Unfinished Tale (✔️)

Kabanata 1

Cleotha

Minsan napapatanong ako... ano ba talaga ang mangyayari pagkatapos pumapanaw ang isang tao? Do they go to heaven or hell? I was born Catholic, but I question this. I want to shrug it off because it seems like I'm commiting a mortal sin but it just lingers. Iniiwasan man pero hindi nawawala. Iniisip ko na lang na normal lang mag-tanong dahil tao lang naman ako.

Despite my beliefs as a Catholic, I still believe that this world is vast and doesn't just revolve around the beliefs of my religion or any religion in this world. There's something more deep, or a lot of things that aren't yet known by the most of us. Or maybe already known, but isn't being believed.

I heaved a sigh. I'm here again, questioning about it. Paniguradong pagagalitan ako ng mga magulang ko kapag narinig nila ito mula sa 'kin. They're both religious, as in very religious. Kapag namamatay ang isang taong hindi pa handa, they would say, it's God's plan. Napapasalubong na lang ang mga kilay ko. It's kind of insensitive to the bereaved family. Kapag may marahas na bagyo ring dumarating, sasabihin din nilang may rason ang Diyos.

Stop it, Cleotha. I think you're commiting a sin again.

Ang hirap maging tao, to be honest.

Nagmamadali akong magbihis para sa eskwela, pero may panahon pa rin akong isipin ito. I woke up late again because of a vague dream, at ala una na rin akong natulog dahil pinagpatuloy ko ang nobelang nasimulan. Despite being busy with my schoolwork, I still spend time doing my hobby because it seems like it's forbidden not to write.

"Cleotha! Bakit palaging ang tagal-tagal mo?! Kung nakalublob ka pa rin d'yan sa kama mo, you're giving us a reason to leave you here!" I heard my mother shout.

Napabuntong-hininga ako't napakuyom sa aking kamao. This is what I hate whenever I wake up. Her screams. Their screams. Ang mga sigaw nilang para bang bingi ang kanilang kinakausap. Despite of what I feel again, dali-dali kong sinuot ang school bag at binuksan ang pintuan. Doon, nakita kong umuusok na ang ilong nito sa galit sa akin at ang mga mata'y pinapaulanan ako ng mga palaso.

I looked at her with my emotionless eyes before uttering, "I'm sorry, Mom." Taliwas iyon sa gustong sabihin ng puso ko. Gusto kong sumagot sa totoo lang dahil ilang taon na akong nagtitiis sa kaniya, pero paano ko ba 'yon magagawa? Talking back means I don't respect her even if I'm just explaining myself. Older generation really sucks.

Marahas nitong hinawakan ang braso ko na para bang may kinikimkim talaga siyang galit sa 'kin. I don't really understand her as well as my Dad. Bata pa lang ako, hindi ko nararamdaman ang pagmamahal nila sa akin. They support me in terms of financial matter, but when it comes to emotional matter, they don't.

"Mom, I'm hurting. I can walk. Why do you need to hold my hand this tight while walking?" irita kong puna sa ginagawa niya. Hindi ko na naitago pa ang nararamdaman.

She halted from walking, the reason why my feet also came to a halt. Ginawaran niya ako ng matalim na tingin.

"And you're talking back now? It's for you to be disciplined, Cleotha. Palagi mo na lang pinapasakit ang ulo namin ng Dad mo. You deserve this!" Hindi siya nakinig at mas lalo pang hinigpitan ang hawak sa aking braso nang magpatuloy kami sa paglalakad.

Pinigilan ko na lang ang sariling sagutin siya. Napupuno na ako, pero palagi kong pinipigilan. I just bit my bottom lip and let my eyes that is filled with wrath wander on the floor. Another question is still lingering in my mind. Why do they treat me this way?