a/n: Okay, little feels ahead. And if something looks familiar, it is not mine.
Oh Yis, and we left off with Cewong seeing a fox fly and realizing she slept in a cave.
Silently, Cewong scaled the tree outside her house, hoping that no one would see her. To no avail, she tried to control her panting after sprinting three or four miles to get home.
CrapCrapCrapCrapCrapCrap...she chanted internally, perched on a branch outside her window and taking hideous, gasping breaths. She glanced at her watch, her panic increasing when she saw that it was already ten thirty. Hopefully, the long night out would keep her parents from waking up too early.
Cewong haphazardly scrambled through the window and slung her bag to the ground, pausing in alarm when she heard a tiny intimation of footsteps touching the ground down the hall. Hastily, she ripped off her clothes and kicked off her shoes, managing to slip into the covers of her bed right as a bedraggled head poked through the door.
"Hon?" asked her mother, carefully opening the door of Cewong's room.
"Yeah?" replied Cewong, nervously peeking from beneath the covers. Hopefully, her mother won't notice the twigs and mud tangled in her hair.
"Cewong, can you be honest with me?" sighed her mother, moving to sit at the foot of the bed. Cewong surreptitiously scooted a bit further away with an uncomfortable sinking feeling in her chest.
"Yeah, mom, what's up?" she asked, leaning back and not quite meeting her mother's eyes.
"Cewong, were you out of the house last night?"
"Er...Yeah."
That's why I wasn't in the house, mother.
"When did you come home?"
"Uh….after you guys fell asleep?"
"We didn't fall asleep."
"Oh. Errrrm...I didn't mean to make you worri-"
"Honey, what's the matter with you?" asked her mother, moving closer, "You've been withdrawn and dishonest with us for so long now! Your father and I are very worried."
"Nothing's wrong." said Cewong through gritted teeth.
Except for the fact that I have no freedom, nope, nothing's wrong…
"Something is, or else you wouldn't be like this!" said her mother somberly, "We've tried everything to make you happy! We've done whatever we can to give you a comfortable life! What else can we do? Tell us, you're obviously not happy right now!"
"You could've left me my dream journal." muttered Cewong petulantly, "That was only like, the most important thing I've ever created."
"Cewong." said her father's stern voice, causing her to snap her head up in alarm. He stood in the doorway, with his arms crossed and a stiff face, the only emotion betrayed by a slight furrow of worry on his brow.
"What." said Cewong, glancing away.
"Be respectful to your mother."
"Be respectful to me." mumbled Cewong in response, then added, "And to my personal stuff."
"Your 'personal stuff' was perverse, and detrimental to your well-being." said her father, with a hint of impatience, "It was ruining your mind and your relationship with you parents and your peers."
"Well, it made me happy!" said Cewong, "And it wasn't hurting you!"
"It was, Cewong. It was hurting you and us and everyone around you." said her mother sadly, "You were withdrawing to your room and sleeping all the time, and not making contact with anybody. Where were you? Why were you always tired?"
"That was because school was stressful."
"Cewong, you were not in honors classes, and you managed averagely high grades with little effort." said her father, "School was obviously not the problem. Was it your friends? Was it a bully? If there was anyone who was-"
"It was me, okay?" she said impatiently, "It has nothing to do with either of you, or my friends, or anything."
Her mother glanced backwards, exchanging a look with her father. "Cewong...your father and I have been talking, and..."
Uh oh. This couldn't be anything good.
"...And we think you have schizophrenia and depression."
"What!? I'm normal! I was making myself perfectly happy!" said Cewong indignantly.
"Do not take that tone with your mother."
"Sorry." she muttered, not looking the least bit repentant.
"We've signed you up for therapy sessions."
"WHAT!?" snapped Cewong, "I don't need to talk to some lady that costs a fortune. I need to have freedom!"
"Honey, we've given you so much space." cried her mother, "We've given you time to try and heal yourself, but you insist on hiding away and obsessing over these unhealthy ideas of...of...bending and-"
"So you think talking to a stranger will actually help?" said Cewong glumly.
"It may, considering that you don't talk to us, or your friends." sighed her father, "In fact, you don't have friends, since you've pushed everyone away."
"I'm sorry, okay father? I just don't like being social."
"From what we've seen, you spend plenty of time talking to your imaginary friends-"
"They're not imaginary! Wait, no, crap, I mean-"
But this only made her parents widen their eyes even further.
Crap! Why the heck did I say that?
"-I'm not serious!" she said a little desperately.
"Cewong...just, please give the therapy a try." said her mother pleadingly, "Please. It's so painful to watch you slip away-"
"Mom. You don't have to say it." interrupted Cewong, looking down in with an overwhelming sense of guilt.
"We only want to protect you." sighed Cewong's father.
"I know, I know." said Cewong.
"Your sessions start the day after tomorrow." said her father.
"Okay, I kind of have homework now." mumbled Cewong sullenly.
"Alright." said her mother, opening her mouth like she wanted to say more, before closing it again.
"Seriously, I'll be okay." said Cewong, trying to force out a smile, "I'll try harder now. I'll be happy!"
Her parents didn't buy it.
But they did exit the room, with all the usual phrases of "we love you" and "rest up" and "don't be too upset about this" and "remember that you have school tomorrow".
Softly, the lock clicked behind them and Cewong could hear their hushed, fretful voices fading as they walked down the hallway. She slapped her hands over her face and vigorously rubbed her eyes with her palms.
If only my nosey parents never found out about-
Cewong immediately felt another wave of guilt and she derailed that train of thought. She sighed and slumped back in her bed, feeling ashamed at how she'd been behaving for the past few...well...years. Everyone had been nothing but kind to her, so why couldn't she just accept it and be happy? Why couldn't she just live in the real world instead of going off to her dreams of imaginary people and fake power?
She curled up further into her bed, reflecting on what could have made her turn out this way, and her conclusions amounted to...nothing. She literally had no excuses to be such a freak.
She was born into an upper middle class family, she went to an excellent public school in a great community, her parents loved her and got along perfectly, and gave her everything she needed, and she had a great group of friends. Her life was the perfect, priceless image of the ideal suburban life. So why? Why did it all start to begin with?
Sighing, Cewong forced away her oncoming headache. She dragged herself out of bed and pulled out some scrolls and textbooks from her backpack, putting the depressing thoughts behind her. Perhaps doing homework would make her feel better.
a/n: That was actually not as feelzy as I wanted it to be. Oh well. This will probably end up being a filler anyways.
Also, the society in this fic might turn out to be what I imagined Asia to be if it had industrialized on its own instead of under the influence of the west.