Cassandra Reid

I contemplate my figure in the mirror plunged into a deep silence. It seems that I am going to a funeral and not to my own wedding.

My parents haven't come, they haven't called. Apparently they have fulfilled their threat and I no longer exist for them.

I don't know why I expected them to show up even after two weeks. By now I should be used to their rudeness, claims, offenses and disappointments..., but it's not like that. Their indifference hurts and the words of that night continue to swarm in my head along with those they've said for years.

I have killed myself studying, I have survived alone in a foreign country and yet, they are only capable of seeing a runaway and rebellious daughter.

The day I fled from San Francisco, I knew perfectly well possible consequences of my actions and I was willing to accept them... Or so I thought.

Now I see that I always kept the hope that my parents would one day reconsider or at least understand my actions; but it seems that I wil