The Witness
The flame of my lighter brought sight on the darkness of the isolated road I’m taking. I sip my cigarette for the last bit until it reaches its filter. I was walking on that narrow road as usual. But unlike any ordinary day, I feel anger, misjudgment, and uncanny mood right now.
“You’re such a disappointment!” my father exclaimed a while ago and that triggered my anger bell. “Everybody tells me what you’re doing!”
“Pa, I don’t …” I said as I want to defend myself but before I explain he already cut me out.
“From now on you’ll be grounded,” he said after.
“I did nothing, Pa. This is unfair. I am not the one who brought out those liquors, believe me!” I pleaded. But he obviously didn’t believe me.
He nodded sarcastically and said, “Well, you’re failing grades already explained to me everything.”
I knew it. He wouldn’t believe me. He never did.
The next thing I did is run into the gate and get the hell out of that house. Well, I’m a failure. It’s their entire fault. They drag me to a course I never wanted and I will never want.
As I walk on that dimmed way, I heard someone’s voice. A voice that seems pleading. A tiny weep in pain. I was about to continue taking steps until I heard a vibrant sound of a gunshot followed by the howling man in pain.
I felt adrenaline into my nerves. I want to run but my feet kept in pause. I turn a bit on the side of the road where I heard those sounds.
I saw a man’s figure in the dark, holding something that seems familiar to me. Yes, it’s a gun. He is aiming the gun to another guy who keeps on weeping in pain holding his left leg.
“Now its payback time,” the gunman implied.
“Please, don’t…” the man on the sidewalk pleaded while aiming to stand.
BANG!!!
The gun was triggered and its sound filled my ears as it sparks.
I lose force as I saw the guy fall his last breath away. The gunman turns as he put his gun on his waist. He saw me.
I want to run but I can’t. My mind keeps shouting I have to run but I can’t feel anything. I heard the gunman’s footsteps towards me. I can still feel nothing. I want to scream but not a single word escape from me.
I feel goose bumps as the gunman tap my back. He then whispered on my left ear, “Hope no one will know.”
I smell a particular scent. I heard a familiar voice. It’s the gunman. No way. He is not him.
I suddenly felt uneasiness. This could not be happening. No way. I can’t breathe. I loosen force again. Suddenly I was covered by a total darkness.
I found myself next lying on the bed inside a plain white room. My arms are tied on a white dress. I can't move my arms. I look around and on my side was my mother crying.
“Ma?” I called her. “What was this?”
But before my mother reply the door opens. It’s my father.
I then recall the darkness. The gun. The weep. It's him. The gunman. The killer.
“You killed the guy!” I hysterically shouted. Yes, my father was the killer. “ You are a criminal.”
He didn’t mind me.
Then he said to my mother, “See I told you honey, he keeps on saying that after I saw him on a road having this packs of methamphetamine on his hands. He ruined his life.”
He lied. That’s not true. Liar.
“No that’s not true!” I shouted. “Ma believe me he killed the guy last night. He’s a killer.”
Then a girl in white uniform went on my side. He held my right arm as I continue shouting about what my father did. Suddenly, I felt pain on my right arm. I started losing force. I was again dimmed.
It was dark I heard someone pleading in pain. “Please, don’t,” the voice keeps on saying again and again. It was the voice of that guy. The guy lying with pain in the sidewalk.
I run as fast as I can. I shout for help but it was a continuous darkness. The voice keeps on going louder. I run. I screamed.
I shouted, “NO!!!”
As I catch my breath, I open my eyes. It was just a dream. It was the guy father killed.
Then, a particular sound was on air, “Please don’t.”
“Who’s that?” I said as I look around.
But nobody answered. The voice keeps on getting louder. He’s pleading. He’s in pain. I covered my ears hoping the sound will disappear. But it keeps on playing unto my ears. I run to the corner of the room but I can still hear the voice.
Hopelessly, I shouted, “NO!”
But the weeping voice continues to fill the air. It's killing me. I scream for help but nobody rescue.
I'm helpless.
copyright Christian Estapia 2014
