3,471 Miles [Undergoing Editing]

Five- No Turning Back.

Sunday morning. The day of rest, and that's exactly what I planned on doing all day.

I pulled myself out of bed feeling a million times better than yesterday. Making my way downstairs to my dad, I heard him cluttering around as he attempted to make breakfast which caused me to grin.

The thing I love most about Sundays is that my dads home. No matter what's going on in the office or how much work he has, he will always make sure his home for the whole of Sunday. It was kind of like our day. Seen as we hardly saw each other in the week, it was nice to spend some time with him.

I skipped into the kitchen, slid into a seat at the table and started flicking through todays newspaper half heartily.

"Good morning dad, how are you on this fine Sunday morning?" I grinned, looking up from the paper.

My dad didn't even look at me, he just continued with breakfast. Uh-oh, what have I done now?

I went through everything I'd done over the past week, but came up with nothing. I'd tidied my room, went to school on time, done all my homework and even cooked dinner on the odd night. I'd literally been the perfect daughter as always, so what has got him to rattled up.

"Need some help?" I asked, trying to butter him up.

"No, just leave it." He snapped

"Well, someone's clearly woke up on the wrong side of the bed." I joked.

Bad idea. He span round with a murderous glint in his eyes and stated to yell, "No, Rhiannon, I haven't woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I wish I did instead of waking up to find a card from a academy thousands of miles away. When were you planning on telling me that you were applying for a course in New York!"

And that's when it all finally clicked into place. He thought I'd been looking to move away and study behind his back! I laughed and then begun to tell him what happened yesterday, "Dad, you've got it all wrong.."

He cut me off before I got the chance to explain, "I don't care what you have to say, Rhiannon. You're mother may have been okay with you prancing around the stage, throwing your life away but I'm not. I'm realistic and your just not good enough, the competition is too big . Get this silly idea out of your head because you are not going."

I was furious by this point. Not good enough? Not only did that hurt, but his words pushed some sort of button in body causing me to flip.

"If you would of asked before you jumped to conclusions, then you would of found out that a scout came to me, not the other way around. I'm not good enough? Well that's not what I was told yesterday! And I'm not going? Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do? I'm eighteen years old incase you forgot. And yes, mum supported me, but you don't no the meaning of the words. You just want me to work the same boring job and be unhappy with my life just like you are." I yelled, the hurt look in his eye causing my heart to hurt just a little.

He didn't reply so I continued in full rant mode, "You never stopped to ask what I wanted, you just assumed. You planned my life for me and it's not fair. I should get a say in what I want to do with my life, I'm sorry if that hurts you but your just going to have to suck it up. It's not even about the academy anymore, that just pushed me to this. It made me realise I was a people pleaser, I live to please you! Well I'm sorry dad, but that's not happening a more. If you'll excuse me I have a scout to call and a flight to book." I spat bitterly, standing up and exiting the kitchen and up to my room, not giving him a chance to reply.

I was shaking. How dare he think he can run my life like that. How dare he think I'm his puppet. I was hurt, him saying I wasn't good enough was one big slap in the face. I'm was angry, but most of all upset.

I'd never had a row with my dad. Ever. The hurt look on his face will haunt me forever, but he really hurt me. He jumped to conclusions instead of just asking me, so he brought it on himself.

I hadn't thought about theatre for a long, long time. When I was growing up, I lived breathed slept theatre. My mum would take me to every show, every lesson, every audition you could think off. I was well on my way to being a child star, I had real talent and my dad knew that.

When things changed, I gave up theatre because it hurt. It hurt to live the same life when everything was different. But now I was starting to think that what hurt the most was giving it up, not the events that happened to me. Last night, I had goosebumps. I'm not even kidding, my hair on my arms was standing on ends when I stood on that stage.

Was that the big, life altering puzzle piece that I'd been missing for so long?