Runaway's Liberation

Chapter 5

Like any kid, I grew up having bad dreams. There were a lot of them. And then I would wake up finding it hard to breathe. Catching for air. Pawisan. Sobrang bilis ng tibok ng puso ko. Tapos ang bigat. Ang bigat sa dibdib. Ang bigat-bigat sa pakiramdam.

I cannot explain those nightmares. I just know it was all scary. I just know na halos magkakatulad lang lahat ng 'yon. I was always running. I kept on escaping from something. I was always looking back if the monster was trying to catch me.

But one thing's for sure. All of those bad dreams had only one location: our house. My home. I was escaping from our house. And I was all alone. I didn't see Ma. I didn't know where's Nadi.

I only feel at ease once I'm already away from our house. Sa mga bangungot na 'yon, tsaka lang ako nakakahinga nang maluwag kapag malayo na ako. Because the monster's in there. I just know that I have to get away so that the monster won't be able to hurt me. And once I'm away, magiging okay na ako. Ayos na. Ligtas na ako. Hindi na ako maaabutan ng kung anumang creature 'yon.

Growing up, I didn't think much about it. Nakakalimutan ko rin kasi. Nagigising na lang ako na hindi ko na 'yon maalala. I just thought that bad dreams are always like that. I didn't know what it meant. I thought it was normal. But then I came to a point na, "ah, I remember this. I had it before, and now I'm having it again." Dumating yung punto na naalala ko na yung bangungot na 'yon pagkagising ko. Tumatak 'yon sa isip ko. Hanggang sa hindi ko na malimutan. Hanggang sa maintindihan ko na lahat.

The monster was a shadow. It's a shadow of a tall man. It's moving as if it's drunk. And he's going to hurt me if he sees me. He's gonna pull my hair and punch me on my side. He's going to grip on my neck.

And when I realized that the monster in those nightmares is my father, I was hurt.

Hindi ko rin alam kung bakit ako nasaktan. Because how could a father be a monster in his own son's bad dreams? What did he do to deserve that?

And what does that make of the boy?

Hindi ko pa 'yon noon matanggap. Hindi pa. Masaya kasi kami.

I even used to think the worst part was the fear. Sobrang takot na takot kasi ako noon tuwing magigising. Halos hindi ako makagalaw. But now I know-it was actually the silence after waking up. The part where I sat there in the dark, when I finally realized what it all meant. The part where I had to deny it. The part when I'm too afraid to cry, because crying would make it real.

I remember one night-I think I was thirteen-I stayed curled in the corner of my bed until morning. I had that nightmare again. It came back. Again. Hindi ako makalabas noon. Umaga na, male-late na ako sa school ko, pero hindi ako nagtangka na lumabas. I just knew that the hallway that morning felt too long. And too dark.

Hindi ako makakibo. I knew he was out there. I could hear things fall on the floor. I could hear the door slam. I kept thinking, "if I stay quiet, maybe I'll disappear." Pilit kong itinatatak sa isip ko na mapoprotektahan ako ng pananahimik. Ng hindi pagkibo. Na magagawa no'n na maitago ako.

Sometimes, I wonder if the house remembers. If the walls, the floor, or if the cracked corner near the kitchen sink-if they remember the shouting and the crying and the breaking, or even the slightest sound coming from my heels when I stopped my tracks because I was afraid my parents might realize that I was hearing them and they couldn't hide it from me.

It made me love tiptoeing. I loved tiptoeing around everything, because I'm hoping to make myself small enough not to be noticed.

And maybe that's what hurts the most. That even in my dreams, even as a child, I knew: Home wasn't a place I could run to. It was the place I always had to run from.