Forget-Me-Not

Chapter III: Let Me Sleep

The sound of spoon hitting the glass cup was travelling throughout the room as Phoebe settled in her seat in the kitchen to take down her breakfast. With her left hand supporting her chin while unnecessarily stirring her black coffee almost endlessly, the utter boredom she was facing was vivid. To top it all, the unsettling thoughts she had been trying to deal with since her separation with Raine yesterday had never stopped haunting her which now made her head float around. The control center of her body was now on the verge of collapsing, not that she took that seriously, but Phoebe really needed to take a break.

Dorothy's cleaning routine was taking place as she wandered around the house, wiping things, and sorting out whatever there was to sort out. Carl had long decided to busy himself with the morning news on the internet through the laptop resting on top of the table across her daughter. One could only imagine the harmony of the ear-breaking sounds that the family was creating. Still though, Phoebe couldn't decipher why she couldn't stop bothering herself with Raine, with all the things the guy had told her and the rest of it that remained untold, she was indeed occupied.

Why, Raine? What is really the matter?, she kept asking herself.

"Phoebe Honey, when you're done with your meal, go wash up right away. We can't make Mrs. Anne wait.", Carl said, not even lifting his head as his eyes glued on the screen of the laptop.

"Dad, can I exclude myself today? I'm not in the mood and the condition to take the cold head to head.", Phoebe admitted.

That was certainly true. Phoebe was already battling with so many things right at the moment, though most of them were invaluable, but still she was seriously not in shape for her parents' cruel plans today.

"You sick or something?", Carl asked, glancing over where his daughter was sitting.

"I-I'm not, but believe me I'll be sick in a moment."

His eyes darted across the table, making a direct hit as it pierced right through the target. Unfortunately for him, the target was an armored human artillery so at the end, it just fired back.

"Come on dad, are you serious? You don't know how hard it was for me to tag along on this crazy vacation trip whatsoever, and now I'm still required to do stuff which I've never agreed to in the first place?", she straightforwardly told her dad.

Her dad's eyes went back to skimming the page displayed on the screen of the laptop. "It's not a matter of you agreeing to everything we say."

Now, Phoebe was seriously getting sick. In all honesty, the unfairness of the setup was capable of destroying the limit of every kid her age, and in some rare cases, it would lead to anxiety which was never unheard. Phoebe had developed her own resiliency to it, gratefully. She was undeniably the living example of the impeccable ability of humans to adapt.

"I'm getting tired of this. I've been living my whole life saying nothing but 'yes' to both of you, why can't you spare me a single day at least once in your life?"

Carl halted reading, he closed the laptop then crossed his arms as he stared down her daughter. "Undergoing rebellious pace? That's quite late."

Phoebe rolled her eyes.

"You need exposure, and that's what we are giving to you. You can't live your whole life locked inside your room.", he continued.

"Oh yes, exposure. Exposure to death. You can't be serious. It makes sense if you tell me you've been doing all these for the sole purpose of annihilating me.", Phoebe retorted.

Carl sighed in defeat. There was no way he would win the argument, not with his daughter. "We've already made a promise to Mrs. Anne, don't you think it's quite rude to suddenly not appear?"