Ever since it was justified that the world is round, I started listing the groups of people in this universe that I don't really need to deal with during my not-so-intriguing lifetime.
First, STRANGERS.
I blinked my eyes twice, trying to convince my self that it's not really happening, that I bumped my head on a wall or something, and everything's just a hallucination.
Okay, okay. Breathe in. Breathe out.
"Miss, ah, can you move over even just a bit? My space is a bit too tight, and I'm not feeling comfortable. You see, I'm pregnant."
Damn. It's not a hallucination. I am really in a vehicle with three wheels, and I remember the days when I don't even care what to call it! Because of how twisted this day is, I couldn't even have the guts to know how come that the Heather Cassia is in a tricycle!
"No need to tell me that you're pregnant. Not that I'm stupid to think that you're carrying a moon in your stomach." My eyes rolled and I didn't throw a single glance at her. "I'm not gonna move. There is no rule telling me that I should, anyway. Our space in this seat is finely equal."
I told the driver earlier that I will triple the pay, or even more, if he lets me ride alone, yet he didn't listen. He said that this pregnant woman here is his sister-in-law, and both of us do not have any other tricycle to call on. Whatever happening right now is entirely the consequences of their decision.
The woman moved. "Yes, Miss, indeed you are right. No one has the right to force you do something you are not obligated to do. But all I'm asking is your kindness. That's the only thing I can possibly receive in a matter where no rule is applied."
I finally faced the woman and I clearly saw how she blinked her eyes the moment she witnessed my reaction — indifferent, uncompassionate, disgusted.
Well, I have no time playing like an angel. If they think I am evil, my deepest apology folks, I don't care.
"Kindness, you say?" I laughed sarcastically. "What a luxury word. It is so luxurious that I almost forgotten it exists. Because you know," I tilted my head, my eyes are glued on the road, "if courtesy runs the world, we're now marching in an inevitable death. Because courtesy is often, if not always, the reason why a person die. Is it not suspicious? Why would a good thing kill countless of people? I don't want to show it if it will only lead me to my own downfall."
"Miss—"
"Anyway," I cut her off, "coming from your little mouth, there is no rule, so whatever my choice right now, I won't be disobeying any. Here it is: screw your courtesy. I don't need to offer you that because I am pretty sure that our paths won't cross again. So, what for?"
Second, PARENTS.
"You should not buy whatever you want, Hid. Our business is now kissing bankruptcy, you should be aware."
I put all the paper bags I am holding on top of the glass table and smilingly faced my mother.
She's still in her business attire with her eyeglasses on, making her look intimidating and distant. Nevertheless, I was never been feared by her looks, her words, her actions, and her position. Good thing she can't blame me enough because I am her younger reflection. She can't criticize her own image after all.
"Mom," I dramatically exhaled, "I need all of these. Didn't you teach me to recognize my needs?"
Folds appeared on her forehead. She did not hide her exaggerated tired exhale. "You're exactly doing the opposite, young lady. Those aren't your needs. And please, not again. We're not going to argue about this."
A fancy smile made its way to my lips. "That's why you should just shut up, Mom." For a second, I paused when I realized what I just said. Oh, careless little mouth.
"Are you disrespecting me now, Heather Cassia?" Now she's serious . . . and mad . . . and hurt. Jesus, here we go again.
"Mom—"
"Do not buy a new mobile phone, or another pair of shoes, or another set of cosmetics and jewelry, unless if it's completely necessary. Stop eating in expensive restaurants as well, because I am very much aware that we have enough food in the house. Don't abuse our money just because you think we are rich. We are now slowly going down, Hid. You're old enough, I should not be explaining now."
She turned her back to leave, but I spoke loud enough for her to hear. It made her stop just three steps away from me.
"Isn't it too much? People of my age are enjoying their lives! Isn't it a shame that you want me to experience otherwise?"
"Heather!" My mother's eyes are wide enough to tell that she's now losing her temper. "Some people in your age can't even eat three times a day. What else do you want? You are lucky compared to those living in the slums. So aee so much luckier than the thousands of children in the difficult parts of the universe. Do not be childish!"
My fingers clenched the hem of my shirt as my blood seems to rush in my head. I am also fuming with anger, but I suppressed it from appearing. I held my head high and slowly approached her.
"Children do starve due to their parents' irresponsibility. If they aren't ready to support their family, why fvck at all?"
She gasped, the sound did not able to escape my sharp hearing. Her jaw clenches. The veins on her neck turned visible that they almost popped. Her reaction is too strong for me to put a name on it.
However, I am far from being done. I am Heather Cassia Del Puerto, and I wasn't born to be corrected.
"So tell me, Mom. Were you just too obsessed with sex, or you're simply an irresponsible mother?"
"HEATHER!"
A deep, baritone voice echoed in my four-cornered room. If it's only a decibel louder, the ground will surely shake.
I did not bother to throw him a glance. A voluntary sigh escaped my lips as my fingers unconsciously played with the strands of my hair.
I know where our conversation is going, especially that dad is here. I can now clearly visualize the scenes from this minute onwards.
Yet at the end of discussion, the most appropriate conclusion came from me.
"I'm your daughter. My flesh and perceptions, my attitude and identity . . . are simply inherited by no other than you two. Now rejoice."
