I'm not Her

Chapter 3

I cut him off with a hard punch, hard enough that his head snapped back against the wall. My knuckles stung, but I didn't care. I'd had enough of this guy. I grabbed Amira, pulling her away from him, ignoring her protests as I dragged her out of that awful house.

She stumbled after me, clutching my arm, "Mari, wait—" she started, her voice small and trembling.

But I didn't stop. I didn't say a word. I just kept walking, guiding her down the stairs, through the crowd, and out the front door, feeling a strange calm settle over me. I'd done my part. I'd protected her, just like I always did.

I yanked the passenger door open and shoved Amira into the seat, her teary eyes still wide, trying to explain herself.

"Look-Amari! Listen, don't be mad at me please-"

Before she could say another word, I slammed the door so hard the car rattled, and her mouth snapped shut. I stormed around the front, jaw clenched tight, fists balling by my sides. Getting in the driver's seat, I could still feel the sting of adrenaline in my knuckles from hitting Kevin back there, but the anger still burned hot.

As I clicked my seatbelt in, Amira's voice broke the silence.

"Look... Mari, please, don't tell Dad what you saw. I'm so... I'm so messed up right now, okay?" Her voice was barely a whisper, all cracked from crying, but I could feel her desperation, like she was reaching for any chance to get out of this.

I rolled my eyes and turned the key in the ignition, the engine rumbling to life. I didn't even bother to look at her.

"Ugh, just say something, Amari! Don't just sit there, ignoring me!" she snapped, her voice shaky but loud. She was starting to break down, and I could feel her stare, heavy and intense.

I exhaled, knuckles whitening on the wheel as I finally spoke, "It's your fault, Amira. I told you to cut things off with him. I warned you so many times, but no, you just had to keep going back to him, chasing him around like a stray dog," I spat, not even trying to hide the frustration in my voice. My eyes steady on the road ahead.

I glanced at her briefly. Her face was a mess—smudged mascara, tangled hair, red puffy eyes. She looked broken, but that only made me feel angrier. I knew she'd put herself in this situation, and I was tired of always having to clean up the pieces.

She turned to me, her hands shaking as she wiped a tear off her cheek. "Really, Mari? You're saying that because you've never been in love! Wala kang alam!" she yelled, her voice rising, defensive. "I love him, Amari! You don't understand what that feels like! And maybe one day, you will!"

Her words hit me like a slap. Love? That's what she called this mess? I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to yell right back.

"Maybe I will, Mira. But I'll never be as stupid as you," I replied, the words like ice. Mas lalo kong hinigpitan ang pagkakahawak sa manibela."Just look at yourself. You're blinded by this so-called love, chasing after some jerk who doesn't even respect you. He's just using you, Mira. You're his toy, and he's tossing you around whenever he feels like it. Tanga mo."

She flinched, but I didn't stop. She needed to hear this.

"Alam mo naman red flag ang tao pero ikaw naman itong red flag enjoyer-That was totally bullshit!" I said, my voice a little softer but still sharp. "You think he'll change for you? That he'll suddenly become the guy you dream about? Wake up, bitch."

She shook her head, looking down at her hands, her fingers twisting nervously. "It's not like that..." she whispered, almost to herself. "I know he's... he's messed up, but he loves me. I know he does. Deep down, he cares."

I let out a bitter laugh, unable to keep the frustration from spilling over. "You keep telling yourself that, but it doesn't make it true, Amira," I replied, glancing at her. "If he cared, you wouldn't be here crying your eyes out, hoping I don't tell Dad. You wouldn't have to sneak around just to be with him. A guy who loves you wouldn't make you lie or feel like crap every time you're together. Tandaan mo 'yan. Itatak mo sa kukuti mo."

She didn't say anything, just stared out the window, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. I felt a pang of guilt, seeing her like this, but I reminded myself that I wasn't the one who dragged her into this. She did this to herself, and I was done picking up the pieces.

Then she whispered, almost too soft to hear, "You don't get it, Amari....Love isn't that simple."

I clenched the wheel harder, resisting the urge to argue. Maybe I didn't know much about love, but I knew what it wasn't. It wasn't this.

"If that's what you think love is, then you've got it all wrong, Amira," I said quietly. "Love shouldn't hurt like this. Love doesn't leave you begging for attention from someone who doesn't even deserve you."

She sniffled, wiping her face, her shoulders slumping. I could tell she wanted to say more, to defend herself, to defend him, but even she knew deep down that she couldn't.

We drove in silence, the weight of our conversation hanging heavy in the air, filling every corner of the car. Maybe she'd think about what I'd said. Maybe she'd finally see Kevin for what he really was. But as I glanced over and saw her staring out the window, looking more lost than ever, I couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever learn.

After a while, the car got quieter. The arguments simmered down, and Amira just sat there, sniffling every few minutes, her fingers nervously twisting in her lap. I kept my eyes on the road, feeling the silence settle between us, thick and kind of uncomfortable.

"We broke up..." she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

I glanced at her, feeling the familiar tug of frustration and, yeah, maybe a little pity. This was, what, the five time they'd "officially" ended things? It was hard to feel sorry for her after seeing her go back to Kevin so many times, even though he treated her like she didn't matter. I just sighed, focusing on the road again. Nakakatang talaga mag mahal. Tsk.

"Look... Mari, I'm serious this time," she said, her voice wavering. "It's different now. He told me that... that he got Cassy pregnant." Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands, shaking her head as the tears started again. "That gold-digger b***h!"

Cassy. Her ex-best friend. I clenched my jaw. I sighed and muttered, "Well, maybe this is a lesson for you. You kind of deserve it anyway—"

"Screw you!" she snapped, swinging her hand to slap my arm. Her eyes were red and puffy, and I could see the fire flaring back in them, even through the tears. "Thanks ha! a lot for being such a supportive twin!"

I couldn't help it—I burst out laughing, shaking my head at her. I mean, here we were, in the middle of this mess, and she looked like... well, like something straight out of a horror movie. Hindi ko siya kayang matitigan ng matagal dahil sa magulo niyang make up.

"You look like Annabelle right now, you know that?" I teased, smirking as I glanced at her.

She groaned, wiping her face with her sleeve. "Shut up," she grumbled, but a little smile slipped through as she smacked my arm again. "Just... slow down, okay? Let me fix my face. If Dad sees me like this, he'll lose it, and you better keep your mouth shut, got it?"

I rolled my eyes but let up on the gas, slowing down as we got closer to the house. She flipped open the sun visor and checked her reflection in the little mirror, grimacing at what she saw. Mascara streaked her cheeks, her lipstick was a mess, and her hair looked like she'd gone through a tornado. She dug into her purse, pulling out a makeup wipe, and started cleaning herself up, sniffling every now and then.