Leap Of Faith (English Novel)

“Isn’t she that murderer?”   “The one who set her parents on fire?”   “Creepy right? What’s she doing in our school?”   I can hear them all, the whispers. I can feel the stares and the contempt within them. But I kept my head down. Keep it low. Do not standout. That is the only way I know to survive this new world I now live in.   I quietly let myself in the classroom and walked all the way to the back. I chose the seat at the very corner, hoping I could somehow hide from everyone’s eyes. But of course, that was impossible because their stares never left me. I am a “murderer” after all.    “What’s wrong with your Dad? Why’d he took in that---?” came a voice from a few seats in front, loud enough for me to hear. Intentionally? Maybe, because the next one was from a voice I do recognize.   “Tell me about it. I told him against it but he insisted on taking in that--- ‘thing’. You now my Dad. He loves doing charity, even towards filthy, creepy little things.”   I lifted my eyes to catch Jenny and her friend looking at me. And as if disgusted that our eyes met, she immediately looked away, same with her friend.   I smirked. So now I’m adopted? But what do I expect from Jenny anyway? That she’d proudly tell everyone that she has a “murderer” for a half-sister?   If I had a choice, I would have chosen to be thrown to an orphanage instead of being taken in as a bastard daughter of the Collantes’, one of the most prominent families in the Philippines. I haven’t even known that I was related to that family until last month, after that fire that killed my Mom and her husband.   I still remembered that day when I first met my biological father. It was days after the fire. I was left in the custody of social welfare after I had provided my statement regarding the fateful day. They said I will be in their care until they can find a family that could take me in. I was tempted to tell them to just stop the search as I no longer have anyone I could call a family. I was sure I was already alone in the world after my Mom died. Because if there is someone out there who is related to me, then they should have come to help us get out of that hell of a life a long time ago. But there wasn’t.   Until he came. He was wearing an elegant three-piece suit. He is very different from the man I lived with for years. They said he is my father, but he didn’t even hug me. I don’t care. I don’t know him anyway.   Don’t get me wrong. I have always known my Mother’s husband was not my biological father. He was a piece of trash, that man. And my Mother always says my true father is a good man. I’d bought that when I was younger. I just thought that my father might have died because he never came for us even though we were not exactly living well. When I got older, I realized maybe he was not dead. He just does not care enough to find us, to find me, his daughter. And I guess I’m right. Yey me! There was no tearful reunion, he just introduced himself to me and took me to their mansion where I met his wife and daughter. Yeah, hello to a new sister. I'd never known I have one until that day. And on my defense, it appears she had no idea as well. Judging by how she stormed to her room after my ‘Father’ introduced me to them. I don’t blame her though. Who would be happy to wake up one day having a half-sister who was investigated for a fire that killed that girl’s parents?   Yes, I was famous. I had been all over the news before my father even found me. At first, I got known because I was a survivor. I survived the fire that killed my parents. That is until they’ve had my statement and investigated further. No signs of someone else starting the fire. Someone from the inside started the fire, they’ve concluded. And I was the only witness to what happened, a 14-year-old who lived to tell the tale.   From being the survivor, people started to think I was the arsonist. The murderer who killed her own parents for who-knows-what reason. I don’t understand it at first but maybe that is the true nature of humans. People tend to believe the worst in others, even in a 5 feet adolescent frail girl like me.   If there is anything, it appears that my biological father believes that I was not the one who caused my parent’s death. I mean who would bring someone they believe to be a murderer to their own home, right?   I can’t say I am loved, but I was provided since then. I was given my own room with a huge walk-in closet with lots of clothes in them. I am being fed more than three times a day and I have servants who tend to my needs. In short, I am living better than when I was in our small home with my mother and stepfather. Only I never felt welcome.   My stepmother was tolerant towards me but never warm. And I can always feel the hostility in my half-sister’s stare. But what should I expect from them? They are the real family of my estranged father. I am just a bastard daughter who doesn’t know she has a wealthy father until her mother, who raised her, died. Adding up the weird way my mother and her husband died, I am indeed an oddball.   But I was fine by just ignoring them. That is until my father informed us that I need to start going to school again. The problem? He wants me to attend the same school as Jenny.    Jenny hated the idea of having me around, and the academy was the only place where I am not in, and now I’d be invading that as well (her words, not mine). In my case, I do not want to meet new people. I do not want a thousand more of Jennys to look at me and judge me. Can’t I just get home-schooled or something?   But of course, the bastard daughter can’t voice that out. And Jenny’s tantrums didn’t even shake our father’s determination. So here I am, thrown in the den of these hyenas, aka rich, arrogant teenage kids, who think I’m a freak. And I have to keep low so they would ignore me. “Miss Emersyn Collantes, are you even listening?!” roared someone from the front that woke me out of my train of thoughts. I stood up, startled. “S-sir?” I nervously uttered. “Daydreaming on your first day, I see. Detention! Meet me after class,” the male teacher answered sourly. “And remember, I’d be watching you, young miss.” As I get seated, I heard giggles and snorts from my classmates. Some of them even looking at me mockingly. Great Emersyn! So much for keeping low.