Take off your Hijab (Rewriting)

I Don't Want To Know What Forever Looks Like✅

"Everyone has that one thing that drags them down but not everyone has the strength to get back up, I really do hope that you all end up finding yours..."

Zach's POV

I closed the door as quietly as I could, slipping inside the dark house like a shadow of some kind, pretending or rather imaging myself to be a ninja when suddenly, out of nowhere, a weight like a bag of cement crashed into me, making my body hit the door with a bang. Making me mentally facepalm at the realization that I've officially been caught sneaking back in, it turns out my plan has failed. so now, I would have to face the inevitable... lecture about how I should never try Storming out of the house whenever I'm on the verge of having a mental breakdown without telling anyone about where my whereabouts would be again.... How Wonderful of a scolding that would be!.

"Oh my goodness, Zach! Please never do that again; we were so worried about you," Camila scolded, her voice trembling with fear. The concern in her eyes made guilt and shame flood over me, but beneath that, a darker current of frustration surged. I nodded obediently, trying to push down the rising tide of emotions. I glanced behind her, expecting to see my equally worried grandma, but my smile faded when I met someone else's gaze. It wasn't my grandma; it was him.

The resemblance was uncanny, to the point where it almost made my stomach churn. My breath hitched as my eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, I felt like I was spiraling once more.

The sharpness of his jawline, the familiar curve of his lips—features that should have been comforting but instead were a source of dread for me, a reminder of some sort

Because every time I had to look into the mirror, I saw alot of traces of him staring back at me. It was a haunting reminder that no matter how much I tried to distance myself from this...from him,  I couldn't escape the shadow of my father, one that keeps on staring back at me except those times in the mirror he had blue eyes instead of his usual hazel green....

.....however it didnt make me feel better....

Because that ocean blue eyes that usually stared back at me every time i looked in the mirror was a gift that i had thankfully gotten from my mother, one of the few things she was willing to give... me, one that was also heading towards becoming a curse of reminder for me.

And there He- my father stood behind my elder sister, almost looking as if he was right where he originally belonged from day one but in reality, his entire presence felt like an intrusion of some sort, to the point where my brain tries to search for reasons on what was wrong.

It was like staring into a twisted fantasy, which had a version of myself, a reflection and illusion for myself that I desperately wanted to shatter. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

"What is he doing here?" I asked, narrowing my eyes, my voice cold as ice. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I fought to keep my composure.

"He, uh, he came here to see you," Camila said cautiously, as if bracing for my reaction. But I just stared at her blankly, a familiar numbness settling in. It was almost suffocating, knowing that the man who had caused us all so much pain shared my features, my blood. It made me want to tear my own face off, just to escape the constant reminder of him.

"Well, tell him to go back from where he came from because I don't want to see him," I said, ignoring the pained look on his face. It was almost a sick satisfaction, seeing him hurt. He deserved every bit of it for all the years of neglect and lies. A part of me enjoyed watching him squirm, but another part felt disgusted—disgusted with him and disgusted with myself for feeling this way.