Cloudburst's Springtime

Prologue

As a child, we ought to be contented with what we have. Our duty was simply to have fun playing and to enjoy studying. However, for someone who was born in the lower middle class, not everything is full of rainbows and unicorns.

I learned to be independent at the age of five. Instead of playing outside with other kids my age after school, I had to take care of my younger sister, prepare and wash the dishes, clean our house, and sometimes help managing our computer shop when in need. At eleven, my youngest brother was born, I had two siblings to take care of.

As brutal as it may sound, I was technically held in a cage. Like a bird who lost their will to fly high, I didn't have the chance to dream big. I was so used to following what my parents told me to that I became a very obedient child who eventually lost her identity.

I waited for years until I could turn thirteen, because I thought that it would open an opportunity for me. The thought that I would officially be a teenager excited my soul.

I clapped along with the restaurant staffs as they formed a semi-circle infront of our table while singing a joyful birthday song. After singing, the lady who was holding the cake walked forward and stopped near my side.

"Oh, make a wish na!" My mother cheerfully said as she lit the candle. I smiled at her before I closed my eyes and made my long time wish.

I wanted to be free.

I blew the candle afterwards and a round of applause followed.

"Happy birthday, ate Rem!" They shouted as they pulled the confetti poppers.

I looked around and saw my whole family smiling and slightly-teary eyed. I couldn't tell if it's genuine or it's because of the event. Nevertheless, I hoped that I would never wake up if it was a dream.

"Kuhaan ko po kayo ng picture, Ma'am," the photographer said. He then instructed us about our positions and poses to ensure a good photo. "Ang ganda po ng kinalabasan, ang saya-saya niyo rito, oh! Ang cute po ng pamilya niyo."

Sana nga kuya, ganyan palagi.

Apparently everything has an end, it included my birthday. Reality had hit me again. I woke up the next day to the argument of my parents. I immediately stood up and went to find my younger siblings, at times like these their safety are my priority.

I found my sister watching television at the living room, I gave her my phone and convinced her to move to our bedroom instead. Thankfully, she was still in a good mood and obeyed what I said. Then I found my brother crawling towards the kitchen, I panicked when I saw him almost near our shouting parents. Our father was holding up a glass cup aiming at our mom — who was inches away from my brother.

Luckily, I got in time to block the cup. I sighed in relief when I saw that my brother was unscratched. I felt a sting on my back because of the impact of the broken glass, but I shrugged it off and brought my brother in our room.

Their quarrel halted, our parents were silent ever since and so are we. I didn't know how I did it, yet I somehow managed to treat my wounds with a mirror and a little belief in myself. I swore to be strong and never cry even in tough situations such as this.

I'm now thirteen. I'm a teenager. I can't be weak, I'm the only one they're counting on.