Problems With A Happy Ending I looked at my father and he looked at me. 'Why did you do it?' he asked. Iburst out in anger, 'Why can't I do it?' Red with rage, he slapped me hard. I touched my burning cheek, staring hard at him, whose face was turned away from mine.
Then I noticed my mother sobbing beside him. I softened as my feelings overpowered me. I had never been slapped before. My parents had never tried to understand me and neglected me, like I was a child they had never wanted. They paid attention to me only when I asked for something and I got almost everything, except their love. They were always busy with work and I often reasoned with myself that they were doing this for a good life for me.
It was hard to believe that. I let out a sob of frustration, tears of sadness running down my cheeks. Being the richest among my friends, I showered them with gifts, a small price to pay for their constant companionship. However, they were troublemakers who tried to involve me with their misdeeds. I always managed to escape, being the innocent one, until now. They had convinced me to take my first cigarette and policemen nearby caught us.
I could not escape because of the cigarette's strong smell. It was a small offence to my friends, a big one to my parents and an eyeopener for me. My father was raged, my mother was crying, and I saw that they actually cared about my doings. They were concerned for me after all. With a hint of tears in his eyes, my father turned to my weeping figure and asked once again, in a warm voice, 'Why did you do it?' As I began to reveal my feelings, my mother hugged me and healed where it hurt the most.
I guess I did it to get their assurance of love for me.