Their Perfect Daughter

I look at the mirror, staring at once the young girl she was. The perfect little daughter she used to be before freedom and independence took over and fed into her temptations.

Does mom know that I embrace the curly hair she had when she so desperately tried to hide it when she was younger? My soft curls bounced around as I gently pulled one of them to watch it coil back up.

Does dad know I could not control my anger issues like him when I thought I could do better? I visibly scrunch my face in McDonalds, watching them wasting my time on just an ice-cream that I had still not received.

Does mom know I did not in fact inherit her fast metabolism and have to work out everyday? I look at my nonexistent ab lines day to day, glad I atleast got it flat enough.

Does dad know that I did not in fact inherit his love for cooking or the skills? The simple golden brown French toast I tried to make is now black. I wait for the frying pan to cool down in the sink, drowning in cold cold water.

Does mom know that I can't handle stress as well as she did? I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, shutting every emotion ever. Complaining and grumbling about the job I desperately prayed to get years ago.

Does dad know that 'study for you not for me' quote he said isn't applicable to me? I stare at my perfectly done essay at 3am, anything for extra credit. Anything for my parents.

Does my parents know that I did not inherit any of their good qualities and I failed to control the bad ones? Do they know that I know I'm not the perfect daughter they deserve for the years of hardwork and late night project doings they spent on me? Do they know their smiles and hope makes me teary eyed? Do they know I'm trying to not become the disappointment they were afraid about? A smile dawns on me when I heard my phone ring, the callers being my parents.