Loving Her Ways

Beginning

People see me as the ideal it girl of my generation. They like my engaging personality and natural beauty. Hence, at a young age, I became idolized and showered with endless praise. As I grew up, I slowly became a socialite and the superior of my circle. I admit, it was pretty sweet being the leader of the pack. I've never faced criticism or bullying throughout my life because people couldn't bring themselves to do it.

They looked up to me and followed my lead like loyal puppies. Something about how I carried myself commanded respect and admiration from my peers. Maybe it was my confidence or knack for making others feel included. Whatever the case, one thing's for sure: walking in my shoes certainly had its perks when it came to sidestepping negativity.

My thirteenth birthday ended last week, August nineteen. I received a lot of gifts from my family and other people. I like to believe that my life is perfect because of the happiness I felt at that moment. Although I caught people's interest by my appearance, the name I was carrying also played an important role. I loved my life this way; with my famous family name, loving parents, and enough wealth. I couldn't wish for more.

However, this greatness comes with a dark side. Growing up in a society that places tremendous weight on appearances has undoubtedly shaped me into the person I am today–constantly conscious and apprehensive about my public image. Whether it's the glossy magazine covers showcasing seemingly perfect individuals or the continuous stream of curated lives on social media, there is an unspoken pressure to meet certain standards. It often feels as if every move and word I make is being analyzed and scrutinized by unseen eyes.

Hence, I've become instinctively concerned with how others perceive me, constantly wary of saying or doing something that might tarnish my carefully crafted persona. I could never let anyone bring me down. I didn't want to lose this beautiful life. Sometimes, I mindlessly belittle others who don't fit my world. Sometimes, I do it to satisfy myself and impress my friends with my authority to control others. No one was brave enough to question me because they could never reach my level.

"Dad, where are we going again?" I asked because it slipped my mind.

Today was Saturday, and they asked me to go on a trip with them. At first, I didn't want to go because I initially had to do something today with my friends. When they told me this trip was planned for me, I gave in and immediately prepared. We got stuck in traffic which was fine with me. I brought a new makeup set with me; I got this from one of the gifts. I badly wanted to try it on, so I busied myself experimenting with it while we were on the way.

Mom answered instead, "In a private facility, Serin."

"Huh, why?" I chuckled.

I had no idea why they would let me visit a private facility. I never even went into one. I couldn't also think of reasons why. Now I want to go back.

"You'll know once we're there," Dad said.

They assured me with a smile, yet I wasn't convinced. It actually creeped the hell out of me. Hindi ko na natuloy pa ang ginagawa kanina nang napansing sa probinsya pa yata kami patungo. Hindi nila ako sinabihan kanina kung saan pero sumama ako dahil hinanda raw nila para sa akin. Ngayong nakikita kong hindi ito simpleng surpresa lamang, para bang nagsisisi na akong sumama.

"Uh, nasa province?" I asked.

"Yes, somewhere in Bulacan," Mom said.

"What kind of facility is it, Mom?"

"It's a private prison, Serin," Dad answered.

"Po? Wait lang, kinakabahan tuloy ako. Am I going to jail?"

I didn't mean it as a joke–I was genuinely worried–but it made them laugh. They cracked more jokes surrounding that topic. However, those temporary distractions weren't enough to calm my mind. I observed the emotion kept in their eyes, and it scared me.