Partly Cloudy, 64°
You mustn’t think only of yourself, Ophelia. When the Homeland was under siege, we left for you, for YOU! We uprooted our lives to give you the opportunities we never had, and for you to become the world’s preeminent coloratura soprano.
Don’t look back! Your place is in Milan now. You are the last remaining hope of the family, and you must carry our name to the glory of the most revered operatic stage in the world. You have a gift, Ophelia, don’t forget that. You were born as the incarnation of greatness. Don’t squander that on laziness. This was your dream, Ophelia, it was OUR dream!
You can sleep when you’re dead. You mustn’t deny the world such talent, such a gift! I’m sure that if your grandmother had lived to see this back in the Homeland, she would be brimming with such pride. To think, our little Ophelia, on the grandest stage in the world! It would have made all the suffering worth it for her.
I heard you say that you just don’t enjoy singing, but darling, we can’t always enjoy our destinies. You and your voice were put on this Earth to give us a new life, a better life, and you mustn’t jeopardize our best chance at survival. Think of your poor sister!
If you won’t do it for us, do it for yourself. Do it for the glory that is owed to you. Do it for the Homeland.
