It had been a whole week since I last saw Michael, and every passing day without him felt like a weight pressing down on my chest. The days were a blur of exhaustion, work immersion at the COMELEC office, pouring over our research, and the looming pressure of graduation just two weeks away. My brother, who had always been my steadfast supporter, was coming home with his wife. Since both my sister and I were about to graduate, the whole family was naturally set to gather.
Time slipped past in a whirlwind, and soon I found myself sitting in the living room with them. The joyous surprise spread like wildfire when Ate Nia announced she was pregnant....expecting twins, no less! Happiness bloomed quietly in my heart despite the turmoil lurking beneath.
Ate Nia's hand rested gently on her round belly as she smiled softly. "We wanted to tell everyone together," she said, looking around the room.
My mother beamed, eyes shining. "Twins? That's double the blessing! We're so happy for you both."
I smiled too, though a bit faintly. Michael's face lingered in my thoughts even as we celebrated.
As I prepared to step into college life after graduation, our family gathered around the dining table to discuss the future. One of my cousins spoke up excitedly, "Angelica, you should definitely apply for that scholarship in Apayao. It's a great opportunity."
My mother nodded firmly. "Yes, that's a good plan. It will open doors for you."
I glanced up, fingers nervously twisting the edge of my sleeve. "I'll try my best... but it's so far."
My sister squeezed my hand, offering a reassuring smile. "We'll all support you."
I nodded, trying to steady my swirling thoughts. It felt good to have them by my side, even if uncertainty gnawed at me.
The days leading up to the trip were filled with hurried preparations and hushed conversations. Our mother made it clear she wanted my sister and me to be well taken care of. "Your brother and his wife will look after you both. You'll be safe with them," she said, her voice soft but resolute.
I knew my brother wasn't exactly supportive of me in the way he was with my sister. There was always a distance between us, like I was some obligation rather than family. The trip was as much about taking his wife back to his roots as it was about my scholarship plans.
The morning before the trip, he mentioned quietly, "I want to show my wife where I grew up. It's important she knows the place."
Our mother nodded approvingly. "I trust you'll both watch over your sisters while you're there."
The day of the trip arrived. The air was thick with silent tension as we packed into the vehicle. My brother drove, exchanging casual conversation mostly with his wife, pointing out landmarks, recounting childhood memories I'd never heard.
I watched them from the back seat. "I guess this is his chance to reconnect… but what about me?" I wondered bitterly.
My sister leaned towards me, whispering softly, "Just hang in there, Angelica."
The countryside breezed past as the hours wore on. My stomach turned the longer we drove.
"I think I'm going to sleep for a while," I finally said, resting my head against the window.
My brother glanced back briefly, his eyes unreadable. "Get some rest. We'll be there soon," he said, but his tone felt more mechanical than caring.
The car rumbled over the uneven roads approaching Apayao, each bump rattling not only the vehicle but also my nerves. When we finally arrived, I stared in confusion at the small, simple house nestled amid the trees—a place I'd never seen before. Being new to the place, I expected my brother to accompany us, but that night, he and his wife left us with one of our relatives.
My brother turned to us with a clipped tone. "This is where you'll be staying tonight. Our relatives live here."
I blinked, surprised. "But… we don't even know them."
He shrugged, indifferent. "That's where you'll stay. Me and your Ate Nia have more important things to do."
My heart sank as a cold wave of frustration swept over me. "You're leaving us here? Just me and Sunshine? Alone?"
His jaw clenched, and he shot me a sharp look. "Yes. It's not like you'll die. You'll be fine."
His wife avoided my gaze completely. I could feel the tension between all of us thickening like the humid air around the house.
My sister reached out and squeezed my hand, but it did little to quell the fire of anxiety burning in my chest.
I slammed the car door behind me, the sound harsh against the quiet surroundings. "I can't believe you're doing this."
They didn't respond. Instead, they drove away, leaving us standing awkwardly in front of this unfamiliar home.
Inside, the relatives greeted us with polite smiles and curious glances, strangers who suddenly shouldered the responsibility of two girls they barely knew. The night stretched long, the silence in the house growing heavy and unfamiliar.
After wrapping up our business, we started the journey home. The road was uneven and riddled with potholes, each jolt shaking more than just the vehicle—it rattled my already frayed nerves. I felt the exhaustion settle deep in my bones. When we finally reached home, the silence between us was heavier than ever. I barely spoke a word, retreating into my shell unless someone directly spoke to me.
Three days later, the house buzzed with warmth that felt foreign to me. From the kitchen, the sound of laughter and clinking dishes drifted blissfully—my family sharing a meal, wrapped in their own little world. Meanwhile, I was in the other room, scrubbing and tidying, a quiet observer in my own home. Being the black sheep wasn't new; I'd grown accustomed to the space I kept from them.
When I stepped into the kitchen to get the broom, lost in my thoughts, my elbow brushed against the plug of the electric fan. It slipped from the socket with a soft pop, stopping the fan's hum instantly. Wearing my headphones, I didn't catch my brother's sharp shout behind me. I remained oblivious, carrying the broom back to my room.
Suddenly—pain. A sharp, unexpected strike landed hard on my back. The impact echoed with a sting that pierced beyond flesh. I stumbled, my headphones tumbling off, the music cut in an instant. Shock paralyzed me. The overwhelming tide of pain unleashed a flood of tears—I couldn't stop crying, my sobs drowning out his angry words that I couldn't hear but felt.
Blinded by anguish, I fled, my vision blurred by tears and heartache. I ran without direction until I found myself standing hesitantly before Michael's house. The familiar comfort of his home called to me. Without pause, I pushed open the gate and stepped inside.
There he was, quietly washing dishes, his movements calm and steady. His parents were away, but having him here felt like a lifeline. Overcome, I fell to my knees before him, the weight of everything crashing down in waves.
"Angelica, what's wrong?" His voice was gentle, filled with concern.
I tried to speak, but words failed me. Tears streamed freely as he crouched beside me, pulling me into a warm embrace. Minutes stretched, silence holding us until I found the courage to speak.
"Remember when I told you once that you and your family felt like home," I whispered, voice fragile. He nodded, eyes kind and steady.
"I never really knew what home was... not until I met you all."
He tightened his embrace, and I sobbed harder, releasing years of pain. "Today, my brother hit me." My voice trembled. "I didn't even hear him shouting because my earphones were on... I just wanted to drown out their laughter while I cleaned. Then I accidentally unplugged the fan…"
His grasp never wavered. "My mother knew about the earphones, because she's looking at me....while my brother hit and shouted at me" I continued, struggling for steadiness. "I used to be full of life, cheerful. But when I was in fifth grade, my father slapped me so hard my nose bled." My tears renewed, tracing paths down my cheeks.
"In sixth grade, my mother hit me because she thought I wouldn't become an honor student." My voice cracked. "She said she wouldn't come to my graduation... but she came anyway because I was an honor student."
A brief smile flickered amidst the tears as I recalled happier times. "Seventh and eighth grade were better. I met Tim my first crush, my first boyfriend, and first ex boyfriend. We were happy for a while. But then everything changed."
The explosion of grief hit me all at once. "My parents divorced. Tim's parents divorced too. My father went to live with his parents, and for a while, I felt relief knowing my uncle was there. But then…" My words faltered, choking in my throat. "My uncle whom I trusted the most killed my father."
My breath hitched. "Tim and I broke up. Around that time, my mother sank into depression, her sister and papa died in the same month. She told me once... that I should have died instead of my father."
I swallowed hard, pain twisting deep within. "We couldn't even attend my dad's funeral. His family blamed us for the divorce... but it was their son—my uncle—I trusted who killed him."
A shivering breath escaped me. "I tried to find solace with friends, but my brother forbade me. So I isolated myself. I lost count of how many times I attempted to take my own life. My family never knew I was depressed and suicidal. Anime was my only solace."
Michael held me tighter, absorbing every word as if it were his own pain.
"In grade eleven, I found love again....long distance this time. I loved him deeply...I chuckled softly through my tears, the bitterness tangled with a fragile hope. "But he left. Without a word. Just… gone."
Michael's arms remained steady around me, a sanctuary amid the storm. "That's why when you told me you liked me, I panicked. I was terrified of losing someone again....especially you."
His grip softened, yet his eyes shone with fierce warmth. "Thank you," he whispered, a simple phrase that carried the weight of lifetimes.
Confused, I looked up. "Thank you?"
"For not giving up on life," he said, voice trembling. "For fighting through the darkness. And above all… for being here, alive."
His words struck deeper than I ever imagined. Slowly, the tears began to ease, replaced by a quiet, fragile peace.
Time slipped away unnoticed until sleep claimed me in his arms, my head resting on his steady shoulder. When I woke, the house was hushed, and Michael still slept peacefully beside me.
Careful not to wake him, I slipped away and left a note on the table:
I'm going home now. Thank you for listening...I wish I could stay longer. But I don't want them to think this is an escape. I've been controlled too long... I won't let it happen again.
Back at home, I kept my distance, except from my siblings, my true family in this fractured house. For the first time, I felt something like strength, a quiet promise to protect my own heart.