Wounds Of The Hearts, Justice Of The Mind

Chapter 2

I was pulled out of sleep by the sound of someone knocking on my door. I groggily opened my eyes, squinting against the morning light.

"Isaiah, bumangon ka nga dyan. We need to talk," Dad's voice came from the other side of the door.

Here we go again, I thought, pulling myself up from the bed. It was the same routine whenever he had something to say—and by now, I could guess what it was about. It's always about the future. About me. About his plans.

I dragged myself out of bed, running a hand through my messy hair. Opening the door, I found him standing there with his usual serious expression.

"Baba ka muna, mag-usap tayo," he said, turning on his heel and heading towards the living room without waiting for me to respond.

I sighed, following him downstairs. My heart was already racing, knowing what kind of conversation was about to happen.

When I reached the living room, Dad was sitting on the couch, arms crossed. I sat down across from him, trying to brace myself for the lecture I knew was coming.

"Isaiah, pag-usapan natin ulit 'yong mga plano mo sa buhay. Hindi ako natutuwa sa desisyon mong mag-political science," he began, his voice firm.

"Dad, we've been over this," I said quietly, not wanting to raise my voice but already feeling the weight of the argument coming.

"Alam ko, pero hindi ka pa rin nakikinig saakin. I don't want you to waste your potential. You're intelligent—more than that, you're exceptional. Bakit mo ipipilit ang pagiging lawyer? Hindi yan para sa'yo. You belong in medicine."

I clenched my fists, my mind racing. Here we go again.

"Pero, Dad—" I started, trying to find the right words.

"Isaiah, anak, ako ang tatay mo. I know what's best for you." His voice softened a little, but it didn't take away the pressure in his words.

It felt suffocating. Being told over and over what I should do, what path I should take. It wasn't about what I wanted. It was about what they thought was best. What he thought was best.

I swallowed, fighting the urge to argue. "Bakit hindi niyo po ako mapakinggan nang buo? Laging ganito—laging kayo lang ang tama."

Dad's expression hardened. "Hindi ka pa nakakaintindi ng buhay, Isaiah. Hindi mo pa alam ang mga pinagdadaanan namin para lang mabigyan ka ng magandang kinabukasan. Kung matututo ka lang makinig, magiging madali ito para sa'yo."

I stood up, unable to sit through another round of this. "Dad, gusto ko lang—gusto ko lang na masubukan yung gusto ko."

"Tumigil ka nga diyan," he said, standing as well. "Hindi ka pa handang gumawa ng desisyon para sa sarili mo."

I looked away, swallowing the lump in my throat. I wasn't going to win this argument. Not now. Not ever.

"Isaiah, hindi ko ginagawa ito para pahirapan ka. I'm doing this because I care about you," he added, his tone softening again.

But the words didn't comfort me. They only made the weight heavier. I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything else.

"Mauna na po ako. May kailangan pa akong tapusin sa school," I mumbled before quickly heading back to my room.

As soon as I closed the door behind me, I leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath. It felt like no matter how much I tried to explain, I was always wrong in his eyes. Always just the kid who didn't know any better.

Lying back on my bed, I stared at the ceiling, trying to clear my mind. But all I could think about was the pressure. The expectation. The future that didn't feel like mine.