Parental guidance (standard:Psychological fiction, 2516 words)
Author: Lev821	Added: Dec 18 2024	Views/Reads: 19/5	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Parents know what's best for you, don't they? No really...don't they?

You might call me a successful entrepreneur, or businessman. A lot of
people would envy my position. I am in my late fifties, and you could 
call me a career-minded individual. My name is Tristram Foley. It used 
to be Gary, but Gary is a dull name. I didn't change it officially, 
just told new people I met, and they knew no different. I'm not the 
most attractive person you'll ever meet, but certainly not the worst. 
When I see myself in a mirror, I think maybe a seven out of ten. Some 
days an eight. I'm the type of person who looks like a doctor, or a 
bank manager. Slightly portly, balding, and always wearing a suit. I've 
spent most of my life in some form of work. 

I was a management consultant director at an international banking firm,
advising clients on all kinds of financial matters, such as pensions, 
savings, wealth management, and was in line to be appointed to the 
board of directors. I am not really one to tell of my successes. The 
fact that I was an accounts clerk at a medical institution. Or a senior 
business partner in an insurance firm. No, I'm not one to boast, but 
sometimes I just can't help it. As you could probably guess, my CV 
would run into many pages, and knowing my bank account runs into six 
figures would make many, many people very jealous. 

I can understand why, and who do I have to thank for where I am today? 

Of course, my parents. 

So where are they now? 

They are rotting in a care-home, and d'you know what? 

Good riddance. I hate my parents. I really despise them 

...and yet, I love them. 

You see, I was an only child, and what happens to those who are the only
offspring? They become mollycoddled. Wrapped in cotton wool, the 
absolute focus of parent's attention. Shaped and molded into the vision 
my parents wanted me to be. 

I know what's best for you. You must do well in school. Pass your exams.
Do as you're told. Don't get in with the wrong crowd. Don't talk to 
strangers. Do. Not. Talk. To. Strangers. They can be odd, and they can 
be idiots, and they could lead you astray. Fill your head with all 
sorts of rubbish. So when you're in school, do not mix with scruffy 
children, or loud-mouths, or ones with spots because you don't know 
where they've been. 

When you pass all your exams, you will then go on to higher education,
where you will study for all the top qualifications so you can apply 
for any job. A good job with a high salary. Maybe move into management 
positions, that sort of area. 

We don't want you coming out of university with something to embarrass
us. If somebody asked us, what does your son do? Imagine the shame of 
telling them he's on benefits. He stacks shelves. He's a cleaner. He's 
a traffic warden. No, we know what's best. You need to earn good money 
in this world, or you'll end up in a whirlpool like most other people, 
getting sucked down in the dregs of society. Having to scrape a living 
just to get by, to pay rent, to put food on the table, to pay bills, 
borrow money, pay interest, pay off loans. No son, that's not for you. 
You do well with your education and life will be so much easier. You've 
got to work for it though. So get your head down and pass those exams. 

So I did. I was a good boy, and did exactly as I was told. It's a brave
child indeed, who can defy their parents. 

I was a model pupil, and I received straight A's in all subjects, except
physical education, where I received a B plus. Dad wasn't entirely 
happy about that, but it was okay. 

So it was onto uni, where I discovered my passion for music. Classical
music mainly, and in particular the clarinet. I learned how to play, 
and joined the university orchestra, and told my parents that that's 
the direction I wanted to go, to be a classical musician. 

Silly me, I should have known. My parents balked at the idea. A


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