Behind Every Pages

Chapter Twelve:

Lestari

"Kay Luther po ba 'yan?" tanong ko nang maabutan ang isang maid na paakyat sana ng hagdan na may dalang tray ng pagkain. Tumango ito, "Ako na po."

I knocked on Luther's door, but there was no answer. I tried to open it, but it was already unlocked, so I said, "I'm coming in."

I found him lying in bed, scrolling through his phone. Luther hadn't left his room for days, so if he wasn't brought food, he wouldn't eat. Sometimes, I volunteered to bring him his meals. I was still surprised when he wouldn't respond when I tended to him. He just let me take care of him, which made me happy.

"Kain na boss," Nakangiti kong sabi nang ilapag ko ang pagkain niya sa lamesa. Bumaling siya sa akin at ngumisi. Pinatay niya ang phone niya bago bumangon at lumapit sa akin sa study table niya.

"Thanks," I was surprised when he said that. It felt like something inside me was happy because my brother was finally being nice to me. I just nodded and let him eat.

"How are you?" I asked. He thought for a moment before shrugging.

"I don't know, probably okay," he said. I just nodded and accepted his answer. Hindi namin napag-usapan ang dahilan kung bakit siya napagalitan ni Dad. Mukhang ayaw niyang pag-usapan iyon. He still had a bruise on his cheek from when Dad punched him. Speaking of him...

Umuuwi ito lagi na mainit ang ulo. I always heard him yelling from his office. I asked Kuya Alistair if he knew anything, but he said no. It must be about business. Gustohin ko mang tumulong pero kapag nakikita niya ako rito sa bahay ay sinisigawan niya lang ako at tinataboy. I was terrified when he once grabbed my cheek tightly and said it was all my fault. Kuya Alistair immediately came and stopped him. I just cried to Luther and Kuya Alistair because of the fear I felt from Dad's hand. I couldn't believe he could hurt me and my brother. Nasasaktan ako oo, pero wala naman akong magagawa.

I couldn't even make time to read anymore because I was focusing more on Luther. I was scared when one day I caught him hurting himself in the bathroom while crying. I immediately hugged him and cried with him. I knew he regretted what he did, but it wasn't right for him to do it to himself. I tried to distract him, I talked to him and told him stories about the books I read. He would smile, sometimes he would laugh when he saw me get annoyed with a character. I also invited him to teach me how to paint, that's when he would become talkative because he had so much to teach me. I did everything so he wouldn't think about hurting himself again, I did everything as his older sister. I protected him when he was hurt.

That's how things were at home for days. I wouldn't let Luther leave his room, especially when our father is around. It had been days since I last talked to Ezra. I didn't know why I couldn't talk to him. I felt like I would just drag him into all my problems. I felt too heavy-hearted, so I didn't want to burden him with it. Miss ko na siya, miss ko nang makausap siya, pero hindi pa puwede. I didn't have the strength. I knew that once I talked to him, I would feel better, but I felt like it wasn't the right time for that. It felt wrong to be happy while my brother and I were hurting. I wanted to focus my attention on my brother because I knew he needed me.

I still kept track of Ezra's life because he continued to message me. He would tell me when he was doing something, he would tell me when he had something to do, he would tell me when he finished something. It hurt because he never failed to tell me how he was waiting for me to talk to him again. Because of that, it was clear to me that it wasn't just the beautiful books that I liked and loved about him, but him himself, ang manunulat na kaibig-ibig naman talaga. Parang hindi ko na kaya pang itanggi na gusto ko siya.

Nakakapagod din naman ang ginagawa ko ngayon, at gusto ko na lang magpahinga sa kaniya. Ang saya-saya ko kasi kapag kausap siya.

In the two years I've been supporting him, I never stopped telling him how much his stories made me happy, how they shaped who I am. But I never thought I would be more happy by the author of those stories himself. I felt like it was worth waiting for him for two years just to get noticed. Hindi ko man alam ang nasaisip ni Ezra ngayon, kung gusto ba niya ako, or kung masaya lang siyang kausap ako, pero okay lang ako sa kahit ano, ang mapansin pa lang ng author na iniidolo ko ay sapat na.

Katatapos ko lang maligo at nagsusuklay na ako ng buhok sa harap ng salamin ko nang may kumatok. Nagulat ako nang pumasok doon si Kuya Alistar na may dalang libro at bulaklak. Iyon ang librong huling binabasa ko. Sobra ang saya ko dahil sa effort niya. Hindi ko nabanggit sa kaniya na book signing ni Ezra ngayon pero mukhang inalam niya.

"Aw, thankyou always, Kuya. Nag punta ka ba doon? Paano mo nalaman?" tinanggap ko ang libro at ang kulay pink na rosas na inabot niya, agad ko itong inamoy at napangiti. Ang bango.

"Oo, actually, si Luther ang nagsabi sa akin dahil nabanggit mo raw sa kaniya kahapon." I was surprised by what he said and immediately remembered if I really told that to Luther. If that's the case, my heart softened because of that, Luther really has a soft side too.

"Kayo talaga, thank you, Kuya," I hugged him. I was trying not to cry because I was so happy. I missed Ezra so much.

"Sa kaniya galing 'yan. Saka ito pa pala," nagulat ako sa sinabi niya, may inilabas itong gintong pocket watch.

"P-po? Binigay niya ito pareho?" I asked in disbelief. He nodded, so my tears finally fell. How could he still be so kind to me when I hadn't talked to him for days.

"Ang bait ng isang iyon ano? Hindi na ako magtataka kung magugustuhan mo siya." nagulat ako sa sinabi niya.

"P-po?"

Umiling siya. "Napaka buti ng puso ng binatang iyon, nag-aalala siya sa'yo, Anak."

Nagpaalam si Kuya Alistair sa akin na lalabas na siya. I couldn't stop crying while sitting on the bed, holding the rose and the pocket watch he gave me.

Nag-aalala siya sa akin, kahit pa ilang araw akong walang paramdam sa kaniya.

When I opened the book to smell it, a piece of paper fell from it. I picked it up from the floor and unfolded it. If I thought I was done crying, I'm wrong.

Dearest Lesty,

This might seem strange, a letter tucked inside a book, but I wanted to find a way to reach you, even if it's just a whisper on the wind.

Your support for my work means the world to me. I see the struggles you face, the limitations you endure, and it breaks my heart.

I know a little about what it's like to feel trapped, to be confined by circumstances beyond your control. I also know a woman who yearned for freedom, for a voice, for a chance to be heard.

She, too, was silenced by those who should have been her protectors. And even though time has passed, she still struggles to find her own way out. It's a difficult situation, and I know it's something you understand. But even in the face of those challenges, she continues to find strength in her own heart, and I believe you can too.

Don't let the world tell you who you are or what you can be. Your story is yours to write, your voice is yours to claim. Keep reading, keep dreaming, keep writing your own story, even if it's just in your heart.

And know this: You are not alone. We are all fighting our own battles, and even in the darkest of times, there is always hope.

I'm always here,

Ezonme