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"No one likes to be sent in a boarding school, dad." I groaned as I watch him put my luggages inside the trunk. He put the last bag before shutting it down with a bang then turned to me.

"Everyone likes to be in boarding school,"

"No!" I groaned, annoyingly. "No likes to be in a school that was run by fucking nuns!"

"It will help you." He sighed, stepping forward to put his calloused hands on my shoulder then give it a squeeze. "Trust me, Rue."

"No." My voice audible. I can feel the threat of salt, warm tears in the back of my eyes. I take a deep breath and screw my eyes shut and that's when dad pulled me in his arms and enclosed me with parental warmth that didn't stop me from spilling out my emotions anymore.

My sobs filled the garage and my tears soaked down his blue button shirt. I hate to hear myself cry but it's not like this is the first time he hears or sees me cry. I just hate the fact that I'm messing up his newly bought button shirt which my mom bought for him last Christmas. It costs, probably, $30.

"Can you pull away now, dad. I am messing up your shirt, oh God." I sniffed.

Dad chuckled heartedly before he pulls away and wipe the tears away from his wrinkled cheeks. He sniffed then said, "Yeah, your mom's gonna be so mad."

I nodded then sniffed again. "Yeah, she will."

If there's one thing we have in common,  that will be we are both scared to see mom get mad because it's like doomsday happening and you're being judged for the last time.

Dad was silent for a few seconds, just looking at me with tender gaze, his little chapped lips pressed in thin line as if stopping himself from bursting out again. His eyes were like the softest brown. He inhaled sharply, close his eyes and open them again.

"This is for the best, sweetheart." He said, voice in a low and soft tone. "It will be just a short time, I promise you. After graduating there, I can guarantee you, you'll be free to live independently and go on your desired college school."

His words gives me hope, his promises gives zest in my dying emotions. It's good to hear your father hearing those words. It's good that even though he knows you're messed up in any aspect, he is still there and ready to make sacrifices to help you defeat your adversaries.

It's good.

It's nice.

You feel like you're not alone.

And it's good and nice.

But nothing lasts forever. Even the good dies. Even the bad dies. At the end, we all are just ashes scattered in the air.

And so we're complete inside my dad's small, vintage car. Me, dad, mom, and with my little sister, Gia. The windows we're a little open so the fresh breeze from the outside and the smell of pines lingered inside. A woman with southern accent fills the spaces of the car as she talked through the stereo about the weather for today. The atmosphere was not good nor bad. It was maybe in the middle. I can feel the indescribable feeling that hovers above the small space of the car. The sun is still bright and up, showering down beams of light down on us. The traffic wasn't heavy. A few cars passed, a few cars go.

My head was leaning against the window, watching the scenery from behind the windows as we get nearer and nearer to the prison I'll be spending on the rest of my highschool days. 

Gia was busy bopping her head and letting her curls bounce while she listens with her earphones and iPod.  Mom was in front of me, busy calling someone  over the phone which is probably one of her clients. As usual, mom talks in a hushed voice, like a lady from the medieval times. It's cool whenever she do those kind of things. That's probably one of her best assets that pulls my dad towards her.

I look at my dad and he was calmly seating at the driver seat. His eyes focused on the road, as usual. His left hand on the wheel while his right on the stick. I looked over his shoulder and found a little remnants of the wet part where my tears soaked the cloth. He didn't changed it even though my mom told him to change first before we leave. His excuse was cool too. He told mom that he accidentally pour some water on himself while drinking water. He never told her I was crying like a weak baby.

He always keeps my secrets to himself and it what makes him my most favorite person in the whole world. I love mom too and Gia,  but I would always go side with my dad.

When you see the long trail of train tracks on the left side of the road that's when you know you're almost there. That's what I read about the experiences and memos of the alumnis from that boarding school. It's not popular that you want to put your kid there because the rating is super duper high and so is the feedback from the parents who have their kids put in there, no.

This is the type of boarding school where you put your kid because you have nothing else to sent her besides the jail. My dad and mom always said that this school will make me feel enlightened, make me see the nirvana but then I read about these memos and posts on the internet about how this boarding school works.

Since they told me that I'll be attending this school we had a lot of arguments. And I'm not just talking about simple yelling, I'm talking about throwing stuff, slamming doors, guttural screams that can almost pop the veins in our throat already. That kind of argument. Cause I'll be damn honest, it's normal for me to act abnormal towards them. I think they get used to it after, me, being sent to rehab when I was just sophomore. I've been taking drugs since I started taking drugs. Yeah. I mean, I got multiple disorders and my brain is wacked and so I badly need medications and since I first experience what the drugs could actually do for me.

I became addicted.

Mom and dad was stupefied. They never thought I'll be like this because they thought Jesus Christ was within me when they put me in a Sunday school for like two months. Every Sunday, when they go to mass, I go to this room and listen to the woman in white dress and she always talks about the creation and stuff like that. I have JC in me, up until now. It's not that I become atheist but I never ever became a devoted one.

Moving on to the last seconds of my free life, I look over the window again and sighed. I can't believe I even let myself to go in this school. To agree to put my remaining high school days in a school that was run by nuns and no smoking and drinking allowed. God, what am I doing? I actually expect I could be insane inside those walls. But I don't care. I've done a lot of casualties out there. I know that they want me to get better. And going to rehab doesn't help, like, at all.

Maybe this one will help. I sure hope it does cause I'm tired breaking their hearts.

"I think we're almost there, sweetie." My mom said in a soft voice, put her left hand on my dad's thigh. Gia and I looked at each other and smiled.

My parents can look like teenage couple if they want to. That's how their romance never dies after being married for seventeen years.

"Rue," My dad called, his eyes found me on the rearview mirror.


"You good?" He asked. Mom looked over her shoulder. She rests her pointy cheeks on the side of her seat as she put touch my hand. I leaned forward and she tightens the hold and give it a reassuring squeeze that twitches in my heart.

"You'll be fine there, baby. I promise you." Mom smiles.

I smiled back and tried my best not to let our a tear cause it will be embarassing. Then, I feel Gia next to me. She leaned to my side and rests her head on my shoulder and that's when I cannot hold the waves of tears anymore. I started crying like a baby, sniffing and sobbing like I am actually being sent to a prison.

My dad takes off his eyes on the road, to look over his shoulders and smile at me and that's when everything starts to crash.

Like, literally, crashing.

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