Madrid Squad

Anger

"Kuya, I'm sorry."

Amir was appalled as what he truly felt dawned upon himself. It was a horrifying feeling-- new and wrapped with unfamiliarity. It was natural, according to his elders, and will come many more times in his life but it felt disgusting in his heart. The feeling was odd but it felt addictive. He couldn't get enough of it but he wanted to push it away. Bittersweet misery was what that feeling was as it etched more and more into his heart and warmth started to prickle at the back of his eyes.

This is the first time 10-year-old Amir Joaquin has ever gotten genuinely angry.

Sure, there had been times when he got irritated and annoyed but they faded too quickly to even progress into more complex feelings. But this was different, it was deep and dark like a void whose depth he was curious to explore but too afraid to do so. He was afraid of this feeling like he has never been afraid before.

"I hate you."

Almost like his mouth moved without his consent, his words shocked not only his sister, for whom the words were intended, but himself as well. He sounded so bona fide. He knew he meant those words. He meant those words, the words that were shot towards his little sister. It occurred to him what he just said. He felt awful but the words tasted so good on his tongue like tactlessness and sweet deviousness. He hated how he reveled in this new feeling because he knew it was wrong but it just felt so appropriate.

No longer able to bear the confusion of what he felt and the pain that made its way through his heart as he watched his sister stare up at him with pained eyes, he about faced and sprinted towards his bedroom, leaving his stunned parents behind.

In his room, Amir cradled his broken heart with his tears and his now half burnt up manuscript in his hands. God, he felt awful for feeling angry at Noelle but his manuscript was now ruined. Never having typed the literary work in a device and preferring to write it down manually, he was very proud of all the hard work he invested in it. In a snap of a finger, his clumsy young sister threw it in the bonfire Lolo Robin was building for their camp night that day. She had been so nonchalant about it until he found out. He was immensely enraged and hurt even if it was a mere accident. Try as he may, he could not be the patient big brother for Noelle at the moment. He was much too livid and distressed for that. How he wanted to forgive his sister but it seemed much too impossible.

A knock came on his mahogany door followed by a subtle creak as the shadow of his mother made its appearance with a 3-year-old little boy clinging onto her leg. Her face with painted with colors of empathy without a trace of anger. She looked like an angel ready to save him from this trench of dubiety that he was in.

Kylie bent down to be at the curious toddlers level and whispered very lovingly, "Go find Daddy, dear. I'll go get you in a while."

The young one nodded and made his way to find his father while his mother slowly closed the door to her eldest son's bedroom. She very slowly walked to his bed, looking almost like she was gliding. Sitting down on the foot of the bed, she extended her hand towards the distressed boy on the other side of the bed. The boy, feeling too filthy for her grace, could not find it in himself to take her hand.

"Come to me, love." and so he did, feeling somehow lighter when finally enveloped in his mother's embrace.

For a moment, they were just silent. The only sound coming from the crumpling of the half burnt manuscript between them both.

"Mum, I don't like feeling like this," he whispered.

"Feeling like what, dearest?" she inquired, already knowing the answer but still wanting him to express himself.

"I...," he licked his lips, "I don't know. I'm... I'm so angry."

Again, the crumpling of paper was heard as he held out his burnt manuscript to his mother, showing how awful it now looked.

"It was supposed to be a really nice novel, Mum," he sniffed, "and she ruined it."

Kylie smiled at her precocious son and wiped the stray tears on his cheek with the back of her forefinger, "I know, darling, and you have every right to be very angry at your sister."

"But big brothers aren't supposed to hate their baby sisters, right?"

"But you don't really hate your sister, do you?" she asked ever so gently.

"I don't want to hate her but a while ago, when I said I...h-hated her, it felt true to me."

"Honey," she sighed and pulled him closer, "you were angry and sometimes when we're angry, we say things that feel real in that moment but aren't actually true."

"I feel so horrid, mum," he finally bursts out crying, "I want to forgive her, really I do but I'm so angry at her. I want to hurt her and I feel as though I'd enjoy that. I'm so angry. Help me please."

Kylie's heart nearly shattered at his plea.

"Amir, kuya, it's okay to be angry. Like I said, your feelings are valid. You worked very hard on that manuscript and I know Daddy and I promised we'd get that published so I know where you're coming from, my love. I would be angry as well if I were in your position."

He looked up at his mother with his beady eyes, "No, you wouldn't. You're never angry."

She snorted, "Dearest, I'm angry almost everyday of my life for different reasons but I don't let it get the best of me or better yet, I walk away from the situation for a bit to gather myself so I don't hurt people."

"You wanna hurt people when you're angry as well?"

"Mhmm, it's kind of human nature."

"Well, how come you never say hurtful things?"

"I've lived a much longer life than you, my boy. I've had so much time to work on it."

He nodded.

Silence.

"How do I forgive her, mum? I love Noelle so much and I really want to forgive her."

She smiled, "I think you already have, love."