Chapter 8: BREAKFAST

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I cautiously entered the room where I had left Oteph sleeping earlier. Instantly, Oteph sprang out of bed and tearfully embraced me as I opened the door.

"You said...you said you wouldn't leave me," my younger brother sobbed.

I sat down in front of him, gently stroking his sweat-soaked hair. "But I didn't leave, did I? I'm right here with you."

"But you were gone, you weren't there when I woke up," he continued, accusingly.

"I was just helping in the kitchen to prepare breakfast. I would never leave you. You know how much I love you; I would never abandon you," I explained, wiping his tears away.

"Promise me, Ate, promise me you won't leave, okay?" he said, his crying starting to subside.

"Of course, your the only one that I have. So calm down. Breakfast is delicious today, now go wash up and get ready in the mess hall," I reassured him, hoping to divert his attention.

Oteph relaxed his tight grip on me and hurriedly entered the small bathroom adjacent to our room. He left the bathroom door open, afraid he wouldn't see me in the room. Oftentimes, he still dreamt about the abuse we suffered from Aunt Alma and Daddy Rudy. It saddened me each time Oteph woke up in the middle of the night from those nightmares, he was screaming and trembling in fear. I didn't know how to ease the trauma he experienced from our parents. Mrs. Garcia from the social welfare often provided support and counseling, recognizing that Oteph was experiencing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

"Ate, I'm done washing up," Oteph said, now smiling, as he hung the used towel on the laundry line.

"Come over here, let me check if my little sibling smells nice!" I said with a smile, reaching out my hand. He eagerly came closer and hugged me tightly.

I playfully sniffed his hair and neck. "Hmm... you smell good. What about your armpits? Are they pleasant too?" I teased, about to tickle his underarms, but he giggled and tried to push my hand away.

"No, Ate, stop it!" Oteph said, laughing.

"Why not? I just want to see if they're nice too," I playfully insisted, preparing to make another attempt.

"No, Ate, I'm ticklish," he replied, still laughing.

"You're already ticklish, but I haven't done anything yet?"

"Well, I am ticklish," he happily responded, pulling his hand away from mine and running towards the door. "Chase me, Ate!"

"Oh, is that so?" I replied, quickly standing up to chase him out of the room. "Alright, here I come. If I catch you, I'll give those stinky armpits of yours a big kiss!" I playfully exclaimed, joining in the game.

Oteph's laughter filled the air, sounding like music to my ears. During the time we were under the control of our father, I rarely heard those joyful, hearty laughs from him. That's why I was so happy that even for just this moment, my sibling could forget about the painful past.

Oteph loved playing as a child, but he weren't fond of interacting with the other children at the center. I often encouraged them to join and play with kids their age, but they preferred to stay alone in our room. They never wanted me to leave his side.

As I chased Oteph towards the mess hall, other children from the center were beginning to gather for breakfast, I noticed the smile on Mama Flora's face when she saw us. Oteph and I settled near her, and I helped Ms. Teresa in preparing the meal. I observed Oteph how he took Mama Flora's hand and placed it on his forehead. Then he sat beside her and engage in conversation with her.

"Is Oteph doing okay now, Andrea?" Mrs. Verna asked, still frying some dried fish. I could see the worry on her face regarding my sibling's well-being.

"Oteph is fine, don't worry. He woke up and didn't find me by his side, he thought I had left him here at the center. That's why he was crying when he couldn't see me," I reassured Mrs. Verna.

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