The Beginning

"You know that's not good for you, Mint."

She rolls her eyes on me. "Why do you care? It's not like you're my mother or anything."

"I'm your sister and I'm supposed to look out for you," She doesn't say anything so before she could even walk away, I pulled her back and gave her a glare. "Our parents are working hard for you to go to school. Why are you out here with a bunch of—" I couldn't even think of a proper way to describe these people that she's with.

"I can do whatever the fuck I want and you can't stop me. Who are you to judge and tell me who I can be friends with? You only care about being this goody good kid back home but you're not really anything special."

At that, she jerks my hand away and walks away with her friends. I hate to see her in a situation like this. I hate to see her getting influenced by people who won't do any good for her future or for anything for that matter.

Seeing that smoke come out of her lips and the smell of her breath is already a bad sign, enough to even tell that she won't be serious with her school at all.

THE road back to the house wasn't very pleasing. In fact, it was so bumpy that I had to endure how painful it was to my feet. I wasn't even half way back home and I was already tired. Walking to school and walking back from school was hard for someone like me who can't afford to ride anything. People normally ride their bikes or their cars, or even jets on their way if they were that rich but we couldn't afford one. Let alone a new pair of shoes or clothes.

Slowly, I was getting a glimpse of our house from a distance. I don't know if I feel relieved or depressed that I'm home, partly because I already know that my father would hit me again with whatever he'd be holding that time for reasons that I never caused. If not a hit, it would be a massive list of household chores from mother.

Homes should feel like home – comforting and warm but I knew ours ain't one. It was rather hell but I still call it home no matter what. It's where our family lives after all – let it be fortunate or not.

I reached home – if it was even classified in that criterion – and when I tried to talk, my mother throws me clothes instead. "How dare you leave the house without finishing the laundry? Who do you think you are? A princess?!"

I am not even surprised. "I had to go to school for a quiz, mother."

"I don't care! I told you to quit school ages ago! WHAT PART OF QUIT DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND YOUNG GIRL?!"

I remained quiet. I have heard this line several times now and my ears were getting used to this kind of music – not the relaxing, calming one though. It was more of the type that would break not only my ears but my heart. I've been enduring the noise for quite a long time and I'm surprised that my ears are still working by now. It should be considered as a miracle. I handed her the brown envelope where my report card lays and when she opens it, she glares at me.

"I'm paying your tuition fee for an 89?!"

I could talk back and defend myself but I chose not to because even if my mother was treating me this way, I still respect her. 89 was my lowest grade in the report card but this was the only number she notices. Of all the grades, this is the only number she noticed.

"Where's your sister?"

I pressed my lips together as I picked up those she threw at me. I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want them to find out anything Mint was doing with her life. I didn't want her to experience what I am going through right now despite the different treatment they were giving us.

"I'm home." Mint enters inside the house in her loose, messy uniform.

Mother's attention quickly diverted to her as if she wasn't scolding me about my grade two seconds ago. "How was school? Did you do well? Why are you sweating so much? Did you eat your lunch? Are you hungry?"

"I actually am hungry."

"Violet! Go get your sister something to eat! She's tired!"

I stood from where I sat to gather the clothes that scattered all over the floor and left them down the chair for me to get back to. I went to the kitchen and started cooking what I found in the cabinet. It was only noodles available right now so I don't have much have of a choice.

"Here," I heard Mint say. She was probably giving mother her report card too. We were from the same school after all. I'd be surprised if she doesn't hand her report card the same day as me.

"You did well my child. Keep it up okay?"

The treatment I was getting from my family has been a part of me ever since I was born. Even if I wanted to protest, I couldn't because in the end, I'm the one who will suffer from striking words and painful bruises both from my mother and father.

After getting everything ready for my sister, I headed to our table and placed there the bowl of noodles. I caught a glimpse of her report card in the table and I saw straight 7s. You did well my child. I looked down poignant at what I just saw. Mother pushes me away and starts blowing over the bowl to cool it down a little. "Step back. Get your father something to eat before he arrives. He'll be here soon."

I watched my mother baby my sister, jealous. I suddenly wonder how it feels like for my parents to treat me like that and I wonder when it will come or happen. I realized it would never really happen now at this point.

I went back to the kitchen and did what my mother ordered me to do. Besides the noodles, the only edible thing that was in our cabinet was the last can of tuna.

After cooking, I proceeded back to where I left the clothes and carried them over a bucket. I had to wash them now if I wanted my family to wear something tomorrow. While I was running the clothes over clean water, I suddenly hear father's arrival from outside the house. "I come home from work and this is what I get?!"

"YOU'RE REALLY SAYING THAT? REALLY?" My heart raced as I hear my mother yell back. "WHAT ARE YOU COMPLAINING ABOUT?! WHAT ABOUT YOU? WHAT ARE YOU DOING WHEN YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO GIVE US A BETTER LIFE LIKE YOU PROMISED BUT WHERE IS IT NOW? WE'RE STILL MUDDY BEGGARS WHO CAN'T EVEN AFFORD A SINGLE CAN OF TUNA SO DON'T GO COMPLAINING ABOUT NOT HAVING ANYTHING TO EAT BECAUSE THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

I hastened back inside the house rubbing my foamy hands over my shorts so they were soaked and I felt the cold water linger over my lap. When I got inside, mother and father were facing each other with glares that could kill anybody and there were already fallen objects scattered all over the floor.

Father slaps mother in the face. "If you were working with me to raise these children you wanted, then it would have been easier! If you weren't sleeping with the neighbors every fucking day, life wouldn't be this bad!"

"Are you hearing yourself?! Where is this all coming from?! WHEN DID I EVER SLEEP WITH A NEIGHBOR YOU FUCKING MENTAL!"

"ME? I AIN'T THE MENTAL ONE HERE! IT'S YOU! You wanted this family more than I did! If you didn't kill our first child, it could have been easier for us! Instead, you kept this, this no-good second child of yours who can't even work for our lives!"

Mother wasn't able to respond but she looked mad. She wasn't going to let father win her over this conversation. "You're delusional."

Father jerked the plate over the table and mumbles, "Why did I even marry a woman like you. You piece of shit."

And if I could escape right now, I would but this is the reality I have to face.