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The tension in the living room was thick. Mafuyu stood still, her hands resting against her sides, fingers digging lightly into the fabric of her skirt. On the table between them lay her latest mock exam results. scores that anyone else would consider good, but to the woman standing across from her, they were a sign of failure.
"I just don’t understand where this sudden carelessness is coming from Mafuyu" Her mother said, her voice filled with disappointment.
"I’ve noticed you’ve been distracted lately. Is it those... friends of yours? The ones from that online group?"
Mafuyu kept her gaze fixed on the floor.
"No... It has nothing to do with them."
"Then explain this to me," her mother sighed, stepping closer. She placed a hand on Mafuyu’s shoulder, a gesture that was supposed to be comforting but felt heavy to Mafuyu. "I only want what is best for you. You know that, right? I’ve sacrificed so much so you can have a good future. But if you're going to let your focus slip over hobbies, it makes me worry that you aren't mature enough to handle your own schedule."
Mature enough. The words echoed in Mafuyu's head.
"I'm sorry," Mafuyu whispered, the standard words slipping from her lips automatically. "I'll do better next time."
"Sincerity isn't just about saying the words." her mother replied, her tone sharpening. "You always say you'll do better but then I find you staring at your synthesizer or even staring blankly into space! It's childish. If you can't even manage your schoolwork properly, how can I trust you to make any real decisions for yourself?"
A familiar burning sensation pricked at the corners of Mafuyu’s eyes. A wave of frustration, despair and exhaustion threatened to break through. She wanted to tell her mother how much it hurt to live a life that didn’t feel like her own. But as a tear threatened to spill over a realization stopped her.
If she let the tears fall her mother wouldn't see a daughter in pain. She would see a child throwing another tantrum. She would see weakness. Her mother would use those tears as absolute proof that Mafuyu was too emotional and too unstable to guide her own life.
Crying would prove her mother right, that Mafuyu still needed to be controlled and managed. Mafuyu forced her jaw to lock. She drew a slow breath through her nose, holding the air in her lungs. She blinked rapidly, staring intensely at the floor, forcing the moisture in her eyes to go away.
She had to be strong.
"I understand" Mafuyu said. When she spoke her voice didn't shake. "I will adjust my study hours starting tonight. I won't let it happen again."
Her mother looked at her for a long moment searching Mafuyu’s face for any sign of rebellion or restraint. Finding nothing, her mother finally sighed and pulled her hand away.
"Good. I'm glad we can have these adult conversations Mafuyu. It shows you're growing up." Her mother picked up the exam paper, folding it neatly. "Go up to your room and start reviewing. I'll call you when dinner is ready."
"Yes, Mother."
Mafuyu turned and walked up the stairs. She closed her bedroom door behind her. Only then in her room, did she let her shoulders drop. The tears she had held onto downstairs instantly shattered and the tears she had fought so hard to suppress finally spilled over against her cheeks. She pressed her back against the wooden door and slid down to the floor, pulling her knees tight against her chest to anchor herself.
She buried her face in her arms, her whole body trembling with silent sobs. She didn't dare make a sound, even with the door closed, the fear of her mother hearing her and walking up the stairs kept her throat tight. Every gasp for air felt loud.
The bedroom was completely silent except for the ragged sound of Mafuyu’s breath. The tears kept spilling, blurring her vision. Her chest felt suffocatingly tight.
Childish. Unstable. Distracted.
Her mother’s words were echoing in her head. She needed the noise to stop. Slowly, Mafuyu unclasped her hands from her knees. Her fingers were trembling violently. She didn't look at her desk or her laptop. Instead, her eyes landed on her school bag dropped near her bed.
She reached over and unzipped the front pocket. Her fingers searched until they brushed against the cold metal of a sharp utility blade, the one she used for cutting heavy paper stock for school projects.
She pulled it out.The click of the metal sliding forward sounded loud in the quiet room. She walked over to her bed and sat down. Mafuyu pulled up the sleeve of her school uniform, exposing the pale skin of her forearm. She pressed the edge of the metal against her skin. She didn't want to cause a wound that would bleed through her clothes or leave a mark her mother would find, that would just be another sign of 'instability'.
She dragged the edge firmly across her skin, not deep enough to cut deeply, but hard enough to leave a bright red scratch. Mafuyu let out a small shaky gasp at the burning sensation. The agonizing weight in her chest lifted just a little, replaced by the sting on her arm. It was a pain she could actually handle. It was a pain that belonged entirely to her, completely out of her mother's control.
She did it again and again right next to the first one, watching the skin flare up in thin lines. She shut her eyes, leaning her head back against the hard wall next to her bed.
But the relief was temporary. As the sharp sting began to settle into a dull throb, the reality of that she just did came rushing right back. She looked down at her arm, at the red marks starting to swell, and a wave of nausea washed over her.
Downstairs, the muffled sound of her mother opening and closing cabinets reminded her that time was moving. Her mother was preparing dinner. Soon she would be called back down to play the part of the perfect daughter she had to be.
Trembling, Mafuyu pulled her sleeve back down, hiding the red lines against her skin. She didnt have any bandages in her reach, so her sleeve was the only thing covering it up. She slid the blade back into her bag, zipped it shut, and forced herself to stand up. Her legs felt weak but she dragged herself to her desk, opening her textbook to the page she was supposed to review. She stared at the print, the words swimming before her eyes, as she waited for her mother to call her for dinner.
.
.