
"Like father, like daughter," a phrase that echoes my hatred, insecurity, and rebellion. The weight of those words carry the fate I might follow. My father's legacy—the path full of sins and the obvious way to hell. It was as if the devil couldn't reach me, so he sent a monster—entitled as my father.
For few, they'll call it cute to hear that phrase, but to me, it was hell. For it is the reason for all the things I've avoided. The fear of being even a meter close to guys, the uncertainty of whether I want to start a relationship—afraid to turn into a person I despise.
The fact that I'm carrying his name haunts me, can I avoid such a tragic path? Every time I'm called by my last name, I feel the verge of madness and insecurity—for the monster's blood is stuck in me—a constant reminder of the darkness in the maze I'm in. I gasped for air—choked by my thoughts, but the smoke and flames have already blocked all freedom.
And I'm left to wonder—will I ever get out of this burning maze?
No matter how much I run, the shadows will always outrun me. Am I doomed to follow his footsteps? To be surrounded with the same demons that consumed him? The question swirls my mind every night—unable to sleep nor breathe. And every morning, I look at the mirror, seeking for answers—a glimpse of hope, yet all I see is a stranger with the monster's eyes and smile, I despise it.
Every family gathering, I'm stuck in my room, afraid to be seen—knowing I'll only be asked if I want to be with my father, and be told that I'll end up just like him.
Will I?
Will I be consumed by the darkness he created?
Will I become the person I’ve vowed to never become?
I hate everything that has a connection with him. The very academic subject I've loved since I was a kid became my hated one—I find myself zoning out during discussions and no longer having the energy to even try to excel, for they say I'm only good at it because of his roots.
Do I really have his roots within me?
The roots that created all those sins?
Will I forever be tied to the legacy of pain he left behind?
'Blood runs deeper than water' – what if the darkness is already in my bones, spreading its roots within me? I want to escape, to run from this doomed path, but I couldn't move—choked by my thoughts and doubts—Am I my father's daughter? Or am I my own? Will I ever be free from the weight of his name?



