WHERE THERE'S SMOKE, THERE'S FIRE
It's two minutes until midnight. The pitter-pattering of raindrops and the blare of police sirens several streets away kept me awake until this late hour. Even though I was exhausted to the point of fainting at any moment, my eyes wouldn't close and my ears wouldn't stop ringing.
I forced myself to stand up from my bed, feeling my bones pop a few times. My muscles feel sore, and I almost fell to my feet when I stood up from the bed. I supported myself by leaning against the wall and slowly trudged towards the bathroom, taking breaths every time I accidentally rubbed the wound on my hand against the cold surface of the pristine white walls.
The contact between my hands and the wall evoked images to flash inside my head. Images of past events related to the wall appeared in my mind and then quickly blurred out and disappeared.
"Shit!" I cursed under my breath as my head started throbbing and my knees weakened again. This ability never stopped turning my life worse than it already is. Suppressing it and making sure it wasn't going to activate again, I entered the bathroom.
Looking at the bruised and weak reflection, I frowned in defeat and almost cried out again. It's been days, and my bruises are taking their time to heal. I have never gone out of my apartment these days in fear of my neighbors seeing my jokes. I didn't dare to see my parents, and I'm locking myself in this house until my face doesn't look like a red balloon anymore.
To give some context to this whole farce, I got these wounds and bruises after fighting with another woman named Lily. She was my high school rival, my former immediate superior in a clothing store I worked for, and the one whom my ex cheated with. I didn't know about my ex's betrayal until I accidentally saw visions of his infidelity while taking his phone that had fallen on the floor. I was in so much shock that I couldn't control my rage, and everything went downhill at that moment.
What's funny though was the fact that my ex was mad because I used my ability on him, instead of him feeling guilty about playing with my feelings. I knew right there that he didn't care whether I was hurt or was affected by what he had done, so I lost control of my emotions and got into a fight with him and Lily, that fake-ass b*tch.
"Stop fighting in front of the store, you motherfckers! You're ruining the sales!"
In the end, it was the store manager who broke us apart. Lily and my ex were sent to the hospital to get stitches, while I was taken to the police station with minimal wounds. I had to stay in the police station for 24 hours before I was released. Before I left, I even had to write a fucking repentance letter.
"See? I told you! I told you he's a scumbag, and you didn't listen. Tsk. Now that you're in the spotlight of Sta. Rosa again, you're becoming similar to a celebrity," said my best friend, who came to pick me up from the police station. I said nothing. Seeing my silence, I remembered quite clearly what she said before she left me on my porch.
"The next time you find a boyfriend, use your ability. That way you would know who's to bang and who's to reject."
If life is full of jokes, then my life is the circus itself. That's the most appropriate description I can think of when I go through my life in detail. In short, my life sucks. So technically, that means I suck too. It's not because I want to be a failure, but sigh, life does like to be a little b*tch sometimes.
I, Felicity Guanzon, am the eldest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Guanzon. I have two younger siblings, a man, and a woman. I grew up in a small town on the outskirts of S city called Sta. Rosa in Country M. Life here was never as luxurious as those in bigger towns in the city. There was a narrow space between houses, and the side of the road was always packed with kids playing ball and messing around. Elderly women gossip all day, while elderly men relive their younger years to compete with other elderly men. Life here is simple and can be very boring. However, no matter how simple this place may appear, it has a fair share of stories to be told in history.
When I was seven years old, I stabbed a classmate's hand because I was pissed off by his bullying at the local elementary school. It was mid-summer, and I wasn't particularly in a good mood due to the build-up of greenhouse gases, which was turning me into a BBQ. That bully has been my bully since 1st grade. That day, he kept on calling me a pipsqueak and a twerp, which the younger me didn't appreciate. I didn't know how I did it but I saw his mother with another man, even though I have not even met his parents yet. I told my bully that her mother was cheating, but I didn't expect him to get super angry. He tends to get violent, so I panicked when I saw him raising his hand toward me while holding a stone. Feeling scared, I stabbed his hand in self-defense. It was also the time I finally knew about my ability's existence.
I remember my bully's mom looking at me like I was a monster, and my parents' worried yet puzzled eyes. Those days were the most confusing days of my life.
I have grown used to living a life pretending I am normal, but sometimes life has to ruin it and make me remember I wasn't, and it's frustrating. This week's chaotic events are an example. After the fight, I became jobless. My savings were running out, and I have bills waiting for me.
Waking up the next day, I was bombarded with notifications when I turned my phone on. I was confused since I have never received this many notifications in my daily life. Scrolling at the messages, I opened the one that came from my Mama.
The message said: Call me when you wake up.
Frowning, I immediately dialed my Mama's number. I was worried that something happened to her or Papa. Combing my long curls back, I walked down to my kitchen to prepare my morning coffee and bread. The phone continued to ring and was finally picked up after a few beats.
"Ma?"
"Felly? Are you okay? Are you in your apartment?"
I immediately noticed the worry and concern in her voice, making me wonder if anything happened. On the other hand, if there's something over there, I'm sure Mama wouldn't be calm like this. My heart returned to my chest and I continued preparing my coffee.
"I'm fine," stirring the steaming coffee with my free hand, I asked to make sure. "Is everything okay with you there?"
"By your reactions, you haven't seen the news, have you?"
The tone of her voice doesn't sound like she's asking, but rather stating a fact instead.
"What news?" Taking a sip of my coffee, I turned towards the fridge in search of the remaining eggs I could cook.
Mama took several seconds before responding as if hesitating whether to talk or let me find it by myself. Instantly, I was apprehensive. I know that every time Mama does this, serious shit is going on. My stomach cramped, something is telling me that what she is about to say is serious. My guts never lies to me, neither my Mama. Unconsciously holding my breath, I heard my Mama say:
"...Jerry is dead, and Lily is missing. You're now a person of interest with Jerry's murder."
I felt my heart dropping to my stomach. Goosebumps appeared and I shivered in shock and fear.
