Chapter 7
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His delicate hand wipe that drop of tear like it's so precious to him. I begin questioning my identity, am I really the daughter of the late Henry Sy? Or am I not? Could it be the real reason behind? That's why my cousins tortured me and my so called friends spread false accusations and rumors behind my back?
Am I an adopted child? And is it the main reason why they dislike my existence no matter how hard I try to please people. Is it the secret that everyone's been keeping from me? Is it the reason why their so called affection was synthetically used to fool me?
I never thought this day will come, that I'll be the one doubting my own identity, or the fake identity they've given me. I can't believe that my life is a living lie. I don't understand why they've tried hard to hide things from me before they left.
I can't help myself but drown into tons of questions that run endlessly. Who am I?
Why is this man calling me his sister for the hundredth time? What does he know? Why did he suddenly appear on time when I needed someone the most? Is he my real brother? Where are our parents and who were they?
Time is running.
Pretending to be asleep is just as hard as I thought. The puzzlement won't stop if I can't get someone who can answer everything. The only way to escape this maze is if I open my eyes, face the reality and accept the truth.
But am I ready for this? I am scared just thinking of the right answer to that question. Because I know deep down this curiosity is just the shallow part of what I want to know. And it's scaring me, knowing I might fall to the abyss of darkness and bewilderment.
I'll count again like what I used to do with that boy before. I'll count again.
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten…
I remembered that boy's face. But who was he?
With the thought of him my eyes flutter open.
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His delicate hand wipe that drop of tear like it's so precious to him. I begin questioning my identity, am I really the daughter of the late Henry Sy? Or am I not? Could it be the real reason behind? That's why my cousins tortured me and my so called friends spread false accusations and rumors behind my back?
Am I an adopted child? And is it the main reason why they dislike my existence no matter how hard I try to please people. Is it the secret that everyone's been keeping from me? Is it the reason why their so called affection was synthetically used to fool me?
I never thought this day will come, that I'll be the one doubting my own identity, or the fake identity they've given me. I can't believe that my life is a living lie. I don't understand why they've tried hard to hide things from me before they left.
I can't help myself but drown into tons of questions that run endlessly. Who am I?
Why is this man calling me his sister for the hundredth time? What does he know? Why did he suddenly appear on time when I needed someone the most? Is he my real brother? Where are our parents and who were they?
Time is running.
Pretending to be asleep is just as hard as I thought. The puzzlement won't stop if I can't get someone who can answer everything. The only way to escape this maze is if I open my eyes, face the reality and accept the truth.
But am I ready for this? I am scared just thinking of the right answer to that question. Because I know deep down this curiosity is just the shallow part of what I want to know. And it's scaring me, knowing I might fall to the abyss of darkness and bewilderment.
I'll count again like what I used to do with that boy before. I'll count again.
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten…
I remembered that boy's face. But who was he?
With the thought of him my eyes flutter open.
His delicate hand wipe that drop of tear like it's so precious to him. I begin questioning my identity, am I really the daughter of the late Henry Sy? Or am I not? Could it be the real reason behind? That's why my cousins tortured me and my so called friends spread false accusations and rumors behind my back? Am I an adopted child? And is it the main reason why they dislike my existence no matter how hard I try to please people. Is it the secret that everyone's been keeping from me? Is it the reason why their so called affection was synthetically used to fool me? I never thought this day will come, that I'll be the one doubting my own identity, or the fake identity they've given me. I can't believe that my life is a living lie. I don't understand why they've tried hard to hide things from me before they left. I can't help myself but drown into tons of questions that run endlessly. Who am I? Why is this man calling me his sister for the hundredth time? What does he know? Why did he suddenly appear on time when I needed someone the most? Is he my real brother? Where are our parents and who were they? Time is running. Pretending to be asleep is just as hard as I thought. The puzzlement won't stop if I can't get someone who can answer everything. The only way to escape this maze is if I open my eyes, face the reality and accept the truth. But am I ready for this? I am scared just thinking of the right answer to that question. Because I know deep down this curiosity is just the shallow part of what I want to know. And it's scaring me, knowing I might fall to the abyss of darkness and bewilderment. I'll count again like what I used to do with that boy before. I'll count again. One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten I remembered that boy's face. But who was he? With the thought of him my eyes flutter open.
