Living as Palacios (Shadows of the Past) BOOK 2

Chapter 22

Chapter 22- I am a Palacios

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He was a curious boy, his wide eyes often filled with questions as he looked up at him, the only father he had ever known. With innocence radiating from his small frame, he would frequently ask...

"Dad? Ano po itsura ni Mama? Is she pretty? Matangkad ba siya? Mataba? Mapayat?"

"Dad? Nasaan ba ang Mama ko? Do you have a photo of her?"

"Dad, do you think she'll come to see me?"

"Dad, ayaw ba sa akin ni Mama?"

But each questions was met with his thunderous voice, echoing in their small, dimly lit hidden room.

"Forget about her, son! She's gone for a reason!" his piercing tone left the young boy feeling confused and alone, a young heart trying to piece together fragments of a family that felt forever out of reach.

As time went on, the weight of unanswered questions began to harden into a silence that filled him, and the young pity boy learned to bury his curiosity under layers of hurt.

As he grew into his teenage years, the innocence of his childhood faded, replaced by a simmering resentment. In a world where power often resembled control, he learned how to hold a gun—its cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of a mother's embrace he craved.

He would spent countless hours training, his hands becoming familiar with the weapon as if it were an extension of himself. Each time he pulled the trigger during practice, feelings of anger and betrayal surged within him, particularly directed at the woman who had left him behind.

"How could she?" he would mutter under his breath, the weight of abandonment heavy on his heart.

His childhood questions turned into bitter accusations, and the love he never had yearned for a twisted bitter resentment. He would always think...

She chose to leave; she didn't want me.

Now an adult, he found himself standing at a crossroads, filled with uncertainty. He had become a shadow of the boy who once sought answers, wrestling with feelings of anger and confusion.

One quiet evening, he sat alone in his dark, unpleasant, underground basement as he contemplated his life, his identity, thoughts of his mother, entangled with memories of the father he had—the man who had raised him, yet had also silenced his questions.

"Anak niya ba talaga ako?"he thought to himself, the weight of his own identity pressing down on him.

He thought of the nights spent training, the bullets fired, and the rage that had consumed him. The memories of his past collided with the present, and he found himself at the edge of a choice.

To continue down this path of resentment, or to seek understanding and perhaps forgiveness.

In that moment, he realized that the answers he sought lay not in the barrel of a gun, but in the depths of his open heart. He resolved to uncover the truth about his mother's choices and the past of his father, knowing that understanding could be the key to breaking the cycle of pain that had held him captive for so long.

As I stood in front of the mirror, the sterile light illuminating the sharp features of my porcelain face. Each curve and contour was a testament to the lineage I had inherited, a lineage I once viewed with disdain. The genetic legacy from those I once considered enemies now stared back at me, an intimidating reminder of the complex canvas of my identity.

Memories flashed through my mind—whispers of betrayal, the echoes of conflict, and the shadow of the person who fought against me. I closed my eyes, allowing the flood of flashbacks to wash over me. The tragic past battles, the weight of my father's expectations, and the insidious grip of fear enveloped me, pulling me into a whirlpool of emotions.

With a deep sigh, I inhaled the remnants of a life I was desperate to escape.

"I am not Rafael Ventura; I am a Palacios."

My declaration resonated within me, a powerful affirmation of self that shattered the chains of my past.

It was a moment of liberation, a promise to reclaim my identity on my own terms. Leaving the reflection behind, I stepped out into the world that awaited me—a world filled with uncertainty and possibility. Each step was a farewell to the confines of my former life, a declaration of war against my dark past.

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