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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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