RIVAL HEARTS: Forbidden Love Triangle

The evening sky continually grew darker as raindrops lashed the roofs of buildings in Boston, and thunder kept rumbling like powerful drums. I gripped the car keys tightly, trying to slip past the living room without him noticing me. “And where exactly are you heading to?” A loud, deep masculine voice stopped me from behind. “Uhm, I… uhm, want to get something from the store down the block,” I stammered. “And you are taking the car along with you?” “Father, it’s raining outside and…” I tried to explain, but his voice cut in. “Silence, Ama! Do you know how much it cost me to repair that car? The same car that broke down because of you. Thirty dollars wasted!” His voice became more aggressive. “I didn’t do anything,” I whispered, but my voice was barely heard. “You are to blame for your mother’s illness. Ama! You are good for nothing!” I could see the rage in his eyes as he stared at me with disgust. “STOP! STOP! STOP IT!” I screamed in pain. The whole room that was full of shouts became a graveyard, and the raindrops outside became a melodious rhythm. “Why do you hate me so much? What have I done to deserve this from you? Even when I graduated from college with distinction, you took me as a failure. All of my efforts to make you proud of me have been nothing but in vain.” My father stood there in shock, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide. This was the first time I had ever spoken back to him while he was scolding me. “Why, Father? Why don't you love me? In my twenty-three years of living, I've longed for a father's love. My father's love and—” “Who is your father? I am not your father” he said as he interrupted me. Once again, the room erupted into silence. “Please, my love, let's all calm down.” Following the direction of the voice, it was my mother. She kept sobbing in the corner. My father turned towards my mother and said “Don't you think it's time to let the cat out of the bag? Let her know the truth.” “What truth?” “No, please. Don’t tell her.” My mother collapsed to the ground in tears and anguish. She kept begging my dad not to tell me. “What are you guys talking about? Father, what is Mom saying? What are you saying? I am your daughter. Why did you say I am not? I asked, but they both turned a deaf ear. My mother kept shaking her head, signalling to my father not to let me know. “Father?” I whispered. “I am not your goddamn father, you brat! I am not your father. Your father is evil. You are carrying the blood of a killer, not my blood.” He turned to me so violently sending terror to me, nearly hitting me. I used my hands as a support to cover my face in fear. My heart kept racing, and my lips kept trembling in fear. I lifted up my gaze and his hands were still frozen in the air. I stole a glance at my mother on the floor. Her eyes poured out tears and her mouth held secrets, but she didn't utter a word. “Fine!” I said as I stormed out to my bedroom. “Ring, ring.” (Call forwarded, calling Emilia.) “Hey, Emilia?” “Hey, bestie, how are you?” Emilia replied “Can I stay over at your place for a while? I’m coming to New York tonight.” “Okay, no problem. Are you fine? You sound upset. You good?” Emilia asked. Fighting the urge to break down. “I would explain when I get there. See you later,” I said and cut the call. I stuffed my belongings and tossed them into the box. My chest tightened as I remembered his words— “You are good-for-nothing, Ama.”. “He doesn't consider me his daughter. So he makes up lies that I am not his daughter. If he isn't my father, then who is?” I thought to myself while packing. I packed up my remaining belongings: my personal diary, my medications, and a little cash at hand. His words still rang in my head, and I vowed to myself to prove him wrong. I grabbed my bags and went straight for the main entrance. “Ama, please don't leave, please. I’m trying to protect you” My mother kept begging me as I reached the living room. “Protect me from what? From who?” But there was no response from her. I pushed open the main door, and the rain rushed towards me like a tornado. But I didn’t stop to think twice about the decision I was about to take as I made my way down into the wet streets of Boston. *** On arrival at the bus station, wet and dripping from the rain, I hopped on the next bus going to New York and found a vacant seat by the window, leaning my head onto it. A thought popped into my mind; Had I made the right choice? “Ding.” A text message from Emilia: Hey girl, I just got home. Call me when you arrive in New York. Be safe. A smile developed on my face seeing her text message, knowing I had her support. But that smile quickly vanished. I took a deep breath, swallowed my medications, and tried to push away the feeling of anxiety. I convinced myself that it was the right decision, though I didn’t know what to expect in New York. My back was soaked with cold sweat, and my damp clothes only added to it. I gripped the strap of my bag tightly. But the thought of starting a new life in a new city made my heart race even more. The bus hit a bump, but I remained steady in my seat. My hands were moist as the bus approached the city. Pressing my head against the window, I focused on calming the storm inside me. I had always had dreams of owning my own accounting firm one day, but my father, sorry, ‘supposed father’ wasn't in support of any of my dreams. Minutes went by, and I was already feeling a sense of calmness. I glanced out, and it was vivid to me—the popular city with its symbolic Statue of Liberty. My heart skipped a beat at the reality unfolding before my eyes. I inhaled deeply, trying to keep myself in order, and then the bus speaker came to life. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to New York City.” This was it—the moment I had been waiting for; a life that I had no idea about, just hoping for the best. With a little bit of fear inside me, I anticipated what New York had in store for Ama Wellington. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are at our final destination,” the bus’s automated system announced. I pulled out my phone to text Emilia: Emilia, come pick me up. I’m at the bus station. “Ok babe, I’m on my way,” Emilia replied quickly. The bus slowly hit its brakes, and it was time to get out. A bright smile spread across my face as the city lights hit me while I got off the bus. I couldn't stop looking around. Just then, I saw two men dressed in neatly tailored black suits. They had mini microphones hanging on their ears, and they kept looking straight at me. Buzz Excited, I glanced at my phone, hoping it was Emilia, but it was a message from an unknown number. Welcome to New York City, Ama Wellington. I've been expecting you. My hands began to fidget so hard that my phone nearly slipped from my hands. I looked up, and the two dressed men were gone… "Like they were never there. “What the f**k…” I whispered