TW: Drugs, Violence, Suicide
They all say these girls have died for me. I refused to bear the weight of its truth. I'd say no one is worth dying for but the fowls of threat like the naive, the beaten and the truth. Among all of these, I am anything but.
When an empty soul meets a broken heart, easily it alludes to a doomed fate. Scars have longed been etched in their hearts way before I met them. I, a walking void that seeks for a gasping existence no matter how they are in shreds...
This could be why I was drawn to the wounded--Like a knife to a delicate skin. Kung masasagip ko sila, magiging maayos na ako. Mabubuo. I don't have to blame myself each time I fail to save my mother. Having taken care of her doesn't equate to pulling her back to sanity after I fell from the belief that as a care taker, I can also be her savior.
Now, that conviction starts to decay from how much truth was in it. Or was there ever nothing?
But then, do I want to save merely for my self-interest? Do I seek to save just to relieve me from the throes of uselessness? Kasi 'di ba ang pagtulong o ang pagsagip ay dapat walang kapalit? If my penchant for saving, my mother the most, is just to feed my starving virtue, then how terrible of a son am I?
Kung tayo lang ang makakatulong sa sarili natin, hindi ba 'to kaya ng ina ko? I've been doing what I deem is right for her to get back on her feet, but if her mind has become a lost cause, my heroism after all has just been nothing short of an abortive attempt.
At kung may isang araw man na bumalik sa katinuan si Mama, isang tanong para sa kanya. Bakit? Naging plano ba ako para makabuo kayo ng sariling pamilya o dahil wala na kayong magawa dahil nandito na at ang ipalaglag ako ay hindi kaya ng inyong konsensiya?
Well now it just makes me realize how in both ways, I'm still a failure and a raging disappointment.
So what worth do I have these people die for when I have always been this way--an abbreviated piece of nothing dressed in a cheap garment. How... when I'm just merely standing here, confused and useless, in front of a distraught Jezebeth?
"Sinong gumawa nito sa 'yo? 'Yung gagong ex mo ba?"
Umiling siya at nanatiling nakayuko. I crouched a little enough to steal a look on her face for bruises that might be present. Ang tanging narinig ko sa kanya ay sinok at mararahang singhap na lamay sa mabigat na pag-iyak.
Gusto ko siyang hawakan at tahanin ngunit nag-aalangan ako. The bruises in her arm and that glaring hand print on her neck are easy giveaways of what might have been done to her, but I hesitated because I might break her even more. Sa galit ko sa kung sino man ang gumawa nito sa kanya, marahang hawak ko lang yata ay makadagdag pa ako sa mga galos niya.
Halos ayaw na niya nga akong lapitan at sa marahang amba kong paglapit, napapaurong siya at tila ba inasahan ang paglapat ng kamay ko sa kanyang mukha kahit na wala naman akong ginagawa.
I just stood frozen, waiting for her to reach out to me.
"Jez, gusto kitang tulungan. Kung hindi mo pa kayang sabihin sa 'kin kung anong nangyari, sabihin mo nalang kung sinong gumawa nito sa 'yo't mapuruhan ko--"
"I don't think I trust anyone..." her whisper trembled, shaking her head as if she's talking to herself.
Sandali akong natigilan dahil tila hindi niya ako naririnig, o para bang nasa ibang mundo siya. At this moment she just seemed lost to me. I'm starting to fear that I'm standing on a familiar place.
Dahan-dahan akong umupo sa tabi niya.
"Nandito naman ako. I can keep secrets..."
"But even if I trust you, yes it's a guarantee that my secrets are safe, but might not be the person I share the secret with."
