A Heart-Wrenching Short Film



I’ve discovered a respectable director that I happened to stumble upon, whose works are worthy of mention. His work is so raw, so revealing, and so heart-wrenching. Why do we pretend everything is okay when they are not? Why do we hide negative emotions as if it’s wrong and unworthy of our attention? Life and all its realities surround us. I love how raw this story is. It is but a glimpse of heartache, disappointment, confusion, injustice, and pain. Tragedy. Anger. Beautiful.




“What the fuck is your problem?
What the fuck is your deal you little cunt?!” She screamed to her sister in the driver’s seat.

“You selfish piece of shit, I fucking hate you!!”

Shock, silence, and quick thinking.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!?” she screamed again.

The sensitive girl did not say much back. Too many things were being felt at once. The idiocies of her mistake, the fear that she was incredibly wrong and selfish, the confusion of what her friends just said and what this blood-related sister was screaming. The sense of humiliation yet the feelings of familiarity like she should’ve known this is what she deserved. She wasn’t allowed to have time for herself. Her sense-of-self was supposed be beat down. It did not belong to her. She would cling onto nothing else except these words being screamed at her. This was all very familiar. This large dark sometimes-violent malicious deeply-black rageful thing taking form and screaming at her.

“You are a motherfucking piece of shit. I hate you!! You’re the worst sister in the world, you selfish bitch. You think you’re a good little Christian huh? You fucking selfish bitch. Fuck you.” she finished.

Hatred and darkness surrounded the girl in the driver’s seat. All she could feel was the rage and attacks. She didn’t know she was feeling unsafe, but she was. She thought quickly. Self-analysis. “What did I do?! What did I do?!” More self-analysis. More reflection. Criticizing voices all around her. Her sensitivities heightened. Senses raised. Everything seemed to shake at her, scream in her ear about her failures and remind her to quickly analyze what she could’ve done so bad to cause such anger and hatred towards her. “The ride. Be on time. I pissed her off cus I didn’t pick her up on time. Next time I need to be on time. I need to do what she says. It’s not okay to spend time with friends if she needs me. I can’t do that. It’s my fault she’s mad. I am selfish. I’m a bad sister. I caused her anger and harm. I am really selfish. Be on time. I should be ashamed of myself. Don’t spend time with friends. I can’t do that anymore it’s selfish,” she said to herself. She needed to prove to her sister that she wasn’t.

She was scared.

This is True Life Nexas-01



I don’t want a family.
I don’t want to have a family.
I don’t want to have a family.

I feel so silly saying this because people will be so surprised that I even think this.. But honestly.
I don’t. I really don’t.

The idea in itself is nice..
A nice family with a dog and kids…
No, actually that’s not even a nice idea to me.

I hate the idea of family. And raising my own.

I don’t want to raise a dysfunctional family.
I don’t want to be in a dysfunctional family.
I don’t want to be a dysfunctional family.

I despise it.
Because I’ve lived it. I’ve been in one.
One of the most dysfunctional families I’ve experienced.
I mean, there’s probably a lot of them out there, worse than mine.
For sure.

But really,
When people talk about the idea of having a hubby and having babies and just being happily-ever-after
I just think..
“That’s nice.. I don’t know.”

I am just so angry. With my brother, my father. My sister. My mom. Everything and everyone.
I hate the idea of having children. I hate the idea of even being in a relationship with someone so intimate to know everything about me. Just to turn away and leave me. Honestly. Honestly. Honestly. I just hate the idea of the option of being left. I just hate the idea of being so hurt again. Really. It’s something so deep. I can’t.

I’ve allowed that to happen before, let someone into my walls, and they’ve torn and destroyed them. Humiliated. Hurt. Angry. Confused. Betrayed. Lied to. Broken trust. Something’s wrong. Seriously.. so much embarrassment, so much bitterness, so much rejection, feeling worthless, chosen over. Trash. Rubbish. Last choice. Lied to. LIED TO! So lied to. A fool. Such a fool. So angry at myself.

I can’t.

No more.

Family.. Never something I enjoyed.
Family means fights
Family means yelling
Family means bitching
Family means manipulating with words
Family means getting whipped
Family means heavy responsibilities and burdens
and being left behind if I don’t come to the car on time
and somebody being choked against the wall
and attacked
and my entire closet thrown onto the ground.

Verbal abuse.
More explosions.
Attempted suicides.
Multiple times.
Emergency rooms with my sister having charcoal black liquids dripping down her mouth.
I can’t.

All the disrespect towards my mom.
The absence of a father.
The foolish son trying to control and dictate everything.
Financial burdens and shifted on everyone.
No constant provision.

I can’t.
Even the idea of it.

It’s really nice and sweet and romantic from afar, it really is.
I’ve entertained my thoughts with such sweet love from a beloved, and maybe having a safe place to raise a child.
But the past overrides everything.
And when the idea gets too close or real, it becomes a looming deathly dark cloud.
I can’t.
I don’t want to.
Don’t try to force me and change my mind.

I hate all the explosions.
Yelling, screaming, hitting.
Attacking, defending, throwing, screaming.
The mockery and manipulative words.
I can’t handle it.

No no, no family for me.

It’s gonna be really hard to convince me.
Sometimes my heart opens,
But then it shuts closed again and again.

I’m reminded of all the hatred and bitterness and hurt from an explosive fight with my brother.
I’m reminded of why I hated him so much. And my sister so much.
I am so angry and so hurt.

But I am calm.
I am resentful.
But I don’t need to let their words manipulate me or affect me anymore.
Or affect my identity or who I am.
Or degrade me or devalue me or destroy me.
No more.

I just don’t want a family.