Tragic Day
The rain was relentless today, hammering against the glass windows of our high-rise condo like a thousand tiny fists. It matched the chaos inside my head perfectly. I stood on the balcony, gripping the cold marble railing until my knuckles turned white, looking down at the city blurred by grey sheets of water. It was beautiful, in a depressing sort of way, but right now, it felt more like a cage.
"You can't keep doing this, Sienna!"
The voice came from behind me. It was my father, Don Roberto Romero. The name meant power, meant money, meant respect. But to me, it just meant coldness. He stood in the doorway, his expensive suit impeccable, his face a mask of stern disapproval.
I didn't turn around immediately. I just took a deep breath, smelling the wet concrete and the earth. "Doing what, Papa? Living? Or just not being the perfect doll you want me to be?"
"Stop being dramatic!" he snapped, stepping closer. "You are a Romero! You are supposed to be graceful, elegant, poised! Not… not this reckless, loud girl who laughs at everything and acts like a child!"
Ah, there it was. The same speech I’d heard a thousand times. He hated how I was. He hated that I wasn't like the other socialites who walked with their noses up in the air and spoke in whispers. He hated that I was… well, me.
"I am your daughter, not your asset," I said, finally turning to face him. My heart was pounding, not just from anger, but from that familiar ache of never being good enough. "I can't help it if I'm silly sometimes. I can't help it if I see the funny side of things even when everything is serious. That’s who I am!"
"That is not who you should be!" he shouted, his voice booming. "Your mother spoilt you too much! She let you get away with everything, being too gentle, too soft! Look at you! Acting stupid just to get attention!"
"Don't bring Mama into this!" I retorted, tears stinging my eyes. "She loves me for who I am. She doesn't try to change me!"
"Your mother is too kind for this world," he scoffed, his eyes hard as stones. "And look where it gets us. I work hard to build this empire, and I have a daughter who acts like a fool. Sometimes I wonder… sometimes I wish you were more like the women in our history books. Quiet. Dignified. Useful."
"Useful?" I laughed, but it was a bitter, broken sound. "So I’m only good if I’m useful? If I behave?"
"Yes!" he roared. "So start behaving like a lady, or get out!"
The anger exploded inside me. All the frustration, all the feeling of being misunderstood, all the weight of expectations crashed down at once. I stepped back, my emotions getting the better of me. I wanted to show him. I wanted to scream that I was more than just his image.
"Fine!" I yelled back, tears flowing freely now. "You want perfect? You want dignity? Well, you can have it without me! Maybe I’m just too stupid for your perfect world!"
I was so caught up in the shouting, so blinded by my tears and rage, that I forgot where I was standing. The marble tiles were slippery from the rain I had let in. My foot slid on the wet surface.
For a split second, I saw my father’s eyes widen. Fear flashed there, real and raw. "Sienna!"
I tried to grab the railing, but my hands slipped.
"SIENNA!"
I felt the wind rush past my ears, violent and loud, drowning out my father’s scream. The world tilted. I looked up one last time, seeing the balcony shrinking away, seeing his horrified face, and then… nothing but grey sky and falling.
It happened so fast. One moment I was arguing, fighting to be myself, and the next, gravity took control. I felt a sharp jolt of pain, and then… darkness. Absolute, heavy darkness.
Is this it? I thought, as my consciousness faded. I died being the 'stupid' girl he hated. I hope he’s happy now.
But deep down, amidst the fear, there was a strange thought. If I get another chance… I won’t change. Not even a little bit.
And then, everything went silent.
