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Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Inception- Christopher Nolan does.
Ariadne aged 16
I sighed and rolled my eyes. I never really cared when mama and papa were fighting. I did care when it was about me.
"I can't believe that you're doing this to me!" mama yelled.
"Ariadne is our daughter! She's grown up!"
"I'm not letting her just wonder off to Paris!"
"That's what she wants!"
I sighed and stood up. Papa was happy for me when I told him I was going to move to Paris. He had always wanted to go there. Sure, we lived in a nice town in Bourdoux, but I wanted something new, something exiting. I wanted to work and study in Paris. I turned to them and cleared my throat. At that point, they both turned and looked at me.
"Mama, this is what I really want." She scoffed and rolled her eyes. I was getting angry.
"Oh yeah, what do you think you're gonna do out there?" I straightened my clothes.
"I want to study architecture." She laughed in my face. Papa rubbed his nose with his fingers.
"What? Just because you can draw a couple of pictures dosn't mean you can be an architect!" I could feel my face reddening. She had never supported me in anything. Now that I want to do something with my life, she was denying me of my right?
"I can do it." I said, trying to sound convincing. She came closer to me and pointed her finger in my face.
"You can't do anything. You can't even take care of yourself!"
I pushed her back. I was a bit shocked at myself for pushing my own mother, but my face remained straight.
"You never took care of me! You know what? I'm glad! The one child you did take care of fucking died in it's sleep!"
I froze. I didn't mean to say that. I looked at papa who dropped his hand in shock. I looked at mama who's eyes were filling with tears. I felt my heart sink with guilt. That guilt was lost when I felt a sharp blast of pain on my face. My mother had hit me.
I staggered back. It was quiet. I quickly ran out of the kitchen and ran into my room, locking the door behind me. I could hear the fighting downstairs progress. Ignoring the sting of tears in my eyes, I grabbed a suitcase and started packing. I grabbed my passport and documents. I rumaged through my desk until I found the letter of acceptance to a college in Paris. I grabbed my jacket and lugged the suitcase downstairs.
I was about to open the front door, but it was slammed in my face. I turned around you see my mother with tears streaming down her face.
"You can't leave!" she yelled at me. I just shook my head.
"I am. I can't stay here anymore, and I'm sorry, but I just can't call you my mother." Papa appeared in the doorway and said nothing. He smiled at me, knowing that I was going to leave. My mother looked as if she was bitten by a snake. In that moment, I turned and ran out of the door. I got into the car, and drove to the airport.
I can't say I didn't cry. I did.