Hues in Diliman (Abstract Series #1)

Epilogue 1

“Time of death, 3:53 in the afternoon.”

As a child, seeing the doctor’s somber expression while talking to my mom broke my heart.

It’s a tough call which is more heartbreaking: losing my dad or watching my mom not shedding even a single tear despite his death.

“Cy, I want you to meet someone,” my mother said, her smile radiant, seemingly unaffected by our family’s recent loss.

I never thought I could harbor such strong dislike for someone I once loved. My father, in his hospital bed, used to cry, pondering what he was missing. At my age, I couldn’t comprehend his words, but when those two figures entered our home, it all clicked into place.

“This is your younger sister, Ava. And here’s your new father, Dani.”

I stared blankly at the tall man, his smile wide, and the small child holding his hand with an innocent expression, wondering why she was here.

“It’s just been two weeks,” I whispered wearily, causing both adults to look taken aback. “Two weeks since Dad passed away. And…” I motioned towards the little girl. “Why would she be my younger sister? I’ve always been the only child.”

“Well, it’s a bit complicated, Cy. I’ll explain everything to you when you’re older,” Mom assured me, but it didn’t provide much comfort.

After witnessing my father’s passing as a child, I took a two-year hiatus from school to attend therapy sessions, struggling to cope with nightmares and overwhelming emotions. Thanks to my psychiatrist, I eventually overcame these challenges.

Upon returning to school, I found myself in the same grade as Ava. I discovered that she isn’t entirely awful. While she’s generally kind, there are moments when she can be unkind.

I grew up despising my mom. I mean, who wouldn’t? She didn’t even cry when my dad died, and then bam, just two weeks later, she’s moving on with a new family. How do you do that to someone you promised to love forever?

But, she’s still my mom at the end of the day. Yeah, she messed up big time, but she’s still a part of me. No matter how much she disappointed me, I can’t completely shut her out.

“Happy birthday, Mom!” Ava greeted while giving her flowers, which she personally picked from our garden.

Mom pinched her cheeks and smiled. “Thank you, sweetheart!”

I approached her, letting out a sigh. “H-Happy Birthday,” I mumbled, handing her the bracelet I had painstakingly crafted the day before. I had even watched a YouTube tutorial to make sure it turned out right.

She gave me a small smile and accepted the gift. “Thank you,” she said, but my heart sank as she casually placed it on the table, more interested in arranging the flowers Ava had given her in the expensive vase from Paris.

Ava offered a half-hearted apology and glanced at me with a small smile. I didn’t say anything, opting to step outside to clear my head. It’s disappointing that I even considered her worth my time. She’s shown time and time again that she’s emotionally unavailable, and I’ll never forget that. She doesn’t deserve my presence.

“Cy, pahinga ka muna! Kanina ka pa nag-aaral,” our oldest maid expressed her concern as she watched me read my books like an addict, wide-eyed and afraid of missing a word.

I feel like I need to buckle down and study harder. If I fail, nobody will want to be around me. Just like how Mom seemed to forget she even had a son. If I get bad grades, my friends might start picking on me, and my teacher might see me as a troublemaker.