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ASHIANNA
Ontario, Canada
"You never really learn, do you?” My dad grumbled, his voice thick with disappointment.
His eyes met mine through the rearview mirror, but I rolled my eyes and shifted my gaze to the passing scenery outside the window.
"The last time I picked you up from the police station, you were involved in an illegal street race," He continued, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
"And now—" I could feel his eyes boring into me, but I ignored him. "You've gone and damaged your classmate's car—"
I didn't let him finish as I slid my headphones on, his voice became a muffled hum in the background. I leaned back and closed my eyes, too exhausted to endure his scolding.
My life revolved around only two things: trouble and hatred. I was either at school, where I caused enough problems to get expelled, or at the police station. I barely spent any time at home.
I was the family's disappointment—the cold, distant daughter, the black sheep. And honestly, I couldn't even bring myself to call it a "family."
My father— His life revolved around business and wealth, not us. My twin brother and I barely knew each other. My mother was dead, that's why I hate her.
A deep sigh escaped my lips as the car rolled to a stop in front of our house. Without waiting for my dad to say another word,
I stepped out of the car and made my way inside. Just as I was about to head upstairs, a firm grip on my wrist stopped me in my tracks.
I turned around, irritated to see my dad glaring at me. I tugged my headphones down around my neck and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm still talking to you, Ashianna," He said through gritted teeth.
"What now, Dad?" I asked, feigning boredom. He took a deep breath, struggling to keep his patience in check.
"Pack your things," He ordered, his tone sharp and final.
I blinked, not sure I had heard him correctly. "Ano?" I turned to fully face him, yanking my wrist free.
"You can't be serious, Dad," I scoffed, stepping back. Already knowing what he wanted.
"Ayusin mo ang mga gamit mo," He repeated, the weight of his words sinking in. "You're going back to Manila. Ngayon din."
"No," I shot back, my voice firm, meeting his stare with equal intensity.
"I said—"
"Dad!" I yelled, cutting him off. The anger in my voice startled even me. "Gusto mo akong bumalik doon?" My voice trembled, and before I knew it, tears welled up in my eyes.
My dad's expression softened, the frustration melting away as he saw my reaction. Gently, he placed his hands on my shoulders. "Ash, anak..." His voice was quiet now, almost pleading.
I shook my head, my tears spilling over. "Don't make me do this," I whispered.
"I have to," He said softly. "You need to uncage yourself from the past, by facing the place where it all started."
Pero even as tough as I tried to be, beneath the mask, I was just a scared girl. I was terrified of going back to the place where my life had turned into a nightmare— a living hell at fourteen.
"I can't bear to see you like this, Anak. This isn't who you are." His eyes were full of concern as he wiped away my tears. "This is the only way I know to help you break through the pain. Please."
