The Heir's Retribution

CHAPTER 38

TRIGGER WARNING: 

Captivity, Blood/ Gore, Familial Death, Graphic Violence, Gun Violence, Explosions

Chapter 38: MEMORIES

Isang matinis na tunog ang umalingawngaw sa aking mga tainga. Palakas ito nang palakas sa bawat tibok ng aking puso. I was frozen in place while staring at my mother's body sprawled across the cold floor.

Her skin looked pale and waxen, a haunting contrast to the pool of crimson blood spreading across the floor beneath her. A viscous white liquid clung to her body, staining her in ways I couldn't yet understand but already hated.

"Umma..." I whispered, barely breathing the word.

My older sister falls backward behind me. Trembling hard. 

The clinking of belts ceased. As the men around her fixed themselves, my gaze remained locked on my mother's body, waiting for her to move and come back to us like she always does. 

I counted... 

1...

2...

3...

4...

5...

6...

7...

8...

9...

...

The evil man kicked my mother's stomach, forcing her body to twist toward us.

That's when I saw it.

The hole in the center of her forehead, still leaking blood.

Her eyes were open... but lifeless.

Staring straight at me.

I moved on instinct, dragging myself forward, my knees scraping against the rough concrete. But my progress was abruptly stopped by the cold, unyielding bars. My hands shot out, gripping the iron so tightly it burned into my skin.

"Umma!" I screamed, my voice cracking with the force of my desperation and tears blurring my vision. 

My fingers curled tighter around the bars, as if I could tear them down, as if I could crawl through them and bring her back with nothing but my touch. 

But the bars didn't budge.

And she didn't move.

She's dead.

A word I still don't fully understand... but I know that's her. I know it in the way her chest no longer rises. In the stillness of her fingers. In the way her eyes don't blink. She doesn't see me anymore. She doesn't even know I'm here.

I remember the day she explained death to me. I was curled in her arms during a thunderstorm. Ang sabi niya ay payapa raw iyon, like sleeping without pain. She said death came to old people when their time was done... when they had lived a full life.

But Umma isn't old.

She's not done raising us. She hasn't even taught me how to ride a bike yet. She didn't see Unnie graduate. She never got to grow old with Baba. 

And if death is peaceful... does that mean she won't feel pain anymore? Won't cry anymore? I try to believe that.

But then... why would she leave without me? Without Unnie? Without Baba?

Why did she go alone?

Marahas na bumaling sa akin ang lalaking nakatayo sa harap ni Umma. His eyes were wild, and his jaw clenched.