1 I had a happy childhood, loved and spoiled by my parents. My only problem was my dad. He still treated me like a little girl, with no sense of personal boundaries. I finally couldn't take it anymore. “Dad,” I said one day, “can you please knock before you come in next time?” He agreed, but nothing changed. I told my mom how uncomfortable it made me feel. She just laughed. “Your father adores you, Lily. He’s held you in the palm of his hand since you were a baby. He saw you crawling around naked in your crib. What hasn’t he seen?” A lump formed in my throat. “But I’m not a baby anymore.” When my dad found out I’d complained to Mom, he put on a wounded expression. “My little girl is all grown up. She doesn’t need her old dad anymore. Teenagers are just so sensitive. I’ll just stay away from now on.” My dad was always so good to me. His words made me feel a pang of guilt. Mom said I was being difficult and letting my imagination run wild. It wasn't until I posted a video online, asking for advice on how to deal with my feelings, that our happy home began to fall apart. … The candlelight from my fifteenth birthday cake flickered across my face as I closed my eyes to make a wish. I hadn’t even lowered my hands when a wet, hot kiss landed on my cheek. “My Lily is another year older!” Dad said, beaming. I went rigid. The damp sensation sent a shiver of revulsion through me. I grabbed a napkin and scrubbed at my cheek, my face contorted in disgust. “Dad! Don’t do that! You got spit all over me!” His smile froze. It was quickly replaced by an exaggerated pout. He clutched his chest, speaking to my mom in a joking tone. “Our daughter’s all grown up, Sarah. She’s too good for her dad now! She used to beg for kisses and hugs, and now I can’t even get a peck on the cheek? My heart is breaking!” Mom shot me a disapproving look. “Is that any way to talk to your father? He spoils you rotten! Look, he just bought you the newest phone for your birthday, and this is how you thank him? Such an ungrateful little thing.” I stared at the expensive phone box on the table, my throat feeling tight. “I just think… I’m older now. There should be boundaries…” “What boundaries? You’ll always be a child in our eyes!” Mom cut me off. She leaned over and planted a loud kiss on my little brother’s chubby cheek. “See, sweetie? Isn’t your sister being silly? Mommy and Daddy love you both so much, we could just kiss you all day!” That night, I tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. It was true, my dad had always doted on me, giving me anything I wanted. Very few kids at my school had a phone that expensive. I remembered other girls in my class complaining about their dads being clueless and not paying attention to details, but none of them seemed to have a reaction as strong as mine. Maybe I really am just being too sensitive, I thought. The memory of my dad’s hurt expression made me feel guilty. “Lily? Are you asleep?” The door suddenly swung open, shattering my thoughts. My dad stood in the doorway, his long shadow stretching across my bed. I flinched, pulling the blanket up to my chin, my heart hammering in my chest. “Dad! You didn’t knock again!” He acted as if he hadn’t heard me and walked straight in. “Just checking if your window is closed. The forecast said there’s a big storm tonight. The wind will be strong.” He closed the window and turned to leave. At the door, he looked back and smiled. “Alright, alright. I know you’re a big girl now, you have your rules. I’ll knock next time.” The door clicked shut. The room was dark again, but my heart refused to calm down. That creeping sense of unease was back, wrapping itself around me. The next day, after much hesitation, I went to my mom. “Mom, I talked to Dad last night about knocking before…” She didn’t even look up from feeding my brother applesauce. “He told me. Said you’re getting quite the attitude. Now he needs an official announcement to enter your room.” “It’s not an announcement! It’s just knocking!” I said, my voice rising with frustration. “I’ve told him so many times, but he never knocks. It makes me feel really uncomfortable, like I have no safety.” Her hand finally paused. She looked up at me, her brow furrowed. “What is wrong with you?” “That is your father! He changed your diapers, he gave you baths. What part of you hasn’t he seen? And now you’re talking to me about ‘safety’ from your own dad?” 2 Her tone turned serious. “Your father loves you. He treats you like you’re made of glass. How could you even think such twisted things about him? That thought itself isn’t normal!” “But I…” I wanted to argue, to tell her that the way he looked at me had changed. “No buts!” she cut me off, her voice sharp and final. “You’re a teenager. You’re hormonal, you’re overthinking things! You’ve got too much time on your hands. You should be studying, figuring out how to get your grades up.” “You’re in high school now. Things are much harder. Stop obsessing over this nonsense!” She turned her attention back to my brother, her face instantly softening into a smile. “Is my sweet boy getting impatient? Let’s have some more apple.” Listening to her coo at my brother, the words died in my throat. What if she’s right? What if my thoughts aren’t normal? The lock on the bathroom door had been broken for months. I’d mentioned it countless times. Mom would always say, “I know, I’ll get to it,” and then nothing would happen. Taking a shower became the most stressful part of my day. Dad often needed something from the bathroom while I was in there. “Lily, did I leave my razor in there?” “Your mom needs the laundry basket!” Sometimes, he wouldn’t even wait for a response before the handle started to turn. Today, I discovered the lock on my bedroom door was broken too. I couldn’t lock it from the inside. I went to my mom again. “Mom, my bedroom lock is broken. We need to get it replaced soon.” She was busy changing my brother’s diaper and didn’t look up. “You used to lock your door all the time to play on your phone. Now that you’re in high school, you can’t be doing that. It’s a good thing it’s broken. Makes it easier for me to check on you.” “I wasn’t!” I stomped my foot, furious. “I just want some privacy!” “Alright, alright, nobody’s spying on you,” she said, her voice laced with impatience. “Teenagers are so difficult. Your mind should be on your studies.” “If you get in the top ten on your midterms, I’ll get the lock fixed. I’m doing this for your own good, to help you stay focused.” I didn’t want to believe my dad had bad intentions, but I couldn’t convince myself to ignore how I felt. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t concentrate in class. I needed an answer. I needed someone to tell me if this was normal. And if I was the one in the wrong, I needed to know how to fix my way of thinking. That evening, my dad came into my room again, using the excuse of “checking the air conditioner temperature,” and stayed for a long time. His gaze lingered on my neck and arms. The feelings I’d been suppressing finally reached their breaking point. I secretly turned on my phone’s video recorder. “Dad, why are you always like this? I’ve told you so many times to knock! Why don’t you ever listen?” “And when I’m in the shower, why do you always find an excuse to open the door?” “I’m fifteen years old! I’m not a little kid anymore! You’re scaring me! What do you want?” My dad’s expression shifted from surprise to sullen anger. “What are you talking about? I’m your father!” My mom’s voice drifted in from the living room. “Alright, keep it down, you’ll scare the baby. Honey, just remember to knock, okay?” I posted the video online. I described my dad’s chronic lack of boundaries, my mom’s dismissiveness, and the immense stress and self-doubt it was causing me. [Am I just being too sensitive? How do I fix my mindset? Please, someone tell me.] I was waiting for advice and analysis from strangers when my mom saw the video. She stormed into my room, her face pale with fury, shoving her phone in my face. “Lily! Look what you’ve done! Look what these people are saying!” 3 The screen was a blur of furious comments and shares. “What kind of father is this? He’s clearly a creep!” “Is the mom dead? Her daughter is literally begging for help and she’s just sitting there doing nothing!” “She’s probably one of those mothers who only cares about the son. She doesn’t give a damn about her daughter.” My mom’s eyes were red with rage. She slapped me, hard, across the face. I cupped my cheek, staring at her in disbelief. It was the first time she had ever hit me. My mind went blank. “Mom…” “They’re strangers! What do they know?” she screamed, not giving me a chance to speak. “You’re his daughter! He’s watched you grow up! So what if he looks at you? Is a piece of you going to fall off?” “Are you trying to ruin your father’s reputation? Will that make you happy?” I’d never seen her this angry before. I was terrified. “No, Mom, that’s not it. I was just confused…” Just then, her phone rang. She answered it, exasperated. “Hello, is this Sarah? This is CPS.” “We’ve seen a video concerning your daughter online, and its contents are very troubling.” “We’d like to understand the situation at home to ensure your daughter’s safety and well-being. When would be a good time for us to…” As soon as she hung up, her face was a mask of pure fury. “Are you satisfied now? You wanted your father investigated? You wanted me to be called a bad mother? You wanted to tear this family apart? Is that what you wanted?” “Delete that video! Now!” “Look at the trouble you’ve caused!” I never imagined it would blow up like this. I was scared to death. I deleted the video, tears streaming down my face. “Mom, I didn’t mean to cause trouble.” The video was gone, but her anger still burned. “You spend all day watching toxic videos online, it’s rotting your brain!” “We raised you, we fed you, we sent you to a good school, and you turn on us like an enemy?” “Your father is the one who spoils you the most, and this is how you repay him? By slandering him?” I tried to make her understand. “But what he’s doing is wrong!” She looked down at me, her voice dripping with contempt. “Did he hit you? Did he yell at you? Did we ever deny you food or clothes?” “All he did was not knock. And for that, you wanted to ruin his life?” “Lily, when did your heart become so poisonous?” Every word she said felt logical. I couldn’t argue. But an unspeakable sadness filled my heart. To fix the mess I’d made, my mom took out her phone and filmed a new video. “I want to apologize to everyone for taking up your time,” she said, her voice full of weary regret. “Our daughter has been spending too much time online. She thought it would be fun to make a ‘scripted video’ like the influencers she sees. We never expected it to cause such a misunderstanding. We are so sorry for the trouble.” The camera turned to my dad. He walked over to me and gently clipped a strawberry barrette into my hair. “Silly girl,” he said, his voice dripping with affection. “You can’t pull stunts like this anymore.” I nodded and whispered, “I know.” After the video of our happy, reconciled family was posted, public opinion flipped instantly. 4 “See? You always have to wait for the full story!” “Kids these days will do anything to get famous, even throw their own dad under the bus.” “What a waste of my sympathy! I was so worried about her, turns out she’s just an actress!” The online mockery spilled over into my school life. My classmates looked at me differently. “That’s her. The one who made up a story about her dad to go viral.” “You’d never guess. She’s so quiet in class, but she’s so calculating.” Even my homeroom teacher called me in for a talk. “Lily,” she said, her voice thick with disappointment, “seeking attention through dishonest means will not help you in the long run. You need to focus your energy on the right things.” I had no way to defend myself. Everyone thought I was the problem. But how was I supposed to quiet the unease in my own heart? Everyone who knew my dad said he was a model husband and father, loving and caring, without a single flaw. I was trapped in a prison of self-doubt. I couldn’t focus. I was in a constant daze. On my first high school midterms, my grades plummeted. My mom looked at me, her face a mask of disappointment. “Lily, you were never like this before. What happened to you?” A tremor went through me. Her quiet disappointment was scarier than her yelling. Does this mean she won’t fix my lock? The thought sent a wave of panic through me. That night, as I was struggling with my homework, there was a knock on my door. I was surprised. Dad had actually knocked. He came in, closed the door behind him, and sat on the edge of my bed, ready for a heart-to-heart. “Lily, I saw your report card. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. I know you’re hurting.” Being alone with him in a closed room made me nervous. I didn’t say anything. He continued, “Your mother’s attention is all on your brother now. I’ve seen it. She hasn’t really paid attention to you in a long time, has she? I know you feel neglected.” My nose began to sting. His words hit the deepest, most secret wounds in my heart. He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice, and dropped a bombshell. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about for a long time, and I think you have a right to know. You… you are not my biological daughter.” I snapped my head up, so shocked that I didn’t even notice how close he was to me now. “She was already pregnant with you when she married me.” His voice grew even softer. “I was the one who took you both in, who gave you a home.” “The only one who truly cares about you is me.” “Your mother has given up on you because she depends on me. She knows you’re unhappy, but she pretends not to see. She’s doing it on purpose.” “That’s not true!” I cried, shaking my head. “You don’t believe me?” He chuckled softly and gestured toward my door. “Go on, check. See if the lock is fixed.” I stumbled to the door, my fingers trembling as I reached for the knob. Click. The door could be locked from the inside. But Mom had said she wouldn’t fix it unless I got in the top ten! “Why do you think she fixed it? Why do you think she took your brother out tonight?” “She’s doing me a favor.” He pinned me against the door, his fingers tracing a line down my cheek, his gaze sticky and vile. “I’ve raised you for fifteen years. It’s time I collected some interest. If you’re a good girl, we can continue to be a happy family.” “But if you’re not…” He paused, his lips brushing against my ear. “No one will believe you anyway. You’ll always be my good little girl. There’s no escape.” The shock of my parentage, my mother’s betrayal, my father’s threats—my world shattered into a million pieces. I don’t know how much time passed before I heard a commotion from downstairs. My mom, carrying groceries and pushing a stroller, returned to our apartment complex to find a crowd gathered at the base of our building. “What’s going on?” she asked a neighbor. “Oh, it’s awful! I think someone jumped!” the neighbor said, her face pale. “Oh, Lord. I hope the kids don’t see. Lily needs to study,” my mom muttered, trying to navigate the stroller around the crowd. As she passed a gap in the people, her eyes glanced inward. Her pupils shrank to pinpricks. The bags in her hand crashed to the ground, groceries scattering across the pavement.
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