On the day of the UPCAT results, I stared at my 98.7th percentile score for a long time. Then, I called my dad and said: “Dad, I didn’t come. I collapsed.”
He replied with only four words: “Get out of the house.”
I didn’t argue, I didn’t cry. I just picked up my bag and left.
A week later, he spent £200,000 on a lavish, grand party for my stepmother’s son—the kid who had just gotten a passing grade just right.
In the midst of the crowded hall, he raised his glass of wine, and a voice said in a low voice:
“My son’s talent, he’s brilliant. As a father, I couldn’t ask for more. It’s worth all my hard work.”
I just stood silently at the end of the crowd, under the stage, motionless.
I lied, and I had a deep reason. The light from my cell phone screen hits my face. 98.7.
The red numbers were too bright, painful to the eye. I turned off the screen and the surroundings inside my bedroom grew darker.
From the living room, I could hear the sound of the TV and the screaming of that woman. He said: “Chelsea are definitely going to be in the top leagues. We’ve got to make a big play.” My father’s voice—Arturo Reyes—was filled with joy: “Of course. My son should be proud and be a hero.”
My son. Those three words were like a needle pricking through my ear
I looked up his number and called him. After two rings, he answered.
“Hello?” There was a hint of irritation in his voice.
“Dad, the results are out.”
“Some?” “I’m down, Dad. I got low.”
I heard his deep, violent breath coming from the other end of the line.
Then a deafening silence prevailed. A few seconds passed before his voice was heard again as cold as ice:
“Honey, I’m going to feed you, I’m going to feed you, I’m going to take care of you, I’m going to take care of you, I’m going to take care of you, I’m going to take care of you, I’m going to take care of you, I’m going to take care of you, I’m going to take care of you, I’m going to take care of you, I
“Where am I going to put my face?”
You embarrassed me so much!”
Her voice grew louder, almost crying:
“Don’t come back here. There is no place for the useless in this house. Get out!”
The call was interrupted. The sound of a tut-tut was all that remained in the silent room.
I didn’t move. There was no emotion on my face, not even in my heart.
Half a month ago, one day after my 18th birthday.
I made my way past Dad’s library, and the door wasn’t much shut.
I heard the voice of my stepmother, Celia:
“Diane is 18. That house that her mother left behind, when are you planning to fix it? Lala wants to study abroad, in Australia or Canada, and the cost there is no joke. You don’t have enough salary.”
“It’s a great place to live in Chicago, and if we sell it, we’re going to get millions. We can invest in the future of Lala, and make our lives better.”
Dad was silent for a moment before answering:
“But his mother left it for him. It was clearly written in his last will and testament.”
Celia’s voice grew louder:
“Will? When he was a child, what did he know about the law? You Are The Father! You have the right to make decisions for him. Or maybe you’re still thinking about your dead husband, and not Layla?”
Silence again. Longer. Then, I heard Arturo’s sigh:
“Come on, let’s stop fighting. I will find a way. With the help of the “SmackDown” team, it might just be a good idea to go to college. The day will come when they will take pity on me.”
“If that happens, I’m going to give him a thumbs up. He couldn’t do anything.”
My whole body was stunned by what I heard.
That’s it. That is why they treated me that way.
My mother passed away early, and that house was her only memory. Fearing that I would be raped, he had a legal document drawn up early on with the help of a lawyer.
The house is named after me, but I have to be 18 to have full control over it.
They had been waiting for this opportunity for a long time.
I went back to my room and locked the door. All of my remaining hopes or love for my “dad” have completely collapsed.
I grabbed my phone, turned on the voice recorder, and hid it behind a burner next to the library door.
The next day I picked up the phone. Their detailed plan was recorded there—how to trick me and how to forge the land transfer documents.
Sabi ni Papa:
“If the result comes out and he falls, I’m going to kick him out. He knew that he would not be able to live without his home. If he doesn’t have a place to stay and he’s hungry, I’ll throw him some coins, that’s definitely what I want.”
There is no stain of love. There is no mercy.
I saved that recording to multiple folders and cloud storage. Now the right time has come.
I stood up and turned on the light. I didn’t have a lot of clothes on, it fit in a suitcase.
I sorted out my things, including the contents of my drawer underneath. A small wooden box.
There was a picture of my mother and a copy of the will. The original was in the hands of the lawyer. I also found the title to the land. I didn’t know where I was, but my mom had been looking for me for a long time.
I put it all in my suitcase. Along with my ID, birth certificate, and ATM card. There are a few thousand pesos there, saved from previous Christmases and birthdays. That’s enough.
I closed the zipper of the suitcase. I can still hear them laughing in the living room, celebrating Lala’s “victory.” It’s funny.
When I got to the door, I stopped. I went back to what they call “home” for the last time. I don’t feel any regret anymore.
I went outside and the cold night air greeted me. I didn’t look back.
I swear, when I get back, I’ll take everything back that is mine. There is another interest.
2
I walked with my suitcase under the lampposts.
My phone was vibrating. A message from Aunt Susan.
“Honey, I’ve been cooking a sandwich. When are you going to get here?”
Aunt Susan was my mother’s best friend. Ever since my mom went missing, she’s been the only person who honestly cares and cares about me.
Nag-reply like: “Tita, papunta na po ako.”
I went to Aunt Susan’s condo in Mandaluyong. Looking out the window at the city lights, my heart sank.
There is no anger, no sadness. It is just a firm stance.
The car stopped in front of the building. I paid the driver and went into the lobby.
Aunt Susan was on the 5th floor. He opened the door as soon as he saw me.
“Dianne! What happened? “Why do you have a suitcase?”
“Auntie, can you stay here for a few days?” she asked quietly.
Aunt Susan immediately pulled me in and grabbed my suitcase.
“Oh my gosh! This could be it! The Passover is here. “Are you going to give me a piece of meat, Arturo?”
There was compassion in his eyes.
I shook my head. “He kicked me out.”
I showed him the call log and his message “Get out.”
Aunt Susan trembled with anger. “What a shame that this guy is! How did he do that?”
He sat me down and gave me a cup of hot tea.
“Don’t worry, Auntie is here. What exactly happened? Is it because of the results of the exam?”
I nodded. “I told him I was screwed.”
Auntie’s brow furrowed.
“Impossible. You’re such a smart kid, how could that be…”
“Auntie, I plan this,” I said as I looked straight at her.
Then I played the recording on my phone.
Hearing Arturo and Celia’s cold and cunning plans, Aunt Susan turned pale.
After the recording, he was silent for a long time before sighing, eyes filled with tears.
“Your mother… Her choice of man was wrong. “Dianne, I’m sorry you have to go through this.”
I grabbed Auntie’s hand. “Auntie, I’m not having any trouble. I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do.”
Aunt looked at me, from pity to admiration.
“Good boy. You’ve got to be brave. You’re smarter than your father.”
He stood up. “Stay here, I’ll support you. Just say what you need.”
Tumango ako.
“Auntie, I need you to keep my secret. Don’t let anyone know that I’m here.”
“Over the next few days, I might have to help you with a drama.”
Aunt Susan didn’t hesitate. “No problem.”
He led me to the guest room. Not big but clean and tidy.
“Take a break. Don’t think about everything in the first place. Even if the world is falling apart, you have a foundation in it.”
Lying on the bed, I could smell the smell of fresh laundry blankets. It was the first time I had ever felt so comfortable since I left home.
But I know that this is not the time to give up. The show has just begun.
The next day, I woke up on my own. Aunt Susan’s breakfast was ready.
After dinner, I asked him to come out.
I went to a large computer center, logged into the official website of the university. I entered my application number and password.
98.7 percentile score. It ranks 89th nationwide.
I screenshotted it and printed ten copies, I put them neatly in a brown envelope.
Next, I went to the bank and took all my limited money.
Finally, I called someone.
This is the lawyer my mother trusted when she was alive—Atty. Santos.
The lawyer answered.
“Atty. Santos, yes Dianne poito.”
Atty. Santos’ voice was calm:
“Dianne, yes. I remember you. What can I do to help?”
“Atty, I am 18. It’s time to take mine back.”
3
Three days passed. While Papa and Celia were enjoying Lala’s success, I was busy meeting with Atty. Santos.
“Dianne, are you sure about this?” asked Atty. Santos as he looked at the evidence I gave. “These allegations are serious. We can take back the title without going through this mess anymore.”
I smiled slightly, but there was no trace of joy in my eyes. “They didn’t just take me home. They stole my dignity and my mother’s memory. I want to watch them as everything they think of them slowly crumbles.”
It was exactly 6:00 p.m., the day of the big party for Lala.
It was held in an expensive hotel. Wearing a simple white dress that Aunt Susan had bought, I walked into the hall. No one noticed me at first because of the crowd and the noise of the music.
In the middle of the stage, Dad was standing, holding the microphone. Next to her were Celia who was full of jewels, and Lala who looked like a princess in her gown.
“Tonight,” Papa began, “we celebrate the future of my daughter, Lala. Her intelligence has enabled her to pass college and will soon be studying abroad!”
The crowd applauded. Before I could finish, I walked to the front of the stage.
“Daddy,” I called out in a loud voice.
Everything stopped. Dad turned around, and his smile was instantly replaced with hatred when he saw me.
“Dianne? What are you doing here?! Didn’t I tell you not to show up?!” he shouted, just enough for all the guests to hear.
Celia approached, her eyes widening. “Your face is so thick that you came here after you embarrassed your father for your rudeness! Security! Get this kid out!”
“Wait a minute,” I said, holding up my cell phone which turned out to be plugged into the hall’s Bluetooth system—a favor Aunt Susan had done the technician a favor earlier.
Suddenly, the music stopped. A voice echoed throughout the hotel’s speakers.
“… Di jure? When he was a child, what did he know about the law? You Are The Father! You have the right to make decisions for you…” If that happens, I’ll give him a thumbs up. He couldn’t do anything.”
My father was stunned by where he was. Celia turned pale and began to tremble. Guests began to grumble, others were already pulling out their phones to video.
4
“What’s that?! “Kill me!” he yelled, but it was too late.
Her own voice was the next to be heard:
“… I’m going to kick him out… I’m going to give him a few bucks, I’m sure he’ll do what I want.”
I looked at him, straight into his eyes. “I’m stunned, haven’t I? So you kicked me out to force me to sign the transfer of Mama’s house in your name?”
“Dianne, stop!” my father was about to yell at me, but Atty. Santos blocked him who suddenly appeared next to me.
“Mr. Reyes, I am Dianne’s legal counsel,” Atty. Santos said seriously. “We have evidence of attempted monopolization and deception of the property of a minor who is now of legal age. And there’s another…”
I pulled the envelope out of my bag and grabbed a copy of the exam result. I handed it to the nearest visitor, who was a well-known businessman and friend of Papa’s.
“Homeless Neo Pio,” Sabi Ko.
The man read aloud: “Dianne Reyes. UPCAT Result: 98.7 percentile score. Rank 89 Nationwide.”
People were getting more and more confused. “Rank 89? “That boy is a genius!” “Why did your father leave?” “It’s greedy!”
I looked at Layla, who was crying right now. “Honey, didn’t you say you were done?” But according to the records we got, you didn’t even reach the passing grade. “Your ‘passing’ result was just a fake Celia using Dad’s money that was supposed to pay for my tuition.”
“That’s not true,” Zelda said, but it was too late.
I confronted my father. “You said earlier, ‘My son is awesome, he’s so smart.’ Dad, I’m really smart. I’m smart because I know all your smells before you completely destroy me.”
Atty. Santos issued a document. “This is an Eviction Notice. Mr. Reyes, since it has been proven in the spirit of the law that the house in Makati belongs to Dianne and there has been an attempted burglary here, I am giving you 24 hours to leave the property. He is with his wife and son.”
My father sat down on the stage. Her “perfect life” and “dream life” vanished within 10 minutes.
“Dianne… Daughter… Let’s talk…” My father said with pity.
I turned my back on him. “We have nothing to talk about, Mr. Reyes. You said no? ‘Cút khỏi nhà tao’—in English, ‘Get out of my house’. I’m just going to give those words back to you.”
I walked out of the hall, forehead high, as the applause from the crowd—which had earlier been for Lala—was now for me.
It was a cold night, but I was finally free.
5
One day after the hotel scene, I was standing in front of the gate of our house in Makati. It’s no longer “our home”—it’s my home.
A white van arrived. Celia and Lala came out, their eyes closed and carrying black plastic bags of garbage in which their clothes were crammed. They didn’t have any valuables with them, because they were all bought with the money they stole from the fund Mama had left behind. Atty. Santos prevented them from taking out any belongings that did not belong to them.
“Dianne, you seem to have mercy,” Celia pleaded as she knelt down on the pavement. “Where are we going? We have nowhere to stay!”
I looked at him with no emotion. “You have a place to stay, Auntie. There was a small apartment in the country that you thought you didn’t know you bought in secret. That’s where you start again.”
Dad was the last one to come out. He looked like he was 10 years old in one night. He was holding an old photo album—the only thing I was allowed to take with him.
“Dianne… “Son,” his voice trailed off. “Please forgive me. I was blinded. I thought…”
“Do you think I’m going to be so rude?” he interrupted. “Dad, the pain you gave me can’t be cured with ‘sorry’. You threw me out in the middle of the night because you thought I was rude. I want to give you a chance to experience how I feel.”
“But Dianne, I’m still your father!” she cried, with a hint of desperation.
I smiled, a bitter smile. “A father doesn’t trade his own blood for money. A father doesn’t throw his child away like garbage. From this day forward, Arturo Reyes, you don’t have a child named Dianne.”
I closed the door. The sound of steel pounding sounded like the final dot in a long chapter of suffering.
6
Two months passed.
I was standing in the middle of the campus of the University of the Philippines. I was ready to start my first semester as a student. “I don’t need my dad’s money. With the help of Atty. Santos, I was able to recover all of Mama’s insurance and investments which was enough for my entire education and more.
My phone rang. A piece of news from Aunt Susan.
Arturo now works as an agent of something, but because of the embarrassment that came with the party, no one wants to do business with him anymore. Celia and Lala fight every day because of the hardships of life in their small home. The “perfect family” they built on top of my life has completely collapsed.
I took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air and the warmth of the sun. I took my mom’s picture in my bag and tossed it away.
“Mom, I’ve got it all back. Your memory is protected.”
By the time I walked to my first class, I was no longer the scared kid hiding in the dark. I’m Dianne Reyes—the kid they thought was a “wreck,” but in reality, had long flown higher than all of them.
Revenge isn’t always about hurt. Sometimes, the most painful reward is to live a happy, successful, and free life from those who want to bring you down.
WAKAS
