Loving a Believer

Prologue (Book 2)

"Where is Fara?!"

My tears started to form in my eyes when I heard Mommy's angry voice outside my bedroom. I trembled in so much fear and nervousness.

"Sara, calm down! It was not Fara's fault!" I heard Daddy reply.

"Calm down?! Can't you see? That kid is a pest!"

"How can you say that? She is your daughter, for Pete's sake!"

"I don't care! M-my mom died b-because of her!" Mommy said and started to weep. "So let me deal with that brat."

My teary eyes turned to the doorknob when I heard its turning sound. Thankfully, it was locked so she couldn't open it. I took slow steps backward. My heart was pumping so hard and I didn't know what to do as she started to knock on the door so hard.

"Sara! Stop it! You're scaring the kid!"

"No! Don't stop me!"

I began to sob in panic. I fell onto the ground when I accidentally stumble upon my legos behind me. I sat on some of them and my butt hurt a bit. I turned my head to my bed, my eyes widening as I crawled underneath to hide. I saw my teddy bear near where I was so I reached out for it and hugged it tightly as I cried.

My body shook in fear, still listening to my mom shouting at the door.

"You, little devil, come out there!"

I curled on the floor and controlled my cries with a hand on my mouth. I am afraid, Grandma...

"Honey, just take a rest. You're drunk. Please? Let's go to bed," Daddy tried to calm her down.

I heard Mommy cry harder and she stopped hitting the door.

A moment later, my surroundings became quiet. All I could hear was my sobs.

***

I had my letter for Santa last Christmas while I was sitting on the bed.

Dear Santa,

I don't want any toys again because I have lots of them in my playroom. I have one wish. I don't know if you can do it but I wish Jesus is real. Please, make him exist.

Love lots, Mr. Santa!

I took it with me everywhere I go, hoping that Santa would finally grant it. Now, I was staring at it while crying silently.

I looked into the window and saw the stars above the sky. "Is Jesus real now, Santa?" I muttered between my sobs. "C-can you tell him to come to my room and make me happy? I am so sad right now. Mommy is mad at me. Please?"

I released the paper on the bed and then I opened the window, hoping that Jesus would enter my room through the window.

"BULAGA!"

I freaked out when Kirby suddenly appeared at the window. He began to laugh hysterically.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in here?" I asked in a high-pitched voice, still trembling from the shock he gave me. "Look, it's already evening, Kirby. Your mom might be looking for you."

He controlled his laughter and sat on the windowsill of my room. "She will go home late tonight. Traffic daw kasi," he explained, still had that remaining giggles from what happened. "Nagpahatid ako kay Tito Michael dito. He is outside. I told him that I will just visit you. Babalik na kasi kami sa Las Vegas bukas."

I just heaved a sigh. "I see."

"Hey, did you cry? What's the matter?" he asked when he noticed my puffy eyes. He looked worried as he tried to look at my face.

"I'm just sad... Grandma died," I said in a downcast voice.

"What? Don't worry, your grandma is in heaven now," he comforted me.

He jumped into my room and went to my bed. He saw the paper there, so he grabbed it.

"What's this?" he said while reading it. "A letter for Santa?" His brows furrowed. "Come on, Fara! Santa is not real! Why are you writing to him?" he told me.

"Really?" I said with brows furrowed. I was confused now. "Kuya Tyler told me that he visits us every Christmas while everyone is sleeping. He gave me a Christmas sock so I put my letter inside of it and then I hung this on my window last Christmas. I thought Santa has read my letter."

He gave me a weird look. "Seriously? You are asking him to make Jesus real?"

"Yeah."

"Jesus is real."

I pouted my lips as I looked at the ground. "Then why is he not coming here? I told Santa to make Jesus come here in my room."

"That's not how it is, Fara. We can't see Jesus, but He sees us," he explained.

"Hmm... Is that so?" I said, still confused.

He nodded.

"So, what now? Can I ask Jesus anything now?" I asked.

"Yes, just pray to Him."

"How?"

"Just close your eyes and talk to Him."

"Okay. Can you help me? I'm shy," I requested and let out a shy chuckle.

"No problem."

"I don't know how to pray so just pray for me. Tell him about me. And tell him that I want my Mommy to love me. Can he do it?"

"Okay. I'll tell it to Him."

I smiled and happily said, "Thank you!"

***

There were so many flowers at Grandma's funeral service, and they smelled so bad. I didn't like them.

After they had buried Grandma, we and the guests returned to Grandma's house. Mayroong gaganaping salo-salo roon.

While I was eating my food at the table in the backyard, I heard a piano playing inside the house. The piece was Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. We didn't have a piano, but maybe Mommy hired a pianist who would play piano pieces for her because she loved music so much. On every occasion we have, she always wanted to hear classical music played on the piano.

I decided to go inside the house afterward, wanting to take a rest in my room. Before I was about to reach my room, my eyes caught the pianist sitting in the midst of the living room, playing the piano calmly.

He was a boy. And he was familiar to me, though I couldn't remember what his name was. Sometimes, I would see that face when we had special occasions. Maybe he was the son of one of Daddy's friends.

I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I was so amazed by how delicate he looked while playing the keys. He looked so talented and good at playing this piece. I just wished I could play like that.

I didn't expect when he looked in my direction where our eyes met. I quickly looked away and ran to my bedroom.