Chapter 59
I was twelve years old when we moved into another house again. A new place, new neighbors, but the same routine. Boxes scattered everywhere, furniture being dragged across the floor, and the heavy smell of dust mixed with paint clung to the air. But the worst part wasn’t the moving—it was her.
As usual, Tita Anna was yelling at me.
"Bilisan mo nga kumilos! Ang bagal-bagal mo!" Her voice pierced through the noise like a knife. Sharp, impatient, unforgiving.
It didn’t matter what I did. I was always too slow, too clumsy, too noisy, too everything. Somehow, I always managed to be wrong in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, almost like a reflex. It was the only thing I knew how to say whenever she scolded me.
The only thing I could say. Maybe if I said it enough, she'd stop yelling. Maybe if I said it enough, I’d actually become less of a burden.
But I knew better.
"Puro ka sorry! Mabuti sana kung nakakaayos 'yan ng ugali mo!" she snapped again. "Bilisan mo na nga! I-akyat mo na 'yang gamit d’yan sa likod ng sasakyan. Puro ka daldal!"
I nodded silently, lowering my head. The box I carried was almost half my size, but I didn't complain. I never did. I just moved. Like a robot. Like a servant. Like someone who didn't matter.
We had a maid. A real one. But Tita Anna always made me do the work anyway. Sometimes I wondered if she even noticed I was just a kid. Or maybe she did—and just didn’t care.
I carried the box up the front steps, my arms shaking, my fingers slipping slightly under the weight. No one offered to help me. No one even looked at me. Like I was invisible.
Was this normal?
Did other twelve-year-olds feel this kind of pain too?
Do I deserve this?
I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. Crying only made her angrier. And besides, I was used to this.
Still, I couldn’t help but wonder...
If I disappeared, would she even notice?
Would anyone?
I bit my lip and picked up the heavy box from the back of the car. It was heavy—like my chest.
The new house looked big from the outside, but it felt cold. Not because of the aircon—it was the kind of cold that made you feel like you didn’t belong.
As I tried to climb the stairs, my foot slipped a little on the tile. The box wobbled in my arms, but I held it tight.
“Ayan na naman! Mag-ingat ka kasi!” I heard her yell from downstairs. “Paano ka lalaki kung ganyan ka, walang silbi!”
I froze. My hands were shaking. I didn’t even say anything anymore. What’s the point?
When I finally reached the small bedroom, I looked around. There was a single bed with a pink curtain. I didn’t choose it.
“Para girly,” she told me earlier. But she never asked what I liked.
I sat on the edge of the bed and hugged my knees. From the other room, I could hear her laughing on the phone. Her voice was light, happy. So different when it wasn’t me she was talking to.
“Grabe, oo! Nakakainis talaga. Basta 'pag hindi ko tinutukan, wala talagang kusa,” she said to whoever was on the line. “Parang hindi naturuang kumilos nang maayos.”
My chest felt tight. My hands dug into the sides of my legs. Why am I the only one she talks about like that?
It was quiet in my room, but inside my head, everything was loud.
I whispered to myself, Don’t cry. You’re not weak.
But the tears started falling anyway. First one. Then two. Then I lost count.
I wish Mama was here. Or Papa. Or Lolo. Just one of them. Because if they were, I know it wouldn’t be like this. I know I wouldn’t feel like… a burden.
I wiped my face with the edge of my sleeve, but the tears didn’t stop. They just kept falling like they had a mind of their own. My eyes were starting to sting, but I didn’t want to move. If I stayed really still, maybe no one would notice me. Maybe I’d disappear.
Then I heard footsteps approaching. I quickly sat up straight and wiped my face again. The door opened.
“Ano na naman 'yang itsura mo?” Tita Anna stood by the door, arms crossed. “Umiyak ka na naman? Diyos ko, Cynthia, ang drama mo.”
“I’m not crying,” I said quickly, even though my voice cracked a little.
“Mag-ayos ka na nga ng gamit mo. Huwag ka diyan umupo-upo lang. Wala tayong katulong dito na mag-aayos para sa'yo, ha?”
I nodded silently and stood up. She didn’t even wait for me to respond before walking away and slamming the door.
The walls felt like they were closing in.
I looked around the room again. The bed was too neat. The curtains were too pink. There were boxes on the floor—mine, I guess. Clothes I didn’t like, things I didn’t really want. I knelt down beside one of them and opened the lid.
There were some of my old notebooks inside. One had drawings in the corner of the pages. I used to draw little stories when no one was looking. Stories about girls who had superpowers. Girls who were brave and strong and always had someone who believed in them.
I touched the cover, tracing the pen marks. That girl wasn’t me. Not anymore.
From downstairs, I heard voices. Tita Anna and her friend, maybe.
“Wala talaga akong choice, eh. Iniwan sa'kin, tapos ako na bahala raw. Pabigat na nga sa gastos, ang tigas pa ng ulo,” she said.
I closed the notebook. My chest was heavy again.
I don’t think she knows I can hear her. Or maybe she doesn’t care. Maybe she wants me to hear it. Maybe she wants me to know I’m not wanted here.
I stood up and went to the window. The glass was a little dusty, but I could see the neighborhood. It looked clean and quiet. Some kids were biking outside. They were laughing.
I wondered if they lived with moms who smiled at them and tucked them into bed. If they had dads who asked how their day went. I wondered what that felt like.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.
Tok. Tok.
“Cynthia, kakain na,” the maid said softly from outside. “Baba ka na raw.”
I didn’t answer right away. I didn’t know if I was hungry. But I didn’t want to be scolded again.
“I’m coming,” I whispered.
I opened the door slowly and walked down the stairs. At the dining table, Tita Anna was already eating. She didn’t even look up when I sat down.
“Umayos ka sa pagkain. Huwag kang kalat. At linisin mo ang pinagkainan mo pagkatapos, ha? Hindi ako katulad ng nanay mo na hinahayaan kang maging spoiled.”
She said it like it was normal. Like it wasn’t the cruelest thing she could’ve said.
I didn’t say anything. I just picked up my spoon and ate quietly. Every bite tasted like cardboard.
I looked at the empty chair across from me. I imagined Lolo sitting there, telling one of his jokes. Or Papa, complaining about his day but smiling anyway. Or Mama, laughing and reminding me to eat my vegetables.
But they weren’t here.
It was just me and Tita Anna.
And I wasn’t even sure if that still counted as family.
"Bukas, papasok kana sa paaralan mismo. You're an grade 7 student, 'wag ka nang umarte na maging home school. Mabubulok kana d'yan sa kwarto mo. Na enroll na kita, kaya huwag ka nang magreklamo." sabi nito, and I can't do anything but to nod.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of pans clattering in the kitchen.
I didn’t sleep well. The blanket was too thin, the pillow too stiff. But more than that, it was the voice in my head that wouldn’t let me rest. Her voice. Over and over again.
I got dressed quietly. The uniform was too big on me, and the skirt kept slipping at the waist. But I didn’t say anything.
When I stepped into the kitchen, she was already there. Drinking coffee. Not even looking at me.
“Ayan, suotin mo 'yang sapatos na 'yan. Malapit na ang alis. Ayoko ng malate,” she said, tossing a pair of plain black shoes toward me.
They weren’t even mine. They were too tight.
“Yes, Tita,” I mumbled.
“Anong sabi mo?” she snapped, finally looking at me.
“I said yes po,” I corrected myself quickly.
“Mabuti naman. Marunong ka palang sumunod.”
I just looked down and put on the shoes.
The ride to school was quiet. Except for the radio playing some morning show, everything else was silence. She didn’t speak to me again until we reached the school gates.
“Bumaba ka na. Huwag ka nang paliguy-ligoy. Alam mo na ang section mo, 'di ba?”
I nodded. She didn’t even wait for me to reply. The car drove off as soon as I closed the door.
I stared up at the big gate in front of me.
New school. New uniform. New classmates.
Same old me.
I tightened my grip on the straps of my backpack and walked in. The hallways were noisy with students laughing and talking. Some were running, others hanging out in groups.
Everyone seemed like they belonged somewhere.
I passed by a group of girls who looked at me from head to toe. One of them whispered something, and the others giggled.
I pretended I didn’t hear it.
When I found my classroom, I peeked through the open door. The teacher wasn’t there yet. Everyone else was already seated in groups, chatting, sharing snacks, comparing notebooks.
I stepped in slowly.
“Uy, ikaw ba 'yung bagong student?” one girl asked.
“Yes,” I replied, offering a small smile.
“Ah okay,” she said, then turned back to her group.
No one asked me to sit beside them.
I walked to the empty chair in the corner and placed my bag down. I looked out the window and took a deep breath.
It’s just school. I’ve been to school before.
But it wasn’t the same.
Nothing was.
I kept my hands on my lap and waited for the bell to ring.
Eventually, the teacher came in. Everyone stood and greeted her. I stood too, but my voice didn’t come out.
She introduced herself, then looked at the class list.
“May bago tayong student. Cynthia, tama ba?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said quietly.
“Okay, welcome. Please try to catch up, ha? We’re already mid-year. Sana hindi ka mahirapan.”
“Yes po,” I answered again.
“Good. Sige, class, get your science notebooks.”
I opened my bag and pulled mine out. It had the drawings again. The ones I used to make when things weren’t so heavy.
I stared at the sketch of the girl with the cape.
I missed her.
She was strong. Brave.
Not like me.
I just hoped that one day, I could be her again. Or at least… something close.
Lunch break came, and I waited until most of the class had left before standing up. I didn’t know where to go yet. I didn’t have any friends to sit with.
I held my lunchbox close to my chest and walked slowly down the hallway. The other students filled the corridors with noise and laughter. Some were by the canteen, others by the benches outside. Everyone seemed to know someone.
I didn’t know where to sit. So I found a quiet spot behind the building, under the tree where the sun couldn’t reach.
I sat on the concrete bench and opened my lunchbox. Rice and scrambled eggs. I wasn’t hungry, but I knew I had to eat.
That’s when I heard voices approaching.
“Uy, siya nga 'yun. 'Yung bagong student.”
“Ah oo. Cynthia ba pangalan n’yan?”
“Ang weird nga kumilos, parang robot.”
I didn’t look up. I just tried to eat quietly.
But then someone kicked my lunchbox.
The whole thing flipped over. Rice scattered onto the ground. The egg landed on my shoe.
I looked up slowly.
Three girls were standing in front of me, all smirking.
“Ano 'yan? Food mo?” one of them said, laughing. “Akala ko basura.”
“Ang dumi mo naman kumain,” the other added.
I didn’t say anything. My hands were frozen in my lap. My chest felt tight again.
“Wala ka bang sasabihin?” one of them leaned closer. “Bingi ka ba?”
“No,” I finally said, trying to keep my voice calm. “I just don’t like talking to people who aren’t kind.”
They laughed louder.
“Ang arte mo naman magsalita! Englisera pala 'to. Pa-sosyal! Haha!”
“Baka feeling mayaman 'to. Akala niya siya si princess!”
One of them reached for my drawing notebook sticking out of my bag.
“No—please!” I grabbed for it, but she was faster.
She opened it and flipped through the pages.
“Wow, ang babaw ng drawings! Mga batang-bata!”
“Superpowers daw! Haha, akala mo cartoon!”
She tore one page out and crumpled it.
I couldn’t breathe.
“Give it back,” I whispered.
“Ha? Anong sabi mo?” she mocked. “'Give it back?' Ay wow, English pa more!”
They laughed again. The one holding the notebook tossed it back at me—now with two pages torn, one falling to the dirt.
“Bye, princess,” they said, walking away like nothing happened.
I sat there, frozen.
I picked up the torn page and smoothed it on my lap. The edges were ripped, the drawing scratched, but I could still see her—the girl with the cape.
The one who never cried.
But I wasn’t her.
Not yet.
I wiped my eyes quickly and put the notebook back in my bag.
Then I looked down at my ruined food, and I didn’t feel hungry anymore.
I just wanted to go home.
But even that didn’t feel like a safe place.
So I stayed there, under the tree, wishing for someone to care enough to come find me.
But no one did.
Or… that’s what I thought.
“Hi. Are you okay? I saw you earlier got bullied by those freaks.”
I turned around, startled.
Three girls stood a few feet away—all of them wearing the same uniform, all of them looking at me like I wasn’t invisible.
One had short, messy hair and a piercing on one ear.
Another had her hair in a neat braid and glasses that made her look really smart.
The third had bright eyes, a high ponytail, and a mischievous smile, like she was always a second away from making a joke.
“Don’t worry,” the girl with the braid said. “My family owns this school. I'll get them expelled.”
I just stared at them. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t used to people looking at me like they cared.
“You can talk to us,” said the short-haired girl. “We’re nice. Promise.”
“And loud,” the ponytailed one added, grinning. “Well, mostly me.”
I blinked. “Who are you?”
“I’m Seinna,” said the short-haired one. “I sit in the back row. You probably haven’t noticed. I’m a little invisible too.”
“And I’m Athena,” the braided one said, smiling gently. “I’m from the science club. I’m also invisible, but in a cooler way.”
“Samantha,” said the girl with the ponytail, giving a little wave. “Cheer squad. Don’t judge—I actually read books too.”
They all sat on the edge of the bench beside me without asking, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I looked down at my crumpled lunchbox and torn drawing.
Seina noticed. “Was this your drawing?” she asked, picking up the ripped page gently.
I nodded.
“It’s cool. She looks strong. Like a girl who can fly away from all this junk.”
I bit my lip. “That’s what I wanted her to be.”
Athena tilted her head. “Well… maybe you are her. Just haven’t figured out how to fly yet.”
Samantha leaned over to get a better look. “She kind of looks like you, actually. Like a superhero version of you. I love it.”
Something tight in my chest loosened, just a little.
Seina opened her backpack. “Want a cookie? My mom bakes like she’s preparing for the end of the world.”
She handed me a chocolate chip cookie, a little squished but still warm.
I took it slowly. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she grinned.
“We sit by the back tree during lunch,” Samantha chimed in. “Usually talking about random stuff like time travel or bad cafeteria food. You can join us tomorrow if you want. Or today. Or never. No pressure.”
They all stood up, brushing crumbs off their skirts.
Athena looked back and added, “But if you ever need someone to talk to—about superheroes, mean girls, or just life—we're just over there.”
And then the three of them walked off together, casually like they hadn’t just made my whole day different.
I looked at the cookie in my hand. Took a small bite.
It didn’t taste like cardboard.
For the first time since moving into that cold, pink-curtained room, I felt something warm in my chest.
Maybe I wasn't completely alone.
Maybe there were people out there who saw me.
Not as a burden.
Not as a freak.
Just… me.
---
The next day, I sat quietly in the classroom, clutching my pencil like it could somehow hold all the feelings I didn’t know how to express.
The bell rang, signaling the start of homeroom, and everyone shuffled in.
The group of girls who had bullied me yesterday seemed to stay away, but I still felt their eyes on me—like I was a weird puzzle they couldn’t quite figure out.
But I didn’t look at them.
I sat in the back, like I had the day before, trying to disappear into the desk, trying to quiet the storm of thoughts in my head. I wondered if Seina, Athena, and Samantha would actually show up. Part of me hoped they would. Another part prepared for disappointment.
People were like that. They said things—nice things—but most of the time, they didn’t stay.
But then the door opened.
Seina’s messy hair peeked in first, followed by Athena’s clean braid. Then Samantha, with her high ponytail and that confident stride that made it seem like nothing in the world could shake her.
They looked around… and saw me.
And then they waved.
They didn’t hesitate. They didn’t whisper or giggle or pretend not to see me. They just walked straight toward me like I wasn’t something to be avoided.
My heart raced. I kept my eyes down, but I felt the heat creeping up my neck.
Seina plopped into the chair beside me, like she belonged there. Athena took the other side, her glasses catching the morning light. Samantha spun her chair around in front of my desk, sitting backward and propping her chin on the backrest like she had all the time in the world.
“We thought we could hang out today,” Athena said, her voice calm, reassuring. “We brought our math notes… but also, cookies. We can talk about anything.”
“Cookies?” My voice came out quieter than I intended.
Seina grinned. “Not just any cookies. Mom’s cookies. They’ve survived fires, heartbreaks, and one very dramatic sleepover meltdown.”
Samantha smirked. “They’re magical. Like edible therapy.”
I let out a small laugh—barely more than a breath. But it was real. I hadn’t laughed in days, and it felt strange. Strange, but safe.
Seina reached into her bag and handed me a ziplock of cookies. I hesitated, then took one gently, like it might break apart in my hand.
For a moment, none of us spoke.
“So…” Seina said, voice light. “You don’t talk much, huh?”
I froze, fingers tightening slightly around the cookie.
“I… I do,” I whispered. “Just not… always out loud.”
They didn’t laugh. They didn’t push.
“That’s okay,” Athena said. “We don’t need words to be friends. You can just sit with us. We’ll fill the silence for you.”
Samantha leaned closer, grinning. “Besides, I talk enough for three people.”
I looked down at the cookie in my hand, at the uneven cracks and melty chocolate chips. I didn’t know how to say thank you. I didn’t know how to say I needed this, or I’m scared, or I’m trying.
So I just nodded.
That tiny movement—just enough for them to see.
Seina beamed. “Cool.”
“You don’t have to be anything you’re not,” Athena said gently. “You don’t owe the world a version of yourself that doesn’t feel real.”
Samantha kicked her legs up onto the chair beside mine. “Yeah. Screw normal. You’re you, and that’s more than enough.”
My throat tightened, but not in the way it used to. This time, it wasn’t fear. It was something softer. Warmer.
Maybe I wasn’t ready to speak my feelings. Maybe I never really learned how.
But maybe, with them beside me, I didn’t have to rush.
Maybe I could just be… here.
And maybe that was enough.
---
Lunch passed quickly, and soon it was time to head to class again. Seina, Athena, and Samantha walked with me down the hallway, chatting and laughing about silly things—stuff that felt so normal, like the world wasn’t as heavy as it had been just a few hours ago.
Seina told a ridiculous story about how she once got her shoelace stuck in a vending machine.
Athena kept correcting her with “scientific inaccuracies,” which only made it funnier.
And Samantha?
She walked a little ahead, occasionally glancing back to make sure I was still with them, cracking quiet jokes like we’d known each other for years.
When we reached the door to our next class, Athena gave me a little nudge on the arm.
“Hey, just so you know,” she said, smiling, “we’re saving you a seat tomorrow. No pressure, but we’d like you to join us for lunch again.”
Seina gave me a thumbs-up. “You’re part of our crew now. Deal with it.”
Then Samantha turned around, her grin a little crooked, a little smug. “And in this crew, we don’t ditch each other. You sit with us, you’re stuck with us.”
Something warm bloomed in my chest.
I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face.
“I’ll be there,” I said, my voice steady.
I had no idea what tomorrow would bring. I still wasn’t sure how to put everything I felt into words. But for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was walking into the unknown alone.
Not anymore.
As I sat down in my seat, a small piece of paper fell out from between the pages of my notebook. It was one of my old drawings—the girl with the cape, still whole and untouched by the bullies.
I smiled. It wasn’t gone. It wasn’t lost.
And maybe, just maybe, I would figure out how to fly one day.
Everything was going well.
Until it happened again.
I had just finished cleaning up my desk when I stepped out to go to the restroom. The hallway was almost empty—most students were already in their classrooms. The building felt eerily quiet, like the calm before a storm.
And then I saw them.
A new group this time. Four boys. Bigger than me, louder, and far more dangerous-looking than the last.
One of them stepped forward, cracking his knuckles with a smug look on his face.
“So ikaw pala ‘yung dahilan kung bakit na-expel ‘yung girlfriend ko?” he said, voice laced with venom.
I stared back at him, blank. No emotion. No fear on my face, though my heart was beating out of rhythm.
I didn’t answer.
Another boy let out a low laugh. “Tingnan mo ‘to, akala mo kung sinong walang pakialam. Tignan natin kung hanggang saan ka kakapalan ng mukha.”
Then they started walking toward me.
Before I could even react, SPLASH—a whole bottle of water hit me straight in the chest.
Followed by a carton of chocolate drink, bursting open on impact, staining my uniform and skin with sticky, brown liquid. Then came the food—half-eaten rice meals, chips, and something mushy I didn’t even recognize.
I stood there, soaked, shaking.
I looked like trash.
Do I deserve this kind of treatment?
One of them laughed, louder than the others. “Kaya ata hindi ka mahal ng magulang mo kasi ganyan ka!”
The hallway echoed with their cruel laughter. My ears rang.
They were about to throw more when—
“HOY! TANGINA NIYOOOOO!!! TUMIGIL KAYO DIYAN!!!”
A voice roared through the hallway like a war horn.
All four boys turned at the same time, startled. I did too.
A girl stormed toward us, fists clenched, eyes blazing. Her ponytail bounced like it was angry too. Her skirt was hiked slightly from sprinting. She looked like she was ready to throw hands.
“Anong akala niyo sa sarili niyo ha? Mga kagalang-galang na unggoy?!” she shouted again.
One of the boys raised his hand as if to explain, but she cut him off.
“TANGINA MO BOBBY, TIGILAN MO 'YAN BAGO KO IPAKAIN SA'YO 'YANG TSINELAS KO!”
“Okay, atras na tayo, ‘tol. Sira ‘to eh,” one boy muttered, and just like that, they scattered like roaches—gone as fast as they came.
She stomped closer, breathing heavily, clearly still fuming.
“Okay ka lang?” she asked, glaring in the direction the boys ran before turning to me. “Mga gago talaga ‘yung mga 'yon. Wala nang ibang ginawa kundi mang-bully. Ugh!”
I didn’t respond. I was too stunned.
She looked at me, eyes softening as she noticed the mess.
“Sorry if I scared you. Ako nga pala si Diana.” She pulled a wad of tissue from her pocket and started wiping the chocolate off my cheek with surprising gentleness.
“Thank you,” I whispered, barely audible.
“Walang anuman. Maliit na bagay ‘yan,” she said with a smile. “May extra akong damit sa locker ko, tara, hiramin mo muna. Ayoko namang magmukha kang tsokolateng batang kanal habang umiikot ‘yang mga unggoy na ‘yon.”
She took my hand firmly but not forcefully, guiding me away from the scene.
As we walked, she kept ranting under her breath—clearly not over it.
“Grabe, nakakabweset talaga. Akala mo kung sinong lalaking matapang, eh kung ako ‘yan, isang pitik lang ng nanay ko, iyak na agad. Pweh. Kung ako lang ang principal dito, pinaliguan ko na ‘yon ng suka't toyo. Mukha ngang igit, feeling alpha male pa. Hay nako, girl, pag ako na-bad trip ulit, baka pasayawin ko sila ng Spaghetti sa gitna ng kantina habang may ketchup sa mukha.”
I didn’t fully understand everything she said, but somehow… it made me feel safe. Like the chaos around her was a shield. A loud, angry, funny, loyal shield.
And for the first time since this whole mess started, I didn’t feel like crying.
I felt like I wanted to stay.