Taking Risks

2

HIM

"RJ, saan ka pupunta? RJ, anak - sandali. RJ!"

I quickly walk away and did not even turn back when I heard my mom ran after me. I've had it- I've just had it with him. I can't stay another minute in this house even if he isn't in it anymore, having left in a hurry - probably to get another case of beer.

I can only take so much. And I know my mom won't like it if I wait out here for him and hurt him, the moment he steps out of his truck - even if it is in retaliation for her.

Because she's too weak to retaliate. Too blind by her supposed love for him.

My sister and my mom might turn a blind eye when he does the things he does - but I don't. And I won't. I won't ever forget the things he has been doing to us, to my mom most especially, and lately - he started with my sister as well. I see him for what he really is.

An asshole.

A good for nothing asshole who hurts my mom with his excessive drinking and the occasional slap on the face or her behind. Sometimes it's playful, oftentimes it's not.

And a while ago - it definitely wasn't.

"RJ, anak. Teka lang naman!"

I stop and close my eyes when I hear the hitched breath of my mom, as if she's holding back a sob. I turn around slowly and see her misty, teary eyes, making me sigh.

"Anak..."

"Stop it, Ma," I harshly but softly say, already tired of hearing all her excuses about his behavior. "Tama na ang pagtatakip at paggawa ng excuse sa kanya. Buti na lang din umalis na siya. Otherwise, baka kung ano pang nagawa ko."

"Pero..."

I put up a hand to stop her, stepping towards her and dropping a kiss on her forehead. "I won't ever get it. Hindi ko talaga maiintindihan kahit na anong explain mo pa sa'kin, Ma. Paulit ulit lang naman tayo. Kaya lang naman hindi ko kayo maiwan eh dahil sa kanya. You know this already. I turned down a lot of jobs because I cannot leave you with him. At kahit ano pang sabihin mo - my view of him won't ever change."

"Pero kasi..."

"Sige na, Ma," I interrupt before turning back around and walking towards our garage. "Buti na lang wala pa si Riza dahil kung hindi..."

I let my sentence hang as I took out my surfboard from the wall of our garage and strapped it on top of my car. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to erase the image of my younger sister under his hand.

"Saan ka ba kasi muna pupunta?"

"Sa beach. Magpapalamig. Tsaka titingnan ko na rin kung pwedeng mag-surf doon."

We've been in this new house for a week now and I have yet to check out the beach that was an hour away from us. With all the things that has been going on in our lives - the move, settling down, setting up my work-from-home web design firm, taking care of my mom and sister, making sure he doesn't get his hands on them - I haven't been able to see the sea for a while.

It's calling me now. My blood is hot and running, yearning to be one and doused with the cold waters of the ocean. And as I took another deep breath - I could smell the faint scent of the salty sea breeze in the air.

Papunta na ako.

"O sige, mag-ingat ka na lang," my mom mumbles before kissing my cheek and smiling softly but sadly up at me.

I smile a little, a small quirk of my lips to the side that makes her smile wider as she sees my deep dimple on my left cheek peek through.

"Kamukhang-kamukha ka talaga ng papa mo..."

I stop as I feel my heart clenching as she utters those words, my hand stopping on the handle of my car's door. It's been years since she mentioned something related to my biological father, opting not to acknowledge that he is really and completely gone from our lives.

You see, my dad died when I was only seven and Riza was only a year old. He died in a shipping accident, becoming lost at sea. He was a seaman, a ship captain. And he loved the ocean though he loved us more, of course. I got my love of the ocean from him.

We didn't even have a body to bury. Only a memory. They never found the bodies of the seamen that were on his ship that sank in the Pacific during that huge storm. They did recover pieces of the ship, but no one from the crew survived.

And yes - I look a lot like him. Down to the dimple on my left cheek. Which is why I'm a Junior.

Richard Faulkerson Jr.

Though I prefer to be called RJ instead of Richard. Reminds me too much of my dad.

And which is why my mother, for the longest time, cannot look at me without breaking down.

Because I remind her of dad, of a love that was quickly lost, of a love that was quickly taken away from her. Of a forever that was cut short.

But then she met him.

For a while - it was all good and dandy. He was the nicest guy ever, both to my mom and to us. For a while - it felt like we were going to be back to normal - to being a full and complete family once more.

But then he lost his job. And then the drinking started. Then slowly - the hitting. It would stop when he gets a new job and he would always say sorry for it. And then my mom would always forgive him.

But then he would do it again. And again. And again. Before finally, we find ourselves in a never ending cycle.

I sigh as I finally open the door of my car and climbed in, starting the engine and bringing my window down to peer at my mom. She sniffles and tries not to show me that she started to cry by wiping her eyes and smiling widely at me.

"Sandali lang ako sa dagat," I tell her. "Papakalma lang. Pauwi na rin si Riza, eh. Tsaka ayokong maunahan ako ni..." I can't even bring myself to call him by his name, let alone 'dad.' Even though my mother has been asking us to.

I only have one dad. And he's gone.

My mom nods and waves as I back my car out of the driveway. I look at her from my rear view mirror as I slowly drive away, watching as she walks back towards the house, thinking of ways to let her see that even with all the moving that we're doing - he isn't going to change. Ever.

I wonder how I could free her from his grasp...

And as I continue to ponder on things, I absentmindedly turn my head to the left since I think I saw something on my periphery. My brows meet when I see something move on the second floor of my neighbor's house, the curtains swaying as if it was hastily brought down.

Or it might be someone, actually. Not something.

A silhouette of someone.

Since I'm pretty sure that what or rather - who I just saw was a girl, looking at me as I was driving down our street.

//

A/N: So... What do you think? Balik dating gawi ala-Photographer. What do you want to see happen? 👀 I will dedicate the next chapter to the person who would be able to give the best suggestion 😍😁

Unbeta'ed and not proofread as always so any mistakes you saw were mine. Let me know of any inconsistencies ok? Hehe 😅

Salamat sa palaging pagtangkilik! Tweet me at @wuthie16 😘 I'd love to be your friend.