Afraid

Ashley

I walk down the streets, holding my hoodie closer, trying to avoid any personal contact with the people around me.

I try to hide my face, imagining the worst, thinking that people can actually see me. They can see through me.

It hurts, not being able to see the world the way I used to.

Nowadays, whenever I walk around the streets, I can't even see my surroundings clearly. My eyes are mostly filled with tears—probably unshed tears.

I always tell myself that I'm healing.

But in reality, I know I'm not.

My phone buzzes.

I check it.

It's my dad.

Probably the only number in my phone.

His text reads:

"Hey, sweetie. I hope you'll be back home soon. I know I'm all that strict about you coming back home late, but hey, I'm sure I don't have much to do. I mean, come on. It's almost 7 p.m., and if you want to go out with friends, just let me know so that at least I'll be calm."

I flip my phone back into the back pocket of my pants.

I know he's worried about me.

I guess he's always worried about me nowadays.

And it's normal.

I'm worried about myself too.

But I guess he's worried in a good kind of way.

I don't really know what I think about this whole idea of me going to university.

It's a really hard thing for me to do.

And I understand my dad's worry.

I can't sit home all day, all night, hoping to shut myself away from the world.

I guess I do have to go out.

I do have to meet the world head-on.

But being in a place surrounded by students—people probably my age, older and younger—I mostly feel the pain.

I feel like I'm kind of behind because of...

Never mind.

Why am I even thinking about this?

I don't want to think about such things.

I take a deep breath and walk as quickly as possible.

It's dark, and I know people possibly won't even notice my expressions.

But I feel like everyone around me is a threat.

And I don't want to feel like that anymore.

But I can't help it.

It's the only thing I actually feel and think.

I reach home.

Dad is by the kitchen, with a sandwich on the dining table.

I know he's trying his best with our new life.

Things haven't been easy for him either after...

"Hey, Ash. You're back."

"Yes, Dad. Sorry for the inconvenience."

"It's alright, sweetie. Come and take a seat," he says.

I quickly take a seat and start digging into the food.

The quicker I eat, the sooner I'll get back to my room and lock myself up.

He hates it.

I know he does.

But I can't help it.

It's the only thing that makes me feel safe.

Being alone in the dark, where no one will see me.

Where no one will see my pain.

Where I can't see myself either.

"Hey, um... what do you think about the new idea of you going to university?"

"Well, you've already made the decision. I don't think I have a say in it."

"Come on, sweetie. Don't make it sound like I'm forcing this on you. I mean, I do get that it's really hard for you, but you also have to understand that you can't stay home all your life."

He pauses.

"I'm not going to be here all your life either. You know, as much as I would love to take care of you all my life, I'm not going to live forever to take care of you. You get what I mean, sweetie?"

He tries to make a joke.

It doesn't quite work.

I'm not in for jokes.

I'm never in for jokes nowadays.

He looks at me and notices that I'm not smiling.

I barely smile nowadays.

Only when I'm faking it.

He clears his throat.

"Sweetie, um... so, are you still going with your idea of medicine? Or maybe you want to change?"

"Nah, actually, I was thinking of law. I'd like to try that out."

"Law?"

He looks at me with a puzzled expression.

But I know very well what he's thinking.

He's thinking about that incident.

He probably thinks I want to get justice.

Maybe for myself.

Or maybe for other people.

I don't know.

I don't get it either.

But it's the only thing that's been on my mind.

I don't think I can manage to take care of anybody at this point.

What I need is a job where I can just keep myself busy with notes and books.

Not really interact too much with people.

Maybe I should just go ahead and become a judge.

That would be better.

I brush off the feeling.

It makes me feel like I'm some sort of god.

"Honey, is this about—"

"No, Dad. It's got nothing to do with that. I just... I'm just not comfortable with being a doctor anymore, you know? It's a lot of blood and stuff like that. Um... I don't think I'm—"

"Alright. I get it, love. I get it. It's alright. So, law it is then, right?"

"Law it is."

I give him a fake smile.

I don't know if he even believes my smiles anymore.

Because even I can feel it.

It's fake.

"I'm done. I'll head back to my room now."

"Hey, wait—"

"I'm tired, Dad."

"Alright, alright, sweetie. Go ahead. Go ahead. I get it."

I head to my room.

I find a bunch of new clothes inside a suitcase.

I guess he's really ready to kick me out of the house.

I wouldn't blame him anyway.

Even I want to kick myself out of my own mind.

I don't bother checking the clothes.

I just make sure they're all packed in the new suitcase and then pull it right next to my wardrobe.

I better get some sleep.

Tomorrow's going to be a long day.

I guess I don't have to make an online application for the new course.

Going to university is probably one of the best things I can hope for myself at this point.

It's a rare opportunity.

And I'm going on sponsorship.

The government is sponsoring me.

Has been sponsoring me ever since...

I take a deep breath and walk out of the room into the bathroom.

I need a shower.

I need to stop thinking.

After the shower, I get dressed.

I grab my phone and turn it off.

I may not have people's numbers, but people do have my number.

And I hate it when they call me.

Putting the thought aside, I close my eyes and try to get some sleep.