What Is It, Anyway?

Prologue

The rain is pouring wildly in the middle of the night. All I can hear was the sound of my music playing while I drink my coffee. Calm? I don't know because identifying my feelings was the least I want to do. I decided to do my evening routine before I headed to bed. As I closed my eyes, I heard our doorbell ring. Dad? Probably, but it is too early and unexpected for a busy person like him. "Sweetheart! I knew you'd be home," Aunt Mary happily said as she vulgarly entered the house. I looked at her feeling at home with her dripping umbrella in my hand. There's a strange feeling I can sense inside me, but I get used to ignoring it because no one did ever understand me.

"What are you doing here in the middle of the night?" I asked before she could even turn on the television. "You are so insensitive. Is that how you greet your visitor?"

Insensitive. Inconsiderate. Cold-blooded. Cold-hearted. For few years, I've heard it a lot, and I do not understand why. I offered her coffee and sat on the other end of the sofa.

"Seems like my lovely brother is not here. He is always busy at work." The first thing that comes out of her mouth was always about her sweet little brother— Dad.

"And here you are, always meddling with our lives."

"Since the accident, you've always talked to me that way."

I shut my mouth because my head will hurt if I heard any of what she will say. She is always mentioning that incident without a second thought to keep me shut up. "Supposedly, I have a date around this area, but due to traffic and flood, my man did not show up so, I thought I could spend the night at your home, and I have some errands to do here." She handed me an invitation— a wedding invitation.

"Your uncle Micheal is getting married within few weeks, and he asked me to give this to your father."

Wedding and love. I wonder how it feels to be in love. I shrugged off the idea and walked upstairs to sleep because I have classes tomorrow. I did not bother to tell my aunt what time my father will come home because I am unaware as she is. The small lampshade gives light to my side table with paper and pencil on it. I sat down, and as I hold the pencil, my hand dances with strokes and gracefulness. Within few minutes, an image shows at my art. I never wanted to be an artist, but drawing gives me bizarre feelings. I put my art in the folder of my few artworks with the picture of my mom. Like my artistry, the image of my smiling mother gives a different sensation that I can not explicate.

I told myself that I have to sleep early, yet my consciousness is still wide awake in the middle of the night. I stared blankly at the ceiling while reflecting on myself. What am I, and my purpose? What are joy, sadness, and love? After few years, only fear is all I can understand. I am afraid of heights: the only feeling I am not in doubt. I shrugged my idea off because it shivers down my spine thinking I am somewhere high.

I woke up with rough wind slapping on my face. I saw the mountain, oceans, and forests under me. I screamed at the top of my lungs, and I heard a familiar voice calling my name, "Zoe! Zoe! It is all okay because I am here with you." That is when my tears fell because whatever happens, she is with me. I closed my eyes and held her hand tightly. As I open my eyes, the room of mine is what I saw. Just a dream, but it felt so real.

I looked at my side clock, and it is 5:03 in the morning. I woke up earlier than my alarm. I tried to bury that incident in the past, but it keeps on haunting me. I heard steps coming at my door.

"Penelope, are you awake already?"

"Yes, Dad."

"I did not cook this morning because I am already late for work, so cook for yourself, okay?"

I answered yes, and heard footsteps away from my door. I started fixing my bed and overhear a person downstairs. I almost forgot that Aunt Mary was here. I heard her complaining because there is no food for breakfast, so I told her to cook for herself. It annoys her, causing her to get out of the house earlier than I expected. I started my morning routine, and before I put my shoes in, I glance at the telephone beside me. I can not remember very well, but I know I am expecting a call right now, or did I forget to pay something? I dismissed my thoughts as I noticed that it is already 7:28, and my classes start at 8:00. Twenty minutes of travel can be a nuisance with traffic and accidents. I rode my bicycle to go to school.

While on the road, I noticed an accident happening at the intersection, which causes chaotic traffic. I slowed down due to the gathering of people near the accident. I saw the lady crying while embracing the person lying on the road while others passing by were taking pictures, calling for help, and some want to intrigue what is occurring. What does she crying for anyway? The person that was about to die was going somewhere peaceful.

"BOO!" I suddenly pressed the brake because of the person who tapped me from the back.

"Why are you still here? Aren't you supposed to go to school earlier today?"

"C'mon, Penelope, aren't you glad that we can go to school with each other today?" Francheska asked while laughing.

"What's happiness anyway?

"What are you talking saying? You are always asking that question wherever we are. It is like you never experienced having a good time."

I did before, didn't I?

"Anyway, what's with the crowd?" She asked as we tried to squeeze ourselves in the bunch of people. I did not answer her right away because she will not understand it anyway. After we passed the bunch of people, we rode our bicycles.

"There's an accident, and everyone's talking how injured the victim is."

"Such a pity, right?"

"I do not know. I mean, a dead person goes somewhere happier, right? So what are you feeling pity for?"

She looked at me with confusion and shocked, "so you do not feel pity at all?"

"What is pity first?"

She gave me an example, "Do you show your love and care to your father?" "Maybe," I said because I do not know. I do not even know what love is.

"Now, when you saw a child crying because their parents split up, do you not feel pity?"

"I do not understand. Just thinking about the situation, I just come up with reasons why their parents might split up." I said and shrugged my shoulders. She sighed and decided not to explain to me what she is saying. As we arrived at school, we parked our bicycles and headed to our designated classrooms.

Everyone is talking about how their weekends are while I look at them, telling them what I want to say.

"I heard we have a new teacher in Personal Development," Cheska told me since she likes to listen to gossips.

"Why? What happened to Mrs. Flor?"

"I do not know, but I heard she resign due to a family problem."

I nodded and listened to music on my phone. I am not a talkative person since they can't understand me, and vice versa. They keep saying I am humorless. I agree and never bothered to prove myself.

After few minutes, an unknown person enters our classroom. Cheska tapped me, "he's our new teacher." I okay-ed sign to her. Wherever there's news, Cheska is present.

"Hello, students of 4-B. I am your new teacher in Personal Development since Mrs. Flor Sanchez decided to change school she wants to teach," I heard frown because Mrs. Flor is indeed a good teacher. "Everyone, listen. I am Mr. Gary Villaflor, and I am pleased to meet all of you. You might miss Mrs. Flor, but I also have 'flor' in my name, right?" Everyone laughs because of what Mr. Gary said. "Now, everyone, would you all mind if I ask for your name and hobbies? Okay, me first. As I said earlier, I am Mr. Gary, I am a psychology and a mental health counselor, and I like to procrastinate, same as some of you, I bet. I have my office a few minutes' walk from your school. I was encouraged to teach by my niece and nephew because they said I could connect to students. Well, therapists must know how to connect to people, right? But do not worry, I finished my education degree Major in Psychology. Anyway, let us start with you," he said as he pointed to the first person in the first row. Everyone seems excited while I am just waiting for my turn. Mr. Gary teaches here in almost the middle of the school year, which means we all know each other. Those who were friends keep on messing with their friend's introduction, which leads to a fun way to know each other. Observing people in different situations helps me on how I must act in this certain circumstances. I tried to smile because everyone is happy, so do I, right? I stood up when my turn comes, "I am Zoe Penelope Devon. Sir, you can call me Penelope, and I draw." "Uh-huh. Anything else?" I shook my head as a no. When everyone finishes their introduction, Mr. Gary gave all of us a piece of small paper on our desks while on his desk, a box with a hole. "Now, I want all of you to write what you are feeling right now. Are you happy, sad, excited, or mourning? Anything you are feeling or something you are having trouble sharing with anyone right now. Do not write your name in it, okay?"

I wonder what does Mr. Gary wants. I suddenly fell deep into my thoughts because of what we are doing right now. Everyone is silent, probably because all of us were in deep thoughts.

After thinking, I decided to write something that I want to experience. I stood up and folded the paper a few times, small enough for the hole. Once everyone finished the task, the class bell rang, which explains the class is over. Mr. Gary carried the box and walked out of the classroom after saying thank you to us.

Everything flows today very smoothly, not until I came back home. I do not expect Dad to be home this early. It is just 18:04, and our main door was open. "Dad? Are you already home?" I shouted while getting my scissor in the bag because this was my Dad taught me. "Penelope, baby? Are you home already?" I heard a familiar voice coming from inside, probably in the kitchen.

"Penelope! You are home."

"Yes, Mama," I said as I hugged my grandmother— Mama.

Maybe this is the call I am waiting for before I head to school. Time flies so fast. I can still remember Mama told me that they are going to come here and spend few days and leave once the birthday of Dad passed.

'Dad's Birthday!'

I wonder what does my Dad likes nowadays.

"Thinking about gifts and presents for Angelito?"

"Yes, Mama. He is always busy, so I never get the chance to ask what does he like." I sighed.

"Angelito is such a good son. I did not know why he is not making time with you. But I know he will love anything, as long as it is from you." I hugged Mama and asked her about her day. She said that Papa was in the market to buy food for dinner. She even told me that Papa keeps on complaining yet still obeys Mama's order. Conversations like this create a curve on my lips that I could not help.

Same as before, I can feel the bizarre sensation inside me. Late at night, when Mama cooks, I go to my room to do my homework. While in the middle of my thoughts, Mr. Gary suddenly appears in my mind. Something is wrong with me. I can feel that something is not right with me because I can not connect to people, and I can not understand myself, my feelings in particular. Therapy, huh?

"Penelope, are you okay? I've been calling you many times, and you are not answering. Does something bothers you?" I felt a gentle caress on my back.

"Mama, do you think Dad will be fine if I ask him that I booked on a Psychotherapy?"

"Psychotherapy? Is it a conversation talking about mental health?"

I nodded.

"Well, if your Dad thinks as I do, he will, but you should ask him yourself. He is your guardian, after all. Anyway, let us eat downstairs. Your Papa wants to see you badly."

"Sure, Mama."

I followed Mama downstairs. "Is this baby Penelope? You've grown so well. I can still remember when I am carrying you with my arms." I hugged him.

We talked until my Dad arrives. "Angelito! You always get home this late. Why can't you get enough time for your daughter?" I just smiled when Papa tried to scold Dad. "Sorry, sweetheart. I'll make it next time." He said and kissed me on my head. He greeted and kissed Papa and Mama before heading to his room. I heard the lock clicked, which means he does not want him to disturb.

"I will be the one who will apologize for the behavior of my son. You know, father always wants the best for us, the reason why your father is working hard."

"Yes, Mama. I understand."

I decided that today is not a good day to ask Dad about the Psychotherapy. As I walked past his room, I heard some arguments. I know it was out of my league, but there's eagerness inside me that wants to know what is happening to my father. I knocked three times, but I did not hear footsteps, nor the arguments anymore. "Dad?" I called, but no one answered. Why are you pushing me away, Dad? I was supposed to knock again, but I heard the click of the doorknob.

"Dad, what is happening inside? I heard some arguments. I just wanted to check up on you."

"Thanks, sweetheart. Do not bother yourself to worry about me. Everything is fine."

"Dad, few days since you come home late, yet you have to go to work so early. I haven't talked to you with actual conversation. I do not know what is happening to you. You do not know what is happening to me. Are we family? or just roommates? I barely saw and talk to you. I did not know if I have a father or not." I said what I wanted to say. I can not stop myself from saying those words, but I did not know why I am like this. It seems I am at the edge of something I can not explain. After saying all those words, I decided to walk to my room because I did not know how to face my father. I know I said to Mama and Papa that I understand Dad for being such a hardworking father to me, but I can't control myself back then. I sighed and washed my face before heading to my bed.

I must be crazy.

A few minutes later, I heard someone opening my door. The person sat down beside me and caressed my head. "It must be so difficult for you. You do not have any siblings to lean on, but you are so brave for standing up for yourself. We are proud of you. You are such an angel." Mama said before she kissed my forehead. Later that night, I waited for my father to come in, but I ended up falling asleep.

Tomorrow morning at school, I saw everyone is talking about the fortune teller near the church. It was known because even Cheska keeps on asking me if I wanted to go to the fortune-teller. Unfortunately for her, I refuse. Fortune-tellers do not excite me because I believe they are all lying and imaginative.

"They do not base on any scientific explanation. How would you know if fortune-tellers are telling you the truth? What if they are lying?"

"What if they are not? Come on, just come with me after school."

"No."

"I will ask the fortune-teller to tell me about my love life also you are just coming with me. I will not force you to grab the chance of knowing what will happen in your future."

I looked at her with doubt-face. She said promise with a smile. Though with a doubt, "alright." I give up refusing because Cheska will not give up on me.

Everyone is starting to gather their thing in their bag because it's time to go home. "Penelope, Mr. Gary wanted to see you in his office." I looked at Cheska. "Go on. I will wait for you outside the school." I nodded. I walked to Mr. Gary's office while wondering why he ever wants to see me. It is his second day, and there were no activities that I did not do. I did not get in trouble, didn't I? I knocked on his office and entered the room. "Zoe! You're here." I did not smile and request him to call me Penelope. "Oh, so Penelope. I observed all of my classes yesterday, and in your section, someone wrote, 'Sir, I do not know what to do. Can I come into your office to ask for counseling?' Is this you, perhaps?"