10pm.

I just finished all my work and immediately went to my bed. I buried my body in the foam and I lazily reach for my blanket to cover my body.

"Finally", I sighed and slowly close my eyes to fall asleep. It was all black now and I am now at peace.

Or maybe not.

"Not now please", my subconscious says.

It was around the year of 2019 and we were all gathered in the living room just like any other normal night. We shared laughs reminiscing some exciting and memorable experiences in our lives until my father starts to bring back a certain memory which includes me. Here comes my father recalling about my “obnoxious demeanor” and preaching me on how to act ladylike. A humorous transient is turning into a great cadence of preachment, a classic turning point indeed.

He pointed out my "loud laughs and articulation" which happened in a place where my aunt brought me. Growing up as the only daughter in the family, we may not be a wealthy family but he always emphasizes that I should not burst into laughter and I should cross or close my legs whenever I sit. Well, it actually makes sense. Maybe it is the influence of their family members and where he came from (province) but what he wants me to accord is far from my behavior and my will. Hearing these words from my father is an accustomed occasion.

Few moments later, he uttered that those “obnoxious demeanor” equates as a slut.

I did not see it coming. I never did. I just gave him silence as an answer which foregoes my explanation.

I immediately open my eyes.

Recently, I had some sort of dreams about my memories which I wish I could've changed.

This time it happens to be about my father, some sort of daddy issues.

Why does life wants to remind me about this petty little things?

If ever I could turn back the hands of time, then I should’ve tried my best to utter what is in my head while swallowing the lump in my throat.

“Really, a slut? I never know that you have a slutty daughter. Those actions are neither an invitation for men nor I, to be considered as a little hussy. At the top of that, the least person who I expected to say that is you.”, these were the words which were left untold.

I should’ve said those. I should’ve at least tried.