Exemplum (UNDER REVISION)

knock knock II

⚠ tw // blood, accident

***

"No, but I swear.. I will always remember you,"

"'Di nga? O, sige. Take two, ha."

"Okay, shoot."

"Knock knock?"

Those were the last ones that Thirdy could remember. When he woke up, he forgot things. He forgot that he has a fiancè, he forgot how he used to love basketball, and mostly, he forgot about Bea.

"Sa'n kayo pupunta, ma?" Thirdy asked as he saw Bong and Mozzy leaving. His parents turned their gazes on him with wide eyes. It was unusual for Thirdy to wake up at 6 in the morning. He would often wake up at ten and eat brunch.

"Ah.. Sa tabi lang, 'nak." Mozzy answered.

"You need anything?" His father asked. He shook his head to let them go, still confused and not buying his parents' excuses.

He caught them leaving early in the morning for days. Until one day, his parents came home with a newborn baby.

"Sino 'yan, ma?" Thirdy asked, pertaining to the child. His parents didn't know what to answer.

"A child of a friend, anak. Hindi raw kasi kayang.. alagaan," Mozzy stuttered. Thirdy didn't want kids around the house. He never liked the child. It would always cry in the middle of the night.

"Ma, ano ba 'yan? Gutom yata. Ang ingay, hindi ako makatulog." He scratched his head out of frustration. 

He hated it. He didn't like children. He had no choice but to live with the baby. It went on for some time. Until he was left alone with the child.

"Are you hungry?" He asked the child. It didn't answer, of course. He scratched his head. He watched the child's first crawl and walk. He was proud of it, for unknown reasons.

"Damn," he wiped his tears. He didn't know he was crying while watching the child discover things. He was confused.

"Come," he said. The child tried to reach for the hem of his t-shirt. He chuckled.

"Do you want me to carry you?" He asked. The child blabbered random words.

"Carry? Ca-rry?" He asked again, hoping it would talk.

"Dada," he stiffened.

"Wha.. What?" He asked again, making sure he heard the child right.

"Dada," he smiled widely before carrying the child. Dada. She called me dada.

From then on, he considered himself as the child's father. He would take care of her, feed her and give her a bath. He would often take the child to Maddie during weekends.

"What's her first word, bro?" Zolo asked when Maddie took the child to the bathroom for a bath.

"Dada," he smiled as he remember how the child called him Dada. Zolo smiled. A sad one.

He was happy that somehow, Thirdy loved the child. He was happy that the child had a father. But he was afraid that upon growing up, the child would ask about her mother. He was afraid that the child might grow up without her biological mother, knowing that there's no assurance that her mother would come back.