CHAPTER 1: The List

443 8 18
                                    

               "A man dies ... only a few circles in the water prove that he was ever there. And even they quickly disappear. And when they're gone, he's forgotten, without a trace, as if he'd never even existed. And that's all."Wolfgang Borchert, The Outsider

               My life was a little bit strange and rather tragic. I grew up with no one except myself, my mom Lily and my cat dory. My father left me – that is what I try to believe in although my “new” mom keeps on telling me that he died too – when my biological mom passed away in a fatal car accident when I was three. I don’t know if she is hiding something from me but as far as I remember, his body was never found on the site. There was no burial for him that ever happened. No one had a clue about it or maybe it was only I who doesn’t know the truth. I even remember that when I was young, every time I would ask mom about him and the accident, she would just scold me to go back to my room and read a book instead. I used to read and finish a book within two days. It started with photo books then poems then essays until I saw myself obsessed with novels. The classic ones. Somehow I kept on asking the same question, bothering her until I was twelve where I started to grow tired of not getting an answer. Up to this very day, I still don’t know a thing about it and as much as I want to think that he died too, I just can’t. Something inside me tells me that he isn’t and that I should look for him though I barely have a clue where to start.  It was really sad actually, especially when you need someone to talk to yet nobody is there particularly in “boy’s talk”, you know those sort of stuffs about adolescence, growing up, the world of dating, falling in love, parties, drug and even sex. I couldn’t tell it to mom since it would ruin my ego and she would definitely not understand since she was never married. Also, I think it would be very awkward talking to her about condoms and masturbation. So I grew up discovering them myself.

               Back when I was still in middle grade – oh, how I can still even remember that time – a day came where my teachers asked us to bring our parents for the upcoming parent-child day. And because I had no parent to come over (mom was out of town back then to pick up some packages), my teachers asked the parents of my classmate to pretend that I was a part of their family so that I won't feel lonely. Of course, everyone became excited for that day and played lot of parlor games which includes sack race, those kind where you are going to wear a sack over your feet up to your hips and start jumping like retarded kangaroos and the longest line where your aim is to create the longest line using all the items you are currently wearing like belts, socks even shirts and sometimes, underwear. Everyone loved that game except me. I think it was more of a stripping game, the more naked you are, the more chances of winning. Every person in that event was having so much fun, bursting out laughter and exchanging hugs here and there, parents cheering for their child, teachers debating about what game should be played next yet I  just stood there and watched them have fun from a corner. Instead of joining the crowd, I just took out a book and began to read. I let my imagination flow and take me to somewhere else. That’s the fun in reading books you know. You get to be part of something that doesn’t exist yet feels so real. The words just becomes your words.

               Life has always been like that for me, sad and dark. By the way, in case you are having trouble to understand my family tree, Lily was not really my mom. She wasn’t an aunt either nor a foster parent. She was just and old maid slash caretaker of our house who has been with us for years, maybe decades. When my parents died, I was adopted by my aunts who grew old waiting for their prince charming who never came. They waited all their life for the right person to come but they never did. Now explain to me the definition of soul mates or destiny or serendipity or whatever cheesy word you would like to call it. If they are real, why such thing happens? Back to the story, when I was eight, they had to leave me to the old caretaker of the house because they needed to go to America for the treatment of Aunt Estrella's lung cancer. Stage two. It’s not that really bad as the doctors would explain it trying to calm everyone down but she does need to undergo an operation to cure her. Unfortunately, three weeks after her sensitive operation, she did not made it. She died with a broken heart and broken lungs.

Naabot mo na ang dulo ng mga na-publish na parte.

⏰ Huling update: Jan 24, 2013 ⏰

Idagdag ang kuwentong ito sa iyong Library para ma-notify tungkol sa mga bagong parte!

The 8th WishTahanan ng mga kuwento. Tumuklas ngayon