Pieces of Me

When I stepped into the house, the silence was so heavy it felt like it was screaming. My parents were sitting at the table, both wearing tense expressions. The moment I walked through the door, their eyes landed on my swollen face.

"What happened to your face?" my mother asked, her voice calm but thick with concern.

I didn't answer. Everything I had kept bottled up throughout the day exploded inside me. The tears came without warning, a gut-wrenching sob that tore through me from the inside out.

"This is your fault!" I shouted at my father, filled with hatred. "Even here they know who you are! They hit me because of you!"

"Isa…" he said, his tone softening as he saw my reaction, but it was too late. My sobs grew louder, more desperate.

"Don't you have a heart?" I choked between cries. "Why did you do that to innocent people?"

I saw him lower his gaze, his posture rigid, as if my words had crushed him. He stepped toward me, wrapped me in his arms, and his voice broke.

"Isa… You won't understand until you're old enough."

I felt his hands trembling as he held me tightly, like he was trying to keep me together while I completely fell apart.

"They hit me because my father is a murderer," I whispered, my voice shattered.

My words hung in the air like a deadly echo. His embrace tensed, and then it was my mother who spoke, breaking the silence that had formed like an invisible wall between us.

"Daniel, leave us alone."

My father let out a heavy sigh before stepping away. My mother took my hand and, with a calmness that broke me in two, led me to my room. Once inside, she closed the door behind us, and I collapsed completely.

"Please, Mom," I begged, my voice drowned in tears, "Take me out of that school. Let me go back to Venezuela."

She looked at me with pain in her eyes, but her response was immediate and firm.

"I can't, Isa."

"Then at least let me stop going to that school! Please!"

"You have to keep studying," she said, with a determination that ripped through me.

"I don't even speak Thai, Mom! I don't know how to say the simplest greeting. I can't even say 'hello' or 'good morning' when I walk into class. Everyone looks at me like I don't belong. I've always been used to people staring at me, but these looks… These looks judge me in a completely different way."

I fell to my knees in front of her, my tears soaking into the floor.

"Please, Mom, I don't want to live in Thailand. Let's go somewhere else. Let's go to the United States."

She knelt down and helped me stand. She wiped my tears away with trembling hands, but her voice stayed steady.

"We can't go there, Isa. You know why. Your father…"

"It's always about my father," I muttered, feeling the entire weight of the world crash down on me.

I cried harder, so much that my whole body shook. My mother didn't say anything else. She just held me, letting me fall apart in her arms. Eventually, exhausted from so much pain, I fell asleep between her whispers and my sobs, wrapped in her warmth but feeling more alone than ever.

I didn't know if I was strong enough to face everything they said about me at school, but one thing was clear: I didn't understand a single word of their language, so I might as well not care what they said about me. Starting today, no one was going to make me lower my head again. I would hold it high. I would focus on learning Thai, graduate, and do whatever it took to get out of this place.

I felt the rumors behind my back, whispers that were probably about me, but I ignored them. That morning, I avoided looking at Kamon and her group. Even though she was in the row right next to mine, I didn't bother to glance her way. That's how four hours went by, and for the first time since I arrived, I felt in control.

During break, I found Minji—the only real friend I'd made so far.

"How are you?" she asked, eyeing my swollen face.

"I'm fine, actually."

"Does it hurt?" she asked, concerned and curious.

"No, this doesn't hurt at all," I replied with a defiant smile.

"Did you follow my advice?"

I gave her a wry smile in return.

"I've ignored her, Minji. But if she comes looking for trouble again, she'll find it. And this time, I'm ready to give back three times what she gave me."

"Isa, Kamon…"

"I don't care who she is," I cut her off. "Do you know how messed up it is to be judged for the parents you have? I didn't choose my father, and I sure as hell didn't tell him to do all the horrible things he's done."

Minji looked away, but I studied her face carefully.

"Don't look at me like that. I know you looked it up online too. And yes… My father is who he is. But I'm not him. I'm just a sixteen-year-old girl who dreams of being a pilot and getting lost in the sky."

My voice softened at the end, but my resolve was still sharp.

"You know what the difference is between Kamon and me? She's the typical girl who thinks she's everything just because of her father's power. She's a spoiled brat."

"Did you look her up?" Minji asked, intrigued.

"I didn't. I don't even know her last name. But from what you told me yesterday, I understood everything I needed to. She only intimidates people because her father is... what? Rich? If he lost all his money, what would she be, other than a pampered sixteen-year-old girl?"

"She's fifteen."

"What?" I blinked in confusion.

"Kamon is fifteen," Minji clarified.

"I don't care if she's fifteen, twenty, or twenty-five. She'll always be an empty little girl."

The bell signaling the end of the break rang, cutting our conversation short. I walked back to class with the same determination I'd started the day with.

The language was still a barrier, but it wasn't a prison. My new phone already had over three hundred photos of the whiteboard, each one fed through Google Translate. I wasn't going to let the language or the stares break me. This was just the beginning, and I was ready to fight.

I still hated not understanding anything, but what truly caught me off guard was being paired up with the idiot Tutankhamon herself. Like a pop quiz out of nowhere.

"Lucky you, Chao Nòk. I'm really good at history. What are you even doing here? Do you actually plan to learn Thai?" Kamon grinned with that smug look. "We have a surprise test now, and unfortunately for me, you're my partner. Fortunately for you, I'm good at history. This will be your first and last good grade."

I didn't say anything. I just looked at the sheet in front of me. Of course—I didn't understand a word.

"Don't worry, Chao Nòk. I'll do everything. I'm not letting you drag my grade down."

And that's exactly what happened. For the next thirty-five minutes, I watched her do it all. She was focused, her eyes scanning the page while her pen moved with confidence. I just sat there, watching her. Why did this girl have to be so beautiful and so arrogant at the same time? Once she turned in the test, we had to wait for the others to finish. She glanced at her phone, then looked at me and asked:

"Do you have Line, Chao Nòk?"

"What's that?"

"Line? Seriously?" she mocked.

"I know it's an app. I meant what you're saying... Chao what?"

"Oh, that. It's a nickname I have for you. Don't worry, Chao Nòk. It's said with affection."

She looked at me for a few seconds and smiled. Thump thump. There it was. Calm down, heart.

"I've got one for you too," I said, regaining a bit of confidence.

"Oh yeah? What is it?" she asked, arching a curious brow.

Just as I was about to answer, Kamon stood up abruptly, said something in Thai, and walked off, leaving me hanging.

"Stupid Tutankhamon," I muttered under my breath, frustrated and with sweaty palms.

That afternoon, when I got home, I went straight to my room. I threw myself onto the bed, exhausted, my mind buzzing. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the photos I'd taken in class, just one of many strategies I was using to survive in this country. I sighed, set the phone aside, and stared at the ceiling in silence.

Why had I felt that thump thump when Kamon smiled at me? It was the first time anyone had cracked through my shell of anger and frustration, even if only for a second. What was it about that girl that made me feel this way? I closed my eyes, searching for a reason that never came. Maybe... Just maybe there was something more behind her arrogance. But did I really want to find out?

I clutched the pillow to my chest, trying to quiet the storm in my head. One thing was certain: this place was changing me. And I still didn't know if that was a good thing or not.