Chapter 1: House not a Home

    I once lived in a house full of boys.

My dad, my brother, my uncle and his son. My mom

and I were the only females in the house and I can say it’s a little difficult

to live sometimes. The final decision isn’t yours to decide, even if it

involves your life. So I was not surprised to wake up one morning to find out

that Mom secretly packed her bags and left early at dawn without a sound. I

can’t say that she left without a single trace, for she left a note on top of

the kitchen table where I usually eat breakfast. On a cheap yellow sticky note,

the words ’Here I ate’ were written in Mom’s penmanship. Did I cry? No. Did I

feel sad, yes a little bit of sadness was added to my depression. But did I

feel betrayed you asked? Hell yes, I’m seething of anger for I’ve been betrayed

on so many levels. Like how can she do that to her own daughter? Leaving me in

a place that reeks of patriarchy, does she not love me?

    I understand that she hated her life since the day my brother was born.

Dad changed, he suddenly became this dictator

where every word that comes out of his mouth should be worshipped and abided.

Just because a son was born to inherit whatever beliefs he believes that a son

should take into heart.

    Indeed Mom was heartbroken to see the love of her life to change like that.

But this was not the first time her heart broke for my father. When I was born, a girl,

her heart was torn into pieces to see the disappointment in my father’s eyes.

When my uncle and his son moved in because they lost their home and overstayed

their welcome for almost 15 years now, Mom didn’t say anything even if she was

treated as a maid sometimes. When father slept with a woman other than my Mom

because he was sad that his first born wasn’t a boy. His first born, a female,

that Mom gave birth 6 years ago. I know right? What a douche, Mom should’ve

just left him. But no, she loved my father so much that she stayed and

withstood the pain of trying so many times to have a son to fix her marriage

that in the first place, her marriage should have been perfect if she married

the right guy. But no, she still chose my douche of a father.

    For almost 19 years, I only saw her looked

genuinely happy in her wedding photos and during my school festivities (which

of course my Dad doesn’t attend) where I walked up the stage to receive various

awards I’ve won. I saw her cry on multiple occasions. I saw her cry hard inside

their bedroom the day she found out that father cheated. I saw her cry silently

when father scolded her of being selfish because she pointed out nicely that

his brother might be overstaying their welcome. She cried without tears while

holding a cupcake with a single lit candle, singing happy birthday with her

shaky voice so I won’t feel sad that my Dad refused to buy me even the simplest

cake on my 18th birthday. She cried so much that it felt like a

routine. Keeps on going, never changing.

    So when I went to the kitchen to greet my

Mom a happy birthday, only to find a yellow sticky note. I knew she was gone. I

hid the note in my pocket when Dad went in the kitchen and ordered me, yes not

asked, to cook for his breakfast. I obliged calmly but my insides were churning

with anger. He didn’t asked for Mom, or where she was, his wife that cooks

every single morning for our meal is absent and not a word related to Mom came

out of his mouth. Guess his breakfast is more important than his wife. My

brother came to the kitchen along with Uncle and his son to ask for breakfast.

Since father and his brother taught their sons that cooking is a female’s job,

I became their personal chef for the day. After father and uncle headed for

work, my brother came up to me while I was cleaning the dishes and asked where

mom was. As much as I hate my father, I couldn’t hate my brother. He didn’t do

anything wrong, besides he’s this fluffy cinnamon roll who is so nice to

everybody that nobody can ever hate him. Sometimes I think he might be born in

the wrong family because he was too good for us, a complete opposite of my

father.

     I replied with a simple, I don’t know, gone? He’s not the

smartest kid but he knew what I meant. He sat down, grabbed what it seems a

gift for Mom from his pocket and looked at me sadly.

She’s really gone, isn’t she? Her favorite book was missing when I

checked on the bookshelf. We really don’t deserve this kid. When I was

finished with my chore, he was still sitting sadly while looking at his gift. I

felt a pang in my heart. Mom loved us equally, she did not favor one over the

other. And that made Luke love Mom more than father who favored him so much.

     So when I grabbed his gift and told him that I’ll go and look for Mom. He

knew I won’t come back. He shed tears silently and hugged me. When he stopped

crying, he reached for his pocket then gave me a small black box with a tied

blue ribbon on top. He quietly said happy birthday too sis for his voice is too

shaky to speak clearly. He hugged me again and whispered,

Don’t worry about me sis. Go find Mom and when you do, live your life

and be happy.

     I hugged him again for one last time after

I packed my things. I left the house without looking back and shed some tears

of happiness and ache for my brother. For my brother didn’t just gave me an

expensive looking box, he also gave me my freedom.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***