Where Spring Bends to Memory
To Zohi, the sweetness of this spring afternoon felt like a cruel joke. Rows of cherry blossoms lined the path, their pale pink petals drifting onto the pavement in a rhythmic dance—a scene ripped straight from a fairy tale. But inside, twenty-year-old Zohi felt like a sprawling grey wasteland.
She walked aimlessly, each step crushing the fallen petals beneath her feet, much like the way her childhood dreams had been trampled long ago. The further life goes, she thought, the tighter the knots become. She felt ensnared, standing at a crossroads where the power to choose between left or right had simply withered away.
Reaching a fork in the road, she came to a dead halt. Her life was mirrored in that split path. Until she was twelve, everything had been so clear, so transparent. But the cherished, quiet girl she once was had been swallowed by a twenty-year-old woman drowning in a silent, hollow ache.
Flashback: The Day the World Broke
The pages of memory flipped back to a late afternoon—the final day of primary school. It was supposed to be a day of celebration, a milestone. Both her parents had promised, faithfully, that they would be there.
But as she stood by the school gates, scanning the thinning crowd, she saw only her father standing alone. In that heartbeat, the air left her lungs.
The Sting of Betrayal
Her friend's voice sliced through the air like a blade. "Hey, Zohi, your mom didn't show up again? Well, I guess she's too busy with her 'dates' to care about school, right?"
The whispers that followed and the jagged, mocking smiles felt like they were burying her alive. The rumors of her mother's infidelity were an open secret among her peers—a shame Zohi had carried, cell by cell, for years. She couldn't take it anymore. Blindly, she reached out and grabbed her father's hand.
"Dad, where is she? She promised!" Her voice was thick, choked with unshed tears.
Her father tried to steady her, his voice a low, soothing hum. "She got caught up in something urgent, sweetheart. But I'm here. Come on, let's go home."
Zohi's mind recoiled in silent derision. Urgent? I know exactly where she is. She's with Uncle Xiangzi again.
The Breaking Point
The dam finally burst. Right there, in front of her father, she let out a sob that tore through her chest.
"I have to walk around with my head down because of the mess you two have made! You never cared about being good parents. You only ever thought about yourselves—never once about my dignity!"
Her father offered a pale, fragile smile, reaching out to comfort her. "Don't cry, Zohi. Tears aren't a solution. Some things in life are simply beyond our control. That's just how it is. Whether you face it or run from it... that's up to you."
His philosophical detachment tasted like poison. She didn't want wisdom; she wanted a mother. Consumed by a toxic mix of rage and humiliation, she bolted, leaving him standing there. His cries of "Zohi! Zohi!" faded into the distance, ignored.
The Birth of a New Zohi
Back home, she slammed her bedroom door, the sound echoing like a gunshot. She collapsed in the corner of the balcony, weeping until her throat was raw. When her father eventually returned, he stood outside her door, listening to the muffled sobs. He didn't knock. He believed this was a wound she had to cauterize on her own.
Inside the darkness of that room, a chilling resolve began to take shape. Her tears were drying, replaced by something cold and unyielding—a stone where her heart used to be. She began to whisper to the shadows:
"No more. I won't depend on anyone ever again. My parents gave nothing to my happiness, so I'll take it for myself. From the first day of high school, I will be someone else. I'll make friends, I'll fall in love if I want to, but I will never shed another tear for this family."
Zohi looked out the window as evening fell. The gathering dark didn't scare her; it gave her strength. She was no longer that fragile little girl waiting at a gate for a mother who would never come. She was the architect of her own life now.