to leave, and her mother followed, but not before casting one last look at Sunny, crumpled on the floor amid the scattered remains of her designs. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving her alone in the silence of her broken dreams.
Sunny sank to the floor, her fingers trembling as she gathered the torn pieces of her sketches, her vision blurred by tears. But even through the devastation, a fierce determination burned in her chest. She wouldn't let them break her. She wouldn't let them crush her spirit.
Clutching the shredded sketches to her chest, she made a vow to herself, voice barely more than a whisper in the empty room, "I'll show them... I'll show them all. They'll regret the day they ever doubted me."
Sunny sat on the cold floor of her room, tears streaming down her face as she picked up the torn pieces of her designs. Her hands shook, clutching the ripped sketches, each piece a reminder of the dream her parents had just shattered.
She held the fragments close to her chest, feeling the weight of their harsh words. Her breaths were uneven, sobs escaping despite her attempts to hold them back.
"Why can't they just understand?" she whispered, her voice trembling as she fought against the overwhelming sadness. The pain of their actions felt like a heavy weight pressing down on her, leaving her devastated and alone.
"Being born in a rich family is a privilege that some might not have, but, being allowed to follow your dreams in peace is a privilege I never had" Sunny said crying