Anchored Fault Lines

Chapter 5

"We've been letting her do that for the past five sets in the last hour! Sabihin mo sa amin, Pavico, kung kaya mo pa o hindi na!"

Alam ko namang nakakaperwisyo na rin ako sa mga kasama ko sa cheerleading dahil sa patuloy kong paghingi ng break kanina pa. Hindi ko alam kung anong nangyari sa akin at ngayon pa talaga nagkaganito ang katawan ko. Maayos naman ang naging tulog ko kagabi dahil nga sa inaasahang ensayo ngayong araw.

But my body is declining.

And even after all the pain I was enduring, I insisted on another round, trying to win my confidence and dignity back and proving to them that not even the Olympics can take a toll on my body's strength capacity.

I was holding my breath midair, like holding onto an unspoken promise of victory, unsure if it will ever come to me.

Hands in fists while nodding to the beat, my eyes then lingered below before I lifted a foot, and a pair of eyes scanned my existence. The familiar set of brown eyes and knitted brows welcomed my vision, enough to catch me off guard and for a while I lost my balance.

"Pavico!"

"Yes, coach!" Agad kong bawi ng lakas nang muntik akong mawalan ng balanse sa ere.

Davino was in a distance, arms crossed over his chest while wearing his usual expression of displeasure. He was wearing his soccer jersey and a ball was pressed on his side with his forearm.

I stared back at him in a denied defeat, silent and determined to continue persistently as my eyes fluttered in exhaustion, almost about to admit to myself that at this exact moment I needed help. And of all people, it must come from him, like a feeling of acceptance and understanding—from him, who used to scream my name in disagreement for all the things I'm putting myself through, and who used to snitch on me to my parents for all the scheming I've been doing.

Then, air huffed from my lips, quivering as the lifter holding my ankle released me through thin air. Soon I was spinning beyond my thoughts, rushing in my head like gunfire.

Flashbacks hit. Remembering when he went against me countless times resulting in an argument and my attempt to validate myself in each ticking dispute. His voice roared against the walls, like a tiger in his den, and our living room is his domain at the moment, upholding the authority he has on me right now.

"What were you thinking?!"

Napapikit ako sa lakas ng boses niyang may diin ang bawat bigkas.

"Ikapapahamak mo ang gusto mong mangyari!" His voice thundered more, making the next set of words coming from him unregistered, and I was almost deaf. "You get sick easily, Lauricia, what the fuck are you doing?!"

"I needed that to get a scholarship!"

"That's not what you need right now!" He clapped back almost in an instant. "Halos malunod ka na sa pera ng mga magulang mo—scholarship?! Talaga lang ha!"

"Davino you don't understand. My parents think I'm useless!" Like a sheep waiting for a wolf to prey on it, reserved and defeated, curling in acceptance of its fate.

But I know I am more than that and I am doing everything to make them realize what else is there to discover about me—what else I could offer under the family name. That even if exhaustion appears to be an evidence of what I'm becoming, here I am still hoping to be seen and appreciated in exchange.

"Kaya ko ginagawa 'to para makita nilang marami akong kayang gawin. Para makita nila ako! I hate being invisible, Davino, do you even understand that?!"

"Of course, I do!" He growled in anger. His voice came crumbling together, overlapping with his heavy breaths. Then he uttered, almost veiled in silence, "Kung alam mo lang, Lauricia..."