my father has been drowning goldfish in the lake: forces me to clean the windows, take the trash down to a ridge over the wasteland, draw a graph of the supply-and-demand of our business, then refill the fish tank

my mother has been having flashbacks to her wedding: tells me not to play in the street, reduces me to rubble during a bombing, has me write a paper outlining the culture across the sea, then tells me never to get married