I took the flowers and tossed them in the garbage can next to the window. I could see Mom tending to her plants in the garden from where I was standing. She's organizing the pots she brought from our previous house as well as the ones she recently purchased. Mama has a variety of flowers. There are roses, gumamelas, sunflowers, orchids, and "those" that I am not familiar with and have no idea what they are.
She turned to face me and smiled as soon as she realized I was looking at her. She pointed to a gumamela that was just starting to blossom. Her face registered the wideness of her smile. She finds great joy in her plants.
'One day, mom, you'll wake up to find all your flowers dead because I'm going to pour Clorox on them, once I finish poisoning Janel's cat.'
Many people have asked me why I dislike flowers. To be honest, I'm just sick of looking at them. I feel irritated. As I already stated, they were like annoying elves mocking me. So whenever I see flowers, I feel like I've done something wrong again, and they're there to ridicule me, to laugh at me. They were like stuffed animals — ghosts with huge smiles taunting me every day.
As a result, the only things I have on display in my room are paintings and frames with images of animals, homes, and locations rather than my own. Often, beach painting. But the majority of the items on display in my room are mugs, various varieties of mugs. There are several sizes, including large, tiny, short, and long. The mugs I have are frequently sent to me by my readers.
I sat down in front of the computer after getting ready to compose another story. In a year, I hope to complete three novels. Here, I devote my time and energy to writing. Because I can express myself that I couldn't show anyone via the novels I create.
I started typing, but it appears that I haven't yet overlapped since no matter what I start, I don't like the words that appear on the monitor. I've been sitting here for a while, but with every line I write, I instantly delete.
I can't think of anything to write, so I'll simply finish the merch I made for the book signing the next day. I'll also have some freebies for individuals who can't afford to buy things. It's encouraging that some people were pleased with the narrative I'm creating, despite the fact that it's all fiction.
I had just gone to bed after getting dressed when Janel called me for dinner, so I went down right away. I discovered that Mom had already prepared marinated squid and fried fish for us. Dad has a burger because he doesn't eat fish at night. He drinks milk before going to bed and does not drink milk after eating fish since it itches him.
"How's your book signing, Mia?" Dad asks as we began to dine.
"Everything is going great. I'm gaining more readers as the days go by." I replied, as he nodded and looked at Janel.
"How are your academics going?"
"I was under pressure because the semester was drawing to a close. Especially us, the graduating seniors, because we were entrusted with all of the preparations.”
“Hmph! So, what are your college plans?”
Janel didn't answer. She looked at me so I glared at her. Dad also looked at me then sighed.
"I won't stop you from doing what you want with your life if it makes you happy, but at the very least, Janel, don't be like your sister, who prioritized writing above going to college and wasted being valedictorian."
‘Seriously, this kid! Because you didn't respond right away, the tables were turned on me.'
"Well, you know how much I dislike soaking in school. I'm not opposed to studying, but what's the point of having a college diploma if all I want to do is write? The fact that I can write, read, and earn money with my talent is all that counts to me. I've already made money, and I still enjoy what I do." I emphasized to both Dad and Mom.
"I understand. That's why I'm not stopping you because that's where you're happy. I'm just saying, what if the day comes when you run out of ideas to write? What if you suddenly don't know what to write because you've already written practically everything you want to write?"
‘Impossible!’
I debated saying something in response to dad but decided against it. It is better to remain silent because if you respond, they will believe that I am debating them.
“Honey, your dad just says it's better if you have a diploma even if it's only a four-year course. Somehow you will also have something available when the day comes that you need it. It's not too late, you're just twenty-two years old and may still pursue.
'You are a nursing graduate, Mom, and you even passed the board exam, yet you are still a housewife, and we are your only patients. You, too, did not make use of your diploma.’
"I'll think about it," I said, hoping that the discussion wouldn't escalate and that I wouldn't be the bad person again because I voiced an opinion.
"Janel, have you considered anything just in case?" my mother asked my sister.
"Ah, certainly, ma, I'd like to study Fine Arts so that I may put my drawing talent to use. Then we knew that my sister's profession as a writer would advance much farther. When the time comes, we can work together. Isn't writing novels also a form of art, sister?" She winked at me once.
I only rolled my eyes at her along with a grin. Please understand that I am not resentful of my sister. I simply want to show her that I don't feel what she said, but deep down I am glad about what she said because I am her aspirations and desires in life.
"By the way, can you produce comics — your story, Mia, and Janel's drawing, right?" mother said.
“We will not stop you from doing what you want. As long as you always remember— ”
"You have to know the limits." Janel and I added to what Dad said.