Future Reflection (Part. 2)

Thursday.

February 13th.

I, Cloey Sebastiane, have no ideas on what I want to be in the future. That’s normal, but it’s pretty annoying.

I wonder what Anon wants to be...

My dad’s a high school principal, and my mom’s a florist, an interesting pairing, almost funny when you think about it. I wonder how they figured out what they wanted to do.

It was dinnertime. We were all gathered at the table, talking endlessly about our day, well, mostly my little brother talking endlessly.
It wasn’t until he finally settled down — after an animated story about some bug he found at the playground, that I had the chance to speak up.

“What made you want the jobs you have now?” I asked, picking at my food and speaking casually, not even looking up.

“I wanted to help make a school feel safe,” Dad said without missing a beat.

“Like, make it a better place?”

“Yeah…I know it’s not perfect yet, but the school’s changed a lot since I became principal.”

That was true. I wasn’t enrolled yet when he first took the job, but within a year or so, the school was practically unrecognizable from the disaster it used to be, a place so bad that people avoided it if they could.

“Plus, it was the only school we could realistically send you to," he added. "So of course, I had to make it the best I could for you.”

Now I feel guilty. It’s not like my school life is bad because of the school itself, I’m just an antisocial loser. Sorry, Dad.

While I was internally apologizing for my entire existence, Mom seemed to get lost in thought, almost trying to remember how she ended up where she was.

“How I became a florist...right, dear?” she said, throwing a playful glance at Dad.

He looked away, clearly flustered. “I wonder…”

Mom gently tapped the inside of her palm with her fist, as if the gesture would bring the memory back.

“I think I remember now!” she said.

Dad visibly flinched.

“You see, sweetie, I’ve always loved plants. I guess you could say I had a green thumb.”
Her slight accent peeked through when she said green thumb.

“So, I had your father help me with a little garden I was starting. He was a complete beginner, but it was nice seeing him try so hard.”

Dad stayed silent, probably wishing he could vanish into thin air.

“After a while, our little garden actually started to thrive. And then one day, your father gave me a bouquet, orchids, miniature roses, and gardenias.”

“He grew them himself?” I asked, surprised.

“Not only that, those flowers are notoriously difficult to grow. And he did it all for me.”

Dad finally let out a long-held breath. He must have been dying of secondhand embarrassment from hearing his own love story recounted in full detail.

“That’s when I realized I wanted to work with flowers for a living,” Mom finished with a smile.

Dad seized the moment to change the subject. “Speaking of which, why are you asking all of this? Do you have a job you're interested in?”

“Not exactly. Just curious. Nothing really interests me right now.”

“What about hobbies?” he asked.

I paused. Sure, I had interests, but nothing impressive. Definitely not anything I'd want to proudly announce at the dinner table. No way I was admitting I wanted to be a YouTuber if it meant social death.

I simply shook my head. It wasn’t a surprising answer.

Dinner wrapped up shortly after. I helped clear the table, then retreated to my room, lost in my own thoughts.

Mom had her passion for plants, one that blossomed with Dad’s help. Dad wanted to change something for the better and actually did.
But me? What do I even have?

I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.

What do I have?
It feels too late to suddenly be ambitious. Not that I was aiming high to begin with.

I sighed.

I need to figure this out sooner or later. Eventually, I'll be thrown into the real world. I’ll need a goal. Something.

“How annoying,” I muttered.

I wondered again what Anon had in mind. Probably something easy...something with AC.

My thoughts blurred as sleep slowly took over, preparing me for another long, endless day.