Chapter 5
1704words
The moment I stepped inside that house, a familiar angry voice met me like a slap in the face.
“Well, you finally came home!” It was Aunty Anita, yelling again like it was her favorite hobby.
“Yeah… I was about to call Mr. Marquez,” Andres said casually, flashing his usual grin, Andres Vick Montenegro, he was Ana’s younger brother, son of Aunty Anita Montenegro and Uncle Valero Montenegro.
Unfortunately, also part of the twisted family I had to live with. Ana was the only missing on the house. And I wonder what is happening to them now. I smirked a little as I noticed Aunt Anita’s phone screen light up. I saw Ana was calling.
“Yes, darling?” Aunty’s voice immediately softened like honey, as if she hadn’t been yelling her lungs out two seconds ago.
I knelt in front of them, as expected, as always “I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I was left alone at the hotel and… I didn’t know how to get—” I swallowed hard. “—home.” My voice was almost a whisper.
I lifted my head slowly, just to see how they’d react. Both Uncle Valerio and Andres had their brows furrowed.
“What? What are you talking about?” Aunty said, now talking into the phone. “Yes, she’s here. She just arrived.” Aunty dart her looks at me and rolled her eyes when she met mine. But she kept her voice sweet for Ana.
“Okay, we’ll wait for you, darling. Stop crying, alright?” Aunty cooed into the phone, though the glare she threw at me could’ve set the room on fire.
Uncle turned to me, serious. “What do you mean?” “I was locked inside an empty room before the ceremony. I stayed there the whole time, until a security guard checked and unlocked it.” I explained carefully.
“What? That’s why you weren’t at the ceremony?” Andres asked, his face darkening. I gave a simple nod.
Uncle clenched his fists tightly. I saw it. And I smirked inside. Until I heard a car pulled up outside. 'She’s here.'
“You-b*tch!” Ana stormed into the house, screaming the moment she entered. “You ruined my wedding!” She rushed at me, but Andres surprisingly stepped between us, blocking her.
“What the hell are you doing!?” Ana yelled at Andress, as he was holding her back.
“What happened to you? Why are you here? You’re supposed to be with your husband,” Andres said, trying to calm her. I was still kneeling on the cold floor, but this time, I didn’t bow my head. I looked straight ahead, unbothered, as Ana continued her meltdown.
“You! Because of you, my husband is furious with me! I should’ve never told the guard to let you out of that room! I should’ve let him do whatever he wanted to you, you worthless little b*tch!” Her voice was beyond rage.
“Ana!” Uncle Valerio’s voice boomed, making everyone flinch.
“You really did that to Avaleigh?” Andres asked in disbelief. “What!? Why!? She deserve—”
“Enough!” Uncle shouted again, cutting Ana off. “You’re grounded! Andres, take her to her room!”
“What!? No! This is so unfair! It’s my wedding day!” Ana cried, sobbing and throwing a fit like a child.
“What the hell, Valerio!” Aunt Anita snapped, stepping in to defend her daughter.
"Its your daughter's wedding day!”
“And you! You should’ve known what your daughter was doing!” Uncle pointed at her sharply.
“And now you’re taking her side!?” Aunty shouted back, pointing at me with hatred in her eyes. He grabbed Aunty Anita and pulled her upstairs. I stayed silent, just watching.
“This is ridiculous! I shouldn’t have agreed to adopt that worthless child!” Aunty’s voice echoed through the hallway, sharp and furious. I froze where I stood.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Uncle Valerio grab her wrist, trying to drag her upstairs. She resisted, but he was stronger.
“Really, huh?” he snapped. “This was your plan, remember?” That was the last thing I heard before the door slammed shut.
Then came the shouting. Her voice rising and breaking, this time not in anger, but in pain. It was satisfying to hear. Then followed by broken sound of glass shattering upstairs. I slowly stood up, taking my time.
Without a word, I walked toward my room. I closed the door behind me, and only then did I let the smirk return to my lips.
When I opened my eyes, I expected lightness. Maybe even a trace of joy from yesterday. But instead, a quiet heaviness pressed against my chest.
I lay still, listening to the silence of the room. Something inside still ached, quiet and constant. It wasn’t sadness, not exactly. It was something else.
'I was satisfied yesterday… wasn’t I?'
This feeling, like a bird in a cage and unable to fly freely. I’ve been given the crumbs of freedom, but never the sky itself.
I sat up and let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My room was bathed in soft light golden and gentle. I went through the motions of my morning routine, brushed my teeth, splashed water on my face, tied my hair. Everything moved like clockwork, but I wasn’t really there.
My gaze landed on the canvas near the window. It stood there silently.
'I feel myself to paint another inspo today'
I walked toward it slowly. My fingers reached for the brush before I could think. I have this image in my mind and I begun painting it.
I started with the window full of city lights skyline outside, barely visible through the glass. It was my point of view in 'that bed' on someone's condo unit yesterday.
I dipped my brush into soft gray, then muted blue. The first strokes were light, careful. I drew the outline of the sheets, letting my hand guide itself. The canvas welcomed the colors, eager, patient.
My movements grew smoother and confident. I didn't include the bed, just the egde of it, jut 'the view' from that window beside the stranger's bed.
It was like my emotions were bleeding through the brush. I can feel my lips smiling as I imagine that view I still have in mind. This was the first time painting with a light happiness my entire life. All my paintings was created with sadness and pain I have in my heart. This piece is different.
I kept painting. I'm half way done on my piece when I heard banging on my door.
"AVA!!" It was Ana's voice.
I was alerted, I twisted my canvas facing the window as the door crashed open without warning.
Ana stood there, with frustration plastered in her face, breathing hard, holding a billiard cue.
I blinked, letting my gaze travel lazily from the stick to her fuming eyes. I remained seated. Calm. Unbothered. I tilted my head slightly as if bored. But she didn’t hesitate.
“You worthless btch! How dare you?!*” Ana shrieked, raising the stick.
Before I could react, pain exploded through my right arm. Another strike on my lower rib.l down to my leg. That one nearly made me scream.
I bit down hard, swallowing the cry, gasping for breath as fire spread across my skin. She was furious, blinded and dangerous. But I was no longer the girl who cowered.
So I grabbed the edge of the easel for balance and pushed her, hard.
She stumbled, clearly not expecting resistance. Her eyes widened when she realized I wasn't going to take her rage anymore. For a brief moment, I saw it, the fear behind her fury. I smiled.
Ana regained her footing and raised the stick again, ready to strike, but I saw Andres come behind her. Ana was ready for another strike again and I let her hit me. This time, again.
“Ana!” Andres voice roared.
He stormed into the room, eyes wide as he caught what is happening. Ana didn't listen, for the second time, she was ready for another strike but before I could feel the next pain. A dress didn't let the stick touched my skin again. He caught the stick, pulled it from Ana.
He snapped the stick cleanly in half and tossed the pieces to the side. The look on his face was pure disbelief and rage.
“Are you trying to kill her?! What the hell are you doing?!” Andres shouted.
I slowly stood up, my leg trembling from the sharp pain. But I held my head high. No one needed to help me stand.
Uncle Valerio arrived seconds later, his tall figure looming at the doorway. He looked around the room with cold eyes.
"What happened here?" Uncle asked in her cold voice and just like that, Ana’s fire died.
She dropped to her knees on the floor like a frightened child.
“D-Dad…” she stammered.
His expression didn’t shift.
“I told you you’re grounded, right? And here you are again, causing more headaches” uncle said.
Ana trembled, bowing her head.
“It’s her fault! Because of her, my husband got mad at me!” she snapped, almost in tears.
As I expected, she always blames me, it's always me, although this time, I know I did something which is enough for her to blame me.
Uncle raised a brow. “Really? I've always heard that excuse of your ever since you 10 years old Ana."
" But I'm telling the truth" Ana almost plead.
"How’s that possible when you told us yesterday that you locked her in a hotel room the entire day during the ceremony?” uncle
Her mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. Of course she couldn't say the truth. She forced me to paint. She stole my work, claimed it as hers. I remember when we were still kids she proudly showed Uncle the painting I made and basked in his praise. She was glowing with pride back then.
But now?Now she was crumbling.
I could see it in her eyes panic, shame, rage. She knew she couldn’t tell the truth. Not when she built her lie so perfectly. Not when the entire story could collapse on her with one confession.
My lips twitched into a secret smile. I tilted my head again. I gave her a 'What are you going to say now, Ana?' look.
