Pressure

The sun casts a pallid glow on the lawn of the cemetery. It seems as though the entire
town of Clifton has gathered to mourn the passing of a cherished young girl. This is the way in
which all town events take place. Everyone who has ever laid eyes on Emmery is in attendance.
The women in their oversized black hats huddle in groups, pretending to weep and grieve.
Mostly, they cast quivering glances upon the Miller family. Before that gloomy November
morning, the family had seemed untouchable. The father was a successful lawyer and a pillar of
the community. Born and raised in Clifton, Daniel Miller represented the epitome of a town hero
with his warm eyes and gentle gaze. What the town could not see was the gaze he cast upon his
wife and children behind closed doors, a particular look that told his family he was watching,
analyzing, criticizing.
Mr. Miller held his family in very high regard and had great expectations for his two
children. Jonathan, the eldest child, would of course take over his fathers practice; there was no
discussion regarding this decision. Emmerys future, however, was bright and uncertain. Of
course she would be valedictorian of her class, but Mr. Miller left the rest of her future open for
her own discovery. This was not enough to save their relationship when things began to fall
apart.
A murmur of stifled cries is heard throughout the entirety of the ceremony. Mr. Miller
comforts others, as if they are hurting more than he. Even in times of unimaginable sorrow, Mr.
Miller supports the town. Yet, those who need him the most stand to the side. Mrs. Millers red,
tired eyes are hidden behind black sunglasses as Jonathan stands frozen, like the stone graves
that surround him.

The town of Clifton spent countless hours attempting to unravel the enigma that was the
Miller familys downfall. Was school simply too heavy a burden for poor Emmery? Were the
parents fighting at home? There was only one person outside of the Miller family that had any
clue about the events that had taken place last autumn. Although Ms. Morris was an
inexperienced teacher, she had enough experience to recognize when a child was struggling.
New to Clifton, Ms. Morris was not familiar with the simple way in which the town functioned;
people went about their daily lives gossiping about others, refusing to do anything about issues
that mattered, and keeping their own problems safely tucked away out of sight. Ms. Morris did
not see things this way and after months of watching her most diligent student wither away, she
contacted Emmerys parents. Mr. Miller was shocked to say the least. Emmery was known for
her bright, bubbly personality. How could she possibly be depressed, even with all of the beauty
she had in her life? Mr. Millers answer: she was not depressed. She simply could not be.
Perhaps he was in denial, or maybe he just had too much pride to comprehend the truth of his
daughters mental state.
The ceremony draws to a close, paralleling the setting sun. The pain and sorrow is
manifest in the eyes of the Miller family, but the bitterness and regret is obscure. No one
understands the extent to which Emmerys suicide affects the family. Behind the patriarchs
assured gait and weary expression is a broken man. A man who had, ultimately, denied his
daughter the nourishment and support she needed most. He had deteriorated in those three
months, perhaps even more so than Emmery. It was not until Emmery was gone that the
despondent father discovered what his daughter truly needed, what humanity needs; we are all
yearning for others to love us unconditionally, and we are all seeking genuine guidance from
others.

Mr. Miller laid awake at night out of concern for his little girl. He knew that he placed
pressure on her to prosper in school and be a leader in the community, but he only wanted to see
her succeed. He wanted to be the father that he never had, the kind of father that cares. But,
perhaps he cared too much or Emmery cared too much or the whole world cared too much.
Emmery was drowning in the pressure and mundanity that consumed her life, and all her father
could do was sit back and watch. Ultimately, he decided the right thing to do for his precious
daughter was to throw her into a group of friends and crowd her schedule with extravagant social
events. Nothing could cure depression like a sparkly new dress and a sweet sixteen birthday
bash. At least this was the mindset of Mr. Miller, and, being the patriarch of a seemingly
prosperous family, he had final say in the matters of his children and their happiness.
The family returns to the comforts of their home, not too big but not too small. It is eerily
quiet, but then the Miller household was always quiet. Mrs. Miller cooks a hot meal, comfort
food at its finest. Jonathan collapses at the cherry wood table, followed by the remaining family
members. Dinner progresses as always. There is strawberry shortcake patiently waiting to be
passed around. It is as if nothing has changed. It is as if succulent steak followed by a sweet treat
can heal torn hearts. It is as if the family is still perfect, free of all misery and defilement. So
Jonathan, what grade did you receive on your AP Calculus Exam?