Red Christmas

The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary; men alone are quite capable of every wickedness. –Joseph Conrad

Blood tells us what we are and who we are. It tells our origin and our identity.

"Do you know the story of two wolves?" he asked as he intently looks at me.

"I don't know," I answered reluctantly. "I have heard it somewhere but it's not clear as I remember."

"It was my friend who told me about the two wolves' story. It is a story of grandfather who told his grandson about the two wolves inside his body. The first wolf is good and does no harm. It lives in harmony. It does not take offence and only fight when it is the right to do. The other wolf is full of anger. He fights everyone and cannot think clearly because his anger and hate are so great. He told his grandson that sometimes it is hard to live with two wolves inside him because both of the wolves try to dominate his spirit. Then the grandson asked if which wolf will win. For you, which wolf will win?" he asked me.

"The good one because good always prevail," I answered.

He laughed at me, a laugh with amusement. But in a split of second his expression changed into cold and serious one. "You're naïve, Miss Lyn that's why I have fun talking to you."

"Am I wrong?"

"Well, I think, you view life positively that's why you have answered that way. However, the wolf which will win is the one you feed."

"Ah..." I nodded as I realize its meaning.

He continued. "It's like, everyone has two different sides; it's up to them which side they want to leave behind."

He is Henry Macalidong, 27, the only survivor of the Christmas massacre which took the life of his mother and his older brother. It was a bloody massacre that happened which overtook the media and the internet by storm because of how his family was killed. Police said that it was not a work of a human but a monster. The crime scene looked like a blood bath. And the most heartbreaking about it is that he lost his family to his only friend.

He sustained stabbed wounds on his stomach and other parts of his body but luckily they did not pierce his internal organs. But not all wounds are visible. Those wounds that cannot be seen by the naked eyes are more painful and took time to heal. Sometimes, they did not heal at all.

At first, he can't remember anything and can't speak because of trauma but with the help of the resident psychologist of the hospital, eventually after a week, he told the police what happened.

"Do you have friends, Miss Lyn?" His eyes looked serious as he talked to me as I sit beside the hospital bed where he lies.

"I have."

"What does real friend means to you?"

"Hmmm... I think... for me, a real friend is the one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out."

"Well, that's true. Mencius said that friendship is one in mind in two bodies. But I believe the opposite."

"Because of what happened?"

He paused for a moment. "Let me tell you an interesting story. This is about my friend Sonny. I first met him twenty years ago."

"The suspect?" I asked.

He looked at me and then nodded afterwards. "He was always there especially to those times when I needed him the most. I met him outside our house after my mother and brother left us. Since then we became friends. He was with me when my father passed away. He was with me when my girlfriend broke up with me. He was with me every time my pets died. I thought that the reason he called me before the incident is because he wanted to spend the Christmas with my family. Little did I know that he will also be there when the rest of my family died...not as a friend but as a murderer. I didn't even know that Sonny hated my brother. And here I am...I have to celebrate the next Christmas alone... again."