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ARGGHHHHH—

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—

Ma.

Ma… I miss you.

I miss you so much.

"Sia!! Open the door!"

"Sis, Pl–Please open the door…"

I heard my brother crying outside the door I had locked.

My father continued shouting desperately.

Why.

Arrghhhhh

I…I just wanted to live a normal life.

I want to wake up on my mother's lap…I want her to make sleep, I want her to scream at for ssing her room.

All these years…I've been a good girl.

My room was no longer a ss ma…

I-I even combed my hair and listened to Dad.

Rember the days you looked at and smiled?

Calling your baby?

Ma?

Where are you?

I want you back.

Please.

Oh god.

Plea—

I broke into a ss of snot and sobs.

5 months.

That's how long it took for my whole life to change.

And guess what?

We were no longer royalty.

That should have been good, right?

Right?!?

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms, leaving crescent-shaped marks on my skin. It hurt, but not as much as this hole in my chest. Not as much as knowing she was gone.

Not just gone.

Killed.

A fresh wave of pain crashed into .

I gasped, curling myself in a cocoon as I tried holding myself together.

But I was already breaking, already falling apart.

BANG.

"Sia!! Open the door!"

Each pounding shook the door harder, each hit a reminder that I wasn't alone.

But I wanted to be.

"Sis, at least listen to ..." My brother's voice cracked with tears.

I squeezed my eyes shut. No. No, I didn't want to hear them.

All I wanted was to wake up and realise this was a bad dream.

I wanted to run into my mother's arms and have her stroke my hair.

I wanted her to laugh and call her baby again.

But she was gone. And she hadn't just died.

She was murdered.

Poisoned.

My stomach twisted violently, and I gagged, coughing loudly as my body rejected the truth.

It wasn't fair.

Another loud bang*

"Sia, please! You have to listen to !" My father's voice broke through the door. "I… I should have told you sooner—"

I let out a hollow, broken laugh. Told sooner?

"You should have told ?!" I scread, my voice cracked from all the crying. "You should have told before she died! You should have told before I spent all these years hating her for leaving !"

Silence.

Then, his voice ca soft. Careful. "I did it to protect you."

My hands shook. I dragged my nails down my arms, leaving red, angry marks. "Protect ?" I whispered. "You lied to . You let believe she just got sick and died."

I turned to the mirror, staring at the girl on the other side.

Pale skin, red-rimd eyes, lips trembling.

She looked weak. Pathetic.

And I hated her.

With a choked sob, I ripped the clutcher from my hair and hurled it at the mirror. It hit the glass with a sharp clink before falling to the floor.

"You let grieve alone," I whispered. "You let be angry at her instead of the people who actually killed her."

More silence.

Then, my father spoke. "I—" His voice wavered. "I couldn't risk you getting hurt."

A bitter smile twisted my lips. "But she got hurt. And you said nothing."

I grabbed the nearest sharp object—a knife. My reflection in the mirror wavered, blurred by tears.

I grabbed a handful of my hair and cut.

The long strands fell to the floor, slipping through my fingers.

Again.

And again.

My once-long hair barely reached my shoulders now. My hands shook, breath rough and uneven, but I didn't stop.

I deserved this.

I wanted to erase this version of .

Tears blurred my eyes.

"Sia!! Stop this!" My father slamd against the door, the wood trembling under his weight this ti. "Please, open the door!"

I let out a dry chuckle. "Open the door? So what? So you can lie to again?"

Another silence.

Then, his voice softened. "I don't want to lose you too…"

I froze.

For a second, just a second, sothing inside wavered.

But then I rembered—he had already lost .

He lost the day he chose silence. A scream built up inside , burning, forcing its way out—

And then it ca.

Loud...broken.

I scread until my throat hurt. Until there was nothing left in .

My legs gave out, and I dropped to the floor.

I'm sorry I couldn't help you.

I'm sorry I fought you then for leaving .

Please forgive ....forgive your daughter.

My hands reached for my scarf—the butterfly scarf.

Her scarf.

"Ma…" My voice was small, broken.

I was sitting there alone, but I could never forget that day.

She held on to my hand tight, her sickly figure lying on the bed.

Even though I had cried and scread at her for leaving , she had never stopped loving ...even until her last breath.

"You are stronger than they will ever understand, little butterfly. Never let them cage you."

Holding onto the scarf tight, I curled my fingers around the fabric.

I bent my body down, grinding my forehead to my knees.

"Just hold my hand," I whispered.

"Tell it's okay to cry…"

Ma?

But there was no one left to answer.

No one left to hold .

No one left to tell I was still that little girl she loved.

Tears blurred my vision as I held the scarf tighter. My body shook with silent sobs.

I wasn't strong.

I wasn't brave.

I was just a girl who lost everything.

Outside the door, my father sighed. A long, exhausted sound. "Sia," he said, softer now. "I know you hate . But I—" He exhaled shakily. "I never stopped loving you."

I laughed. A bitter, broken sound.

"Love?" I whispered. "Is that what you call this?"

Silence.

I wiped my face with trembling fingers and stood up, staring at my reflection again.

No.

I wasn't the sa girl anymore.

That pathetic, weak little girl was gone.

And maybe that was for the best.

With a final, deep breath, I stepped toward the door.

I unlocked it.

The second it swung open, my father's eyes widened. His gaze imdiately jumped to my hair—now uneven, choppy, and barely reaching my shoulders.

"Sia…"

I stared at him, my expression empty. "I won't cry anymore."

His face fell. "Sia, you don't have to—"

"I won't cry," I repeated, voice flat. "Not for her. Not for you. Not for anyone."

He swallowed hard. "Sia—"

"Tell who killed her."

He trembled, eyes darting away.

I took a step closer.

"I am way stronger than you think, father."

"Tell . Or I'll find out myself."

His hands clenched into fists. "It's not that simple—"

"It is," I interrupted. "Either you tell , or I'll make sure every single person responsible suffers."

His jaw tightened. "Revenge won't bring her back."

I let out a cold laugh. "No, but it'll make sure no one else takes what's mine ever again."

Sothing in his face changed. Like he finally saw what I had beco.

Or maybe… what I had always been.

"Sia," he whispered. "Don't do this."

I tilted my head, a small, humorless smile curling my lips. "You don't get to tell what to do anymore, Dad."

And with that, I stepped past him.

For the first ti in my life, I didn't feel like his daughter.

I felt like sothing else entirely.

***

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