Wounds Of The Hearts, Justice Of The Mind

Chapter 1

I was just 4 years old when I overheard my parents talking about biology—or rather, being a doctor. Both of them are doctors. My mom was a psychiatrist, and my dad, an anesthesiologist.

Ever since I was a kid, they've always told me that I should become a doctor too, like it was my path to follow, no questions asked.

That's what they wanted for me. They wanted me to become a doctor.

But... me? Did I want the same thing? No.

But it doesn't matter. They're my parents—of course, they should always have the final say.

"Isaiah, we need to talk," my dad called out.

I already knew what he wanted to discuss. It was about the same thing they've always brought up—what course they wanted me to take in college.

"Dad, I told you, I'm taking Political Science," I replied, my voice flat, uninterested.

And as expected, his expression shifted. Just a moment ago, he seemed so eager about whatever it was he wanted to say. Now, it was quickly replaced by anger.

"It's always this nonsense about wanting to be a lawyer, Isaiah! You're not going to get anywhere with that! Why can't you get it through your head? You're going to be a doctor! You will be a doctor! Do you understand?!"

"Dad, I've thought about it, but being a Doctor...it's not that I want. I don't belong in your world."

His expression did not change at all.

"You don't belong in our world..." He scoffed. "Isaiah, you are smart, capable of making antidotes... Why the need to doubt yourself?"

My heart raced, the familiar pain creeping in. Just hearing those words—"you won't get anything out of being a lawyer"—made me want to stomp my feet and talk back.

But of course, I'm his son, and he's my dad. Who am I to raise my voice at him?

This is the problem between kids and their parents, right? Just because you're the child, you're never really supposed to be right. They're the only ones allowed to speak up. And if you answer back, you're disrespectful. You're a failure of a child who doesn't know how to respect them.

It's frustrating, isn't it? They tell you to open up, but when you do, you're the one who ends up being wrong. And then you wish you hadn't said anything at all.

That's how messed up things can get with parents these days. You're lucky if you've got kind and understanding parents who actually listen. And I wish I had parents like that too.

I woke up with a pounding headache. After that conversation, Dad left for work, and I buried myself in studying just to keep busy. I can still remember everything we talked about. I can still hear the things he said to me.

How could I forget when it's what I've been hearing my whole life?

But once again, I brushed aside the thoughts weighing on my mind and got my things ready since I'd be heading to school soon.

I'm in my 11th grade now, a STEM student, and I've always ranked first in our school.

I don't really know if I'm gifted or not. People say I am, though—probably because even when I'm asleep during class discussions, I'm still the only one who can answer during oral recitations, even after snoozing through the whole lecture.

"Ang weird talaga nito ni Isaiah, laging tulog, tapos pag oral recitation, ang bilis magtaas ng kamay," one of my classmates said, jokingly raising her hand as well.

"Ganyan talaga 'yan kapag matalino. Si Isaiah na yan, e!" Lance added proudly.

I just nodded, like I was agreeing with what he said.