SEVERED BOND

In the confines of the prison, Ejay's frustration boiled over when his father, Mr. Azzua, made an unexpected visit right after Deep's departure. Ejay's tone was laced with anger and resentment as he confronted his father.

Ejay: "What, you too? Are you here to mock me, Father? Don't you all ever get tired of this?"

Mr. Azzua's demeanor was a mix of disappointment and sorrow, his voice tinged with a sense of regret.

Mr. Azzua: "I'm not here to mock you, Ejay. I came because I had to see for myself."

Ejay's frustration mounted, his voice rising in agitation.

Ejay: "See what, Father? Your disappointment? Your disgust with what I've become?"

Mr. Azzua's expression softened, a deep sadness clouding his features.

Mr. Azzua: "I'm here because I'm disappointed, yes. I'm disappointed in the choices you've made and in the pain you've caused. You hurt so many people, even your own family."

Ejay's retort was filled with defiance and resentment.

Ejay: "I did what I had to do! Survival in this world is ruthless, Father. You wouldn't understand."

Mr. Azzua's eyes reflected a mix of regret and a father's longing for understanding.

Mr. Azzua: "Survival at the cost of others' suffering? Is that the lesson I taught you? I hoped for better for you, Ejay. I never thought my son would cause so much pain."

Ejay's anger seemed to ebb momentarily, replaced by a bitter silence as he grappled with his father's disappointment.

Ejay: "I did what I had to do to rise, to not be invisible!"

Mr. Azzua's voice held a note of finality, tinged with a sense of resignation.

Mr. Azzua: "Rising doesn't have to mean causing irreparable harm. Your actions, Ejay, have hurt everyone, including yourself."

The conversation ended on a somber note, leaving Ejay to confront the weight of his father's disappointment and the consequences of his actions. The encounter served as a painful reminder of the shattered hopes and the irreversible damage Ejay had inflicted, leaving him to grapple with the realization that his choices had caused immeasurable pain to those closest to him.

Ejay's frustration turned into a bitter resentment as he sought to defend his actions, refusing to accept the weight of his father's disappointment.

Ejay: "I don't need your judgment! You were never there when I needed you, Father. You don't get to lecture me now."

Mr. Azzua's expression softened with a pang of regret, his voice filled with a father's longing for understanding.

Mr. Azzua: "I know I wasn't always there, Ejay, and I regret that deeply. But that doesn't excuse the path you chose. You had choices, and you chose the wrong one."

Ejay's voice cracked with frustration and anguish.

Ejay: "You don't know what it's like to be alone and to fight for every scrap. I did what I had to do!"

Mr. Azzua's tone was a mixture of sorrow and sternness as he responded.

Mr. Azzua: "I may not know your struggles, but I know this isn't the way. You chose to hurt instead of seeking a better path. You've hurt your family and your own name."

Ejay's anger flared once more, a sense of defiance underlying his words.

Ejay: "My name? What does it matter now? It's too late for your lectures, Father. You abandoned me long before this."

Mr. Azzua's eyes glistened with unspoken pain and a father's heartache.

Mr. Azzua: "I regret the distance between us, Ejay. But I can't condone what you've done. You need to accept the consequences of your actions."

The conversation lingered in a tense silence, both father and son enveloped in a heavy shroud of disappointment and unspoken regrets. Mr. Azzua's visit had served as a painful reckoning for Ejay, a stark reminder of the ramifications of his choices and the undeniable rift between him and his father. It left Ejay with a bitter realization that his actions had not only hurt others but had also distanced him further from the one person he had hoped would understand.

The conversation between Mr. Azzua and Ejay reached a critical juncture, thick with tension and unresolved emotions. Mr. Azzua's words were laden with profound disappointment and an unyielding resolve as he addressed his son.

Mr. Azzua: "Ejay, I want you to understand something. I will never forgive you, nor will I accept you as my son. The damage you've caused is unforgivable."

Ejay's face contorted with a mix of hurt and frustration, but Mr. Azzua continued, his tone resolute.

Mr. Azzua: "You will spend the rest of your life paying for your crimes. I will ensure that justice prevails and that you bear the weight of your actions. Perhaps in the next life, if the heavens have forgiven you, I might consider forgiveness."

Ejay's anger flared, and his voice strained with desperation.

Ejay: "You can't do this! I'm your son!"

Mr. Azzua's expression remained firm, unmoved by Ejay's pleas.

Mr. Azzua: "You've lost that privilege, Ejay. Your actions have severed any bond we had. You'll answer for what you've done."

The weight of Mr. Azzua's words hung heavily in the air, and the gravity of their estrangement was palpable. Ejay's frustration and Mr. Azzua's unwavering resolve clashed in a tumultuous exchange, creating an atmosphere charged with emotional tension. The room seemed to reverberate with the impact of their conflicting feelings; each word exchanged added to the widening rift between father and son.

As Mr. Azzua turned to leave, the finality of his words echoed in the air. The solemnity of the moment marked the end of an era, leaving Ejay to grapple with the stark reality that the consequences of his choices had irrevocably fractured his ties with his father. The sound of Mr. Azzua's departing footsteps served as a poignant reminder of the irreversible damage inflicted upon their relationship, emphasizing the gravity of the situation.

Left alone in the lingering silence, Ejay found himself facing the prospect of a solitary path. The weight of his actions pressed heavily on his shoulders, and the once strong familial bonds now seemed severed beyond repair. The room, once a witness to familial warmth, now stood as a witness to the aftermath of their emotional clash. Ejay contemplated the daunting journey ahead, recognizing that any chance at penance and redemption would require navigating the difficult terrain of self-reflection and atonement.