Acrimonious Heart: The Last Bullet 🔞

Acrimonious Heart: 1

15 years ago, my dreams were shattered. My heart was killed, and my bottle of dedication got emptied. I hated destiny. I hated life. I hated living. I hated everyone, including the surname of the most privileged family of the whole country.

October 16, 2008—the day my parents got killed.

"Tita. Malapit na po ba sina mama raw?" I innocently asked with my eyebrows furrowed. I need my mommy. I need to see my daddy. This is my first time I get to see their faces! Boses lang kasi nila ang naririnig ko, but not enough to fill the gap between my heart and theirs. This day is finally the day!

"Yes." lumuhod si tita para maabot ko ang tingin niya, hinawakan niya rin ang dalawang braso ko.

"Malapit na sina mommy mo, baby. Wait ka lang nang onti ha. I-tetext ko muna sila." she comforted, but I knew something was wrong when her eyes were brimming with tears bago siya tumayo't inasikaso ang biglang tawag sa telepono niya. I never get to check up on her dahil dumeretso na si Tita sa kuwarto niya. But out of curiosity, I sneaked through the small hole of her door—silently overhearing her conversation sa telephone.

"Okay na ba si Iza? Si Wally? Diyos ko, matagal nang nangungulila anak nila, buong buhay na silang inantay—tapos ganiyan pa ang mangyayari? Ano... ano ba kasing— ano? Mga Parriño?" I saw how she stomped her feet, narinig ko rin ang mariin niyang padyak dahilan para matakot ako nang bahagya at mailayo ko nang onti ang mata ko sa peephole.  Pero pinagpatuloy ko pa rin dahil ilang sandali pa ang nakalipas, bumalik din siya sa dating anyo niya, pero nakaharap na ngayon sa pinto, naka-dekuwatro. But... something has also changed—her eyes. It was her eyes filled with brimming tears again. Nag-uumapaw.

"H-Hindi... hindi na n-nila... kinaya?" then, hindi ko na namalayan na pinatay niya na ang telepono and constantly bawled her eyes out with tears. I didn't understand what was happening. Hindi ko naiintindihan bakit umiiyak si Tita.

Because back then, I was clueless. I was still young. And even if that day already made our parents succumbed to devil, I was still hoping they could see me at night. Tinatanong ko, kinukulit ko si Tita hanggang gabi kung nasaan na sina Mommy, and her replies were always "Wait, baby. Paparating na sila." which I hoped. Hanggang sa makatulog na ako, at nagising akong nagbibihis si Tita na parang may paglalamayan and never even informed me na it was my parents' funerals which she'd go to. Basta't sinama niya na lang ako at pagpunta ko sa burol, hindi ko rin kilala kung sino tong mag-asawang 'to basta ang alam ko lang, magka-apelyido kami. I was that clueless when I was eight years old. Na imbis na umiyak ako sa burol, tinanong ko pa rin si Tita kung asan na sina mommy. Kung pagbalik ba namin ng bahay sa Tarlac ay nandoon na sila, preparing for our dinner.

But I was wrong. I was so wrong. And I felt very disappointed. Because fifteen years after, even after my Tita's death, and after knowing what had happened—I'm still craving my parent's justice. Their rightful justice, and my vengeance for making a permanent scar on me. For... for making a permanent hindrance from seeing my parents for the very first time.

Iba maghiganti ang mga ulila. Iba mangagat ang mga nangugulila. Dahil kung si Satanas, may kapangyarihan sa mga apoy—ako, may kapangyarihan ako sa hustisya. At gagawin ko ang lahat para masira ang mga Parriño.

Ika-16 ng Oktubre taong 2023, alas siyete ng umaga—pumunta agad ako sa sementeryo para salubungin ang mga magulang ko.