Grape Juice (By the Border, #1) ✓

8

What I had was an illusion of a choice between letting the voice rule over me and driving it to defeat by one thing I knew how to formulate: noise. Repeated, pattern-less, unbearable noise.

Abala ako sa paglinis ng pader noong bumukas ang pinto ng kwarto ni Mama. She was prepared to leave, donned in formal clothes, shoes strapped, makeup flawlessly done, and face sour. Ang atensyon niya ay ninakaw ng pagkain galing Savory na hanggang ngayon ay hindi ko pa naibabalik sa mga container gaya ng inutos niya. Hindi ko dapat iiwan dahil alam kong mauuwi na naman ito sa away, pero pinili kong pairalin ang tigas ng ulo dahil hindi naman siya nakikinig sa akin, at mananalo lang ulit siya sa argumento namin dahil ipipilit niyang siya ang tama at ako ang mali.

"Hindi mo siya nakita?" Tanong ko nang makaupo na si Mama at inabutan ko siya ng plato at kubyertos. Tinaasan niya ako ng kilay.

"Sino?" Aniya habang nagsasandok ng kanin. "I'm not a decoder, Kid. Complete the damn statement."

I threw the rug I was holding on a nearby counter, channeling all the frustrations I could let out on the inanimate object. "Kung tumigil ka lang kasi sa paggamit ng phone mo nang ilang segundo, e 'di nakita mo sana 'yong kasama ko rito kanina."

"Bakit? Kaibigan mo ba siya?"

Hindi ako nakasagot kaagad. "No." Of course he wasn't. Hindi ko siya magiging kaibigan. Ayaw ko. That I knew, but the thought stayed like an itch I could never get rid of.

"Oh, e bakit kailangang makita ko pa siya kung gan'on?" Patuloy na kumakain si Mama noong nilingon ko siya. She continued eating like the topic at hand was none of her concern. Her daughter, a few months away from college, had no friends and an unbearable highschool life, so unbearable that she was formulating a plan to kill herself. "Hindi ko naman siya makikita kung hindi kayo magkaibigan. Wala akong pake kung may inuwi ka rito dahil hindi mo naman talaga ginagawa 'yon," dagdag niya pa.

"You had 17 years of being a mom and that's the only right thing you said about me," I muttered under my breath, but she heard it. Mabilis na umangat ang kaniyang ulo, at mula rito at kitang-kita ko ang pagkuyom ng mga kamay niya. She dropped her spoon and fork before raising a brow at me.

"Well, I apologize for not catering to your lavish lifestyle. Mahirap lang tayo, baka nakakalimutan mo," angal niya. Ngayon ko lang nakuha ang atensyon niya. "I raised you for 17 years and you've been nothing but miserable."

Gusto kong matawa at sagutin siya, na sabihing hindi niya talaga ako kilala kung ayon ang sa tingin niyang pinaparating ko, pero hindi ko kaya. I could only deflect and avoid her words like a plague. "At sino kayang may kasalanan no'n?" taas-kilay ko ring tanong.

Mom smirked. "Your dad, maybe."

"Stop."

"I just don't get it, Kid." Narinig ko siyang bumuntonghininga pero hindi ako sigurado, dahil pilit kong inaalis ang aking atensyon mula sa kaniya. Ito na naman kami. Away na naman. Matapos ay hindi ulit kami magpapansinan dahil walang handang humingi ng tawad. "Palagi kang ganiyan," utal niya. "Palagi kang miserable tuwing nakikita kita. Anong sunod? Gugutumin mo ang sarili mo? Ano, papatayin mo ang sarili mo?"

I closed my eyes, my fists clenching and unclenching, doing a poor job at calming me down. "Stop it..."

"If you're so hell-bent on making yourself suffer, then might as well stop eating, right?" It was too nonchalant, like throwing that statement out didn't feel heavy at all. Like her words didn't hurt me worse than Zeus's abusive stunts at school. "Baka makatipid pa tayo sa gan'on—"

"Bakit, Ma? Gusto niyo ba 'yon?"

Mukhang hindi inaasahan ni Mama ang sagot ko. When I looked up, she didn't appear laid back anymore. Discomfort washed over her features, and for some sick reason, it gave me satisfaction.