The Greatest Guidance Counselor by Mahogany Martin
Being an only child is pretty great. You never have to share anything. You are the only thing that is important your parents. All they care about is you.
That’s not really how it was in my case, though. Both of my parents were very elite people. My father ran a very successful business, and my mother was the Vice President of Bank of America and occasionally assisted my father in the finances of his business.
They didn’t really have much time for me. I was raised by our maid, Matilda. She was really sweet and old, so it’s not like I didn’t disapprove of her. She took the role of my mother all of my life.
I felt like there was something missing, though. I really felt this in my middle school years. I was in the eighth grade, and I finally got all A's on my report card. I was so ecstatic to tell my parents, especially because they scolded and punished me for my academic performance 9 weeks ago (I got 3 B's).
My house was so big that you could lose people in it. The longest time I spent without ever seeing my parents was 3 days. That day, though, I was on a very important mission to find them. Whenever I did, they were very busy. My father was on the phone and my mother was typing violently on the computer. I was scared. Disrupting my parents during work hours meant your immediate doom, so I decided to wait it out.
I suppose that day they made a really large deal with another company and they were really happy about it, at least that’s what Matilda told me. They threw a house party that night with the members of my dad’s company as a celebration, and I didn’t see them at dinner. I wanted to tell them before a lot of people showed up for the night, and I figured they were already happy. This would just be another thing to please them.
When I arrived downstairs to the open kitchen, they were already drinking with some friends. I didn’t see this as a big deal, considering they drink a lot. It was stressful running the business, so they had to drink every now and then. Matilda was standing with me just in case anything happened.
They didn’t even let me get a word in. They told me how disappointed they were in me. They were ashamed of me. Mother said she wished she had a boy so they could get someone smart enough to run the business when they died. I knew it was the alcohol talking, and I know they probably thought it was just a joke, but tears welled up in my eyes. They threw bottles at me before Matilda rushed me upstairs. I heard them laughing while Matilda tucked me in bed, assured me that my parents loved me, and kissed me on the forehead. I didn’t believe her for a second.
I was even more scared of my parents since that night, so I tried to avoid them as much as possible. I remember rushing upstairs in my room and crying in the closet after school from the days on. I had Matilda, but I was so alone.