The 8th Wish

CHAPTER 1: The List

               Two years after, my other aunt followed her sister to heaven due to her age. She has Alzheimer’s back then. She cannot recall who I was or any other person every fifteen minutes. The only thing she remembers is this guy named “Charlie” whom she kept on calling every now and then. “Charlie, come here,” “Charlie where are you?” “Charlie… dear Charlie.”  Probably he was her first love or that sort of thing. You see, even though I don’t believe in happy ever afters,  I still believe that the heart remembers what the mind forgets and in the same way, the mind remembers what the heart forgets. An ironic passage that is close to me not because I have experienced it myself but because there’s something about it that triggers my imagination. On the day of her burial, my other relatives decided to let me stay with Lily since she grew up taking care of me and my parents which eventually led to her being unmarried because she was just so dedicated to us. A part of our wealth was given to her in exchange of her taking care of me. Also of course so she would still be able to sustain my schooling as well as our daily needs. Since then, I started calling her mom.

               So that is basically my story. Tragedy has been a part of me and that reminds me that life isn't fair, it has never been and it will never be. For sure, there are others that are claiming right now how beautiful life is or whatsoever they would like to explain. But trust me, life isn’t a fairytale full of gumdrop fairies flying through the sky sprinkling gold dust. It’s just not. I have experienced  it myself so believe me when I say that life is a creepy place to live in. That’s one reason I hated fairytales. They don’t exist. I hate how everyone believes in it even after so many failures and tragedies they have faced in life, how they can make it seem so realistic as if it is real after all. And I also hate those cheesy stories about a girl meeting a man and suddenly they fall in love with each other. I am sure it wouldn’t happen to me. Or would it?

               It was already mid-July and the rain has started pouring down on the streets of Manila. Philippines has been my home for seventeen years now. Its busy streets has always been the view from my bedroom’s window. Those early risers preparing for their days as they pass through this boulevard, I know some of them by name, most by their faces and suits but no one even recognizes me. I am this man who was always behind these crystal windows from an old brick house. I never had the chance to play outside, hangout, go to the mall or the park or even just a trip down the avenue. My life revolves on myself only. I don’t know if it is who I really am or just a plain choice. Everything for me is like a mystery waiting to be solved – but not in a Sherlock Holmes kind of way because if that is, it would be surely very awful.

               Anyway, the people here are very friendly and would treat you nicely but not everyone. There are some who would take advantage of your weakness and imperfections. It is not just happening here in our place but I think in almost every part of the world. I often get into fights and troubles at school because I was always bullied and I still don’t get why they do that. I know I am much shorter than the others, no muscles, definitely a loner and I look so easy to beat up but why bully someone? I don’t get it. I remember Seed – that’s his nickname because his brain is as small as a seed and he loves picking on smaller guys – trying to take my lunch that day. I was in a bad mood, which always happens to me by the way, and I don’t know why all of a sudden I threw my lunch at his face. It was pretty messy. The tomato sauce was all over his uniform and his eyes covered with pasta. I brought in some spaghetti that day and I think it was not a mere coincidence. He threw a punch in the air and hit me in the shoulder. I got so enraged that I took my back pack off and threw back a strong punch leaving him crying down on the floor begging for mercy. It was my first time to punch someone and I must admit that it did hurt. My hand was swollen red for a day. He was admitted to the hospital for a week due to a broken nose and I was in detention at the same time. It was just self-defense so I don’t know what is the problem with that. Some students at school started to hang out with me, most of them are losers too probably looking for protection, but most started to avoid me thinking I was some kind of troublemaker. In the end, I still chose to be all alone. I have learned to live life the hard way. After all everybody treats as some kind of an asshole. You see, I look at the world in a very negative way. In all aspects of it, I see nothing but the darkness that lurks on it. A lot of people tell me that the world is a great place to live in spite of all the bad things that surrounds us. But after all that I have been through, you cannot question why I am like this. No one can change me... no one.