2
[Story One: Ten–Year–Old Doodles – She
Said Raising Me Was Hard, So I Couldn’t Be a
Bum]
“What is this? I’m asking you, what is this?!”
Mom’s yelling made my ears ring.
She shoved my little drawing in my face,
grabbing the back of my head to make me
look at it.
<
“I work twelve hours a day so you can go to
school and have a good future!”
“Instead of doing your homework, you draw
this useless crap. What are you trying to do?
Do you even care about your father and
me?!”
She crumpled the drawing into a ball and
threw it on the floor.
“You want to study? Fine! You don’t want to?
Just say so. We’ll pretend we never had you!”
I cried, grabbing her sleeve, “Mom, I’m sorry! I
won’t draw anymore! I’ll do my homework, I’ll
study hard! Please don’t abandon me!”
“Study? You don’t know the first thing about
studying!”
Mom ripped up my homework.
“You love to draw, huh? Go ahead and draw!
I’m done with you!”
The bedroom door slammed in my face with a
“bang!” followed by the sound of the lock
The little girl cried until her voice was hoarse,
picking up the ripped pieces of homework
from the floor, trying to smooth them out with
her hands, scribbling with her pencil, one tear
for every word.
Late that night, a hand gently stroked my
head, waking me from my sleep.
Mom looked at the homework and smiled
softly.
“That’s more like it. Mommy was just
stressed, but it’s all for your own good.”
“If you did your homework, Mommy wouldn’t
have to act like that.”
“Your father and I work hard to give you
everything; you can’t let us down, okay?”
I nodded.
The camera zoomed in on the drawing of the
little girl nodding. I looked up at the camera
and smiled.
“After that I never dared to draw at home
く
again.”
I put the “trash” away and took out a small
bell from the tin box.
I opened a fresh sketchbook.
