JINX

EPISODE 6

|Friday, 10th of January

I once promised myself that I will never cry again. After dad died, after well left his cold body into that cemetery, after we got home, I stood still in front of the mirror and took a deep breath, looking deep into my dried, red puffy eyes. That moment I really saw something that my eyes had wished I have read my eyes before- I have forgotten how my eyes looked when I was happy. 

Can I still remember how it actually feels to be truly, genuinely happy?

That realization soon taught me to make one thing for certain: Wipe those tears out and mouth the words, "I will never cry, ever! This will be the last, and only the last that I'll see these tears out of my eyes."

That moment, I am certain that I don't want to feel the pain that sadness had caused me, or to anyone who might have health with the same situation as I do.

But that moment, as I can remember it correctly, I am crying inside. Deeply, sadly, mourning silently on the inside. No tears were shed from my eyes. In fact, I didn't feel like crying physically... at all. But I'm not totally numb yet. i know that I am crying inside and that my head is aching real bad. Like a sting that would leave a mark, making my bones like a jell-o.

I know I am in pain. I know I am drowning myself inside the darkness of my hurtful past and that moment I thought, there'll be no light. it happened real quick, making me just realize, I was in something so much serious.

And that moment when I finally got to sink everything that had happened, I was stuned to see there is! There's a light that suddenly hits my pair brown dried  and spark-less eyes that even made me use my palm to cover my sight from that blinding ray of light.

That is the moment that I knew, I am alive.

Realizing where I was that time, I was lying in a hospital bed, covered with all stainless white- white sheet, white pillow covers, white mattress, white curtains, white walls, and white door. It almost made me think that I am in heaven and I thought that "am i going to be with dad now?" But, no. I am alive. I didn't even realize that it was already two weeks since he left and here i am, ready to follow him.

But, I am just here, lying weak on the hospital bed.

That day, I didn't have much of a choice but to cry. Mom telling me i had experienced a near-death situation? I then remember that i had cut myself and bled out, thinking that I'm almost done draining myself... But... There's light.

But, i don't know if i'd be too grateful after seeing how society slowly turned its back on me. I don't know if i should be happy now that mom finally have moved on while i am still mourning.

And tonight, i felt like crying once again... And there it was... The liquid that symbolizes hurt.

I failed my own promise.

I'm sorry for being so emotional right now, diary.

Sincerely,

Miguel

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Miguel woke up to the sound of screeching of tires and the steady breathing of the two persons beside him. He could guess he's in between them that makes him panic even more.

"Hmmm!! Hmmph!!" He started creating muffled screams as his eyes are wide open, seeing only darkness.

"Oh shut up you m*therf*cker!" The guy who he heard not from afar, said. He guessed he's sitting into the passenger's seat. That didn't seem to intimidate him, for the only thing that kept his mind running is making every scene purely detailed just in case he needs to testify when someone dares to save him. He continues, trying to scream words he cannot seem to pronounce because of the gag that's been bothering his words.

"I said shut the f*ck up!"

He starts yelling and panting as he could feel his heart palpitating. The car kept on moving as he tries to squeeze himself out from the guys. He didn't stop moving nor screaming that made the guy grip him from the neck, making him gasp from the sudden movement, and the cold hand gripping his warm neck.

"Quiet you son of a b*tch if you don't want me pulling this f*cking trigger up into that brain of yours!" A deep voice said as he could feel him pointing the gun at the right temple of his head. He gulped, feeling threatened that made him shut his mouth, not wanting to die.

Not today. Not like this. He thought to himself.

"See? Shutting is not so bad ey?" The guy said as they chuckle, making him want to cry. No! I cannot cry. I have to be tough!

With the absence of help and confidence, he found himself enduring his head aching. He attempted visioning what's ahead of them through the black cloth that is covered all over his face, preventing him to probably identify where they are. All he can identify is faint light. He didn't say another word, nor complain about his captivity because he knew it would be stupid to do it twice, or he will face punishment, far worse than the gun pointed at his skull.

Not only that is his problem but also the smell of the cloth as well gives him the chills. It smelled like a corpse or something dead, it even smells metallic, giving him the urge to vomit. He was never fond of traveling. But because his head is aching, he doesn't want to be more bothered to smell puke throughout the ride.

What gives him another chill is that the guy eventually removes the pointing gun right at my head, but it started to move down my shoes. He starts to move uncomfortably as the tip of the gun starts moving its way, up and up, until it was pointed right into his manhood. He attempts moving away but he manages to catch his neck once again, gripping it tighter than before. He started gasping for air as he could smell the foul rotten smell of the guy's breath. He could hear them chuckling as if what's happening in entertainment.

"How about you remove his pj's so we could see how big his c*ck is!" The guy from the front said, making them laugh even more, in a very chilling way.

"If that's big, maybe we can suck it all!" The other guy beside him said, making him roll his eyes in disgust. He was lucky he had a cover in his face, or he would have received a punch by doing it.

And he couldn't do anything farther than that. He cannot defend himself. The other guy tried tearing off his pajama into two but he manages to move enough for them to get pissed.

"That's enough, will you!? Boss said to not do something stupid to the kid!." The guy who's driving said in a Domineering voice that made them stop and let go of him. He sighed in relief for someone defended him.

"Urgh! How I want to hear you moan." The guys whispered, making him shiver.

"Ew, you're hitting to men now, Lucas?"

"Shut up, Mike! I just wanna tease this little gay—"

"I said stop it, Lucas! Can you not control your lechery for a second? We are almost there. Knock it off." The driver guy said and he backed away. He pushes him as he stops gripping his neck. He started gasping for air as he massages his neck to ease the pain from the guy's hand. He felt a  bit of hope that someone is just concern to stop them from almost assaulting him. But he shouldn't celebrate yet.

The car suddenly took a hard turn to the right as he almost unbalances himself. The ride is silent and he still doesn't know where this goes. The guy soon started talking again with a language he cannot determine. He's not a multi-language man, nor interested in learning another language. He's not interested in a lot of things.

His sweat didn't stop from dripping and right at that very moment, he could remember his mother and Carlo who he had fought with that exact night.

What happened? Where's mom? Where's Carlo? What is happening!?

After that turn, he could feel a stop after a meter or two. Maybe this is the destination.

His destination.

He could hear the door opening, as the guys beside him start moving. His knees start to tremble and getting weak by the second as he feels shockingly felt a grip both on my arms, as they tackle him up on my feet.

"Move!" A deep man's voice demanded, making his heart race faster and faster. The smell of metallic blood in the cloth is almost gonna make him puke, as his feet move on its ways, dragging him inside to a place he can describe as darkness. Miguel could hear the heavy steps beside him. Does this feel like horror movies where you feel frightened because of the steps you hear? Or like the action movies where you were captivated and you do not know why.

That is the problem. He doesn't know why he's there in that position and why do they need to only catch him and not his mother.

Maybe they're dead.

"Get in." The guy dragging him with such demand. He turns his gaze on him with such irritation. "What!?" He asks angrily, even if he didn't manage to see his reaction.

"Hmmmpdhdjsnsmsm.," he said making the guy realize what he's into. The guy removes the gag from his mouth as he asks the same question. "Now what!?"

"You're telling me to get in where in the first place, I cannot see anything-" he wasn't able to continue when he could feel a heavy hand landed right across my face.

It is heavy, hairy, and painful.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that you b*tch!" He shouted right at his face as he could feel his saliva showering right in his face. Lucky enough he has covered in his face enough to cover from the guy's saliva.

Ew! This is gross.

"Now. GET. IN." He once again, couldn't do anything... Not until he makes a plan to escape.

"Ahhh!" He shouted as the guy pushed him hard, hardly landed on the cold tiled floor. He could feel the floor wet as well, as he could smell the combination of the foul smell of urine together with the metallic blood smell on the cloth. He could feel wet dirt, a bit sticky in his hands as well. His tummy starts to roll upside down as he couldn't take it anymore.

He crawls as he uses his sense of touch, crawling himself into the cold water he knew it was contaminated. He starts panicking as he couldn't hold it much longer, deciding to let it all out of his system. He sounded like a three-year-old baby who had her first time traveling, puking all his guts out. He could already determine the lingering smell of what he ate.

"That b*tch is gross!" The guys laugh at him. He didn't seem to care of what he just said for what only bothers him now is

How will I escape in this sh*t?

"Come here..." The guy approached him, pulling him back on his feet, dragging him once more but this time, the cloth in his face was completely removed. He tried fighting back by punching his arms but he's too strong to even let go. He might have not felt the impact of his first at all.

"Trying to hit me ya b*tch!?" He yells as he pushes him back on the floor. He stared at him the guy's face for a long time— a scar from his left eye, a disgusting beard he knew the guy didn't shave for almost a month, and a dark lip that might've caused of smoking. He knew the guy smoke because he reeks of alcohol and cigarette.

He manages to look around, now realizing they are in a dirty bathroom. Really, dirty. The floor is wet with yellowish or golden brown water, imagining the combination of urine, and he sh*ts that he can doubt it is water anymore. It is indeed contaminated. All of the cubicles are surrounded by mud, and all of the mirrors are smashed. He felt the urge of vomiting again, probably worst than just smelling it.

He looked around as he tried to find the area where he vomited, realizing he puked at the very center of the CR. The smell is so disgusting and it kills him, fighting against his will to puke again.

"So are you gonna stare at your sh*t or what!?" Miguel turns to the guy as he irritatingly pulls him up again, not minding him soaking wet. They continue walking as he keeps on talking with the dead air.

How will I escape? Will there be help? What plan should I make? When will I escape? Mom, what happened?

Please, help me.