Hiraeth

Chapter One

“What if all ships and aircraft with people on board survive and are now living on the other side?”

They all burst into laughter. Some members cover their mouths to stifle their laughter. Some are on the verge of collapsing. Most are taking videos of me. I’m sure as hell they’ll upload it on the internet, so those who are unemployed judges, scientists, or psychiatrists will make fun of me. I know it because that’s what they’ve done to my mother. I won’t be surprised if they’ll lock me in a mental asylum.

My mother has experienced it all. She has searched my father in the Bermuda Triangle for so long but always has the same result. Not found. She only stopped searching after countless times of failing when people locked her into a mental institution.

My mother is known as the obsessed psycho. She has a collection of journals, documentaries, and stuff related to Bermuda. She has traveled around the world to swim at sea in hopes of finding my father while I’m left alone. That’s why my mother becomes an instant celebrity. People say, “How come a mother left her ten years old daughter to search for someone who’s been long gone?”

However, I don’t know why people are upset about it. I am okay with whatever my mother has been doing that time. I also want to find my father and travel around that world because he might be somewhere, waiting for my mother and me.

Still, those people never listened to me and insisted on locking up my mother in an asylum. So, I am left alone for years. It’s so upsetting. I let them decide how will my mother and I live our lives. Now, I don’t want to stay still anymore. I believe my father is still alive, and he’s now on the other side, another world. He’s waiting for me. I need to find him. Soon these people will bow down and kiss my ass if I find concrete evidence that there’s another world. Father will be the perfect one if I can bring him back. I’m hitting two birds in one stone here.

“What the f*ck, Ris!” Emilda yells. She’s our secretary of The Conspiracy Theories Scantology Organization. I join this organization because I want to collect more information about Bermuda, but it seems like I won’t get anything here. I may leave.

“The ocean is more than capable of making people, and even large objects vanish entirely. There’s no portal. There’s no other side. Just natural phenomena,” Emilda continues, still flashing her mocking smile. Don’t be like your insa—”

“Say it,” I cut off her sentence and dead-ass glare at her. “And I will punch you. For real.”

“Crazy,” she mumbles under her breath. I still hear it anyway.

I take a deep sigh. I must control myself, and there’s no point arguing. I must spend time on more important things, like revisiting my mother. I’ll see if she’ll go with me this time.

Staying at that mental asylum has taken a toll on her. She’s fine until they put her there. She won’t talk to me now. She’ll always look at nothing in particular, but mainly at the pirate ship I’ve gifted her. In the past, she’d ask me to buy her ocean-related stuff. Most of the time, it’s an ocean painting. But now, it’s the pirate’s ship. I never have an idea why she becomes interested in that stuff. It’s so sudden. And if my mother did talk, she’d tell me I need to go somewhere and that I’m running out of time. The gates will close again if I don’t go now. Yet, she won’t tell me where exactly I must go. I think she wants me to leave and go home because the mental asylum gate will close. I’m lost again in my thoughts that I haven’t heard anything until someone calls my attention.

“Sit now!” someone from the organization yelled at me. I don’t know her name, but I know her face. “Your theory is trash! We are conspiracy theorists but keep in mind that we still want unique and believable theories. Not the one you’re claiming. Gosh!”

I rolled my eyes. I’m still at their front, standing. It’s our weekly meeting, and we need to share our conspiracies. That’s how this organization works. It’s to feed our curious minds. They buy conspiracies about almost everything, no matter how ridiculous it is, but if the scheme comes from me, they’ll say I’m obsessed. Duh! We’re all here because we’re all obsessed freaks! I’m too exhausted to argue, so I’ve just settled down. Another member stands up in front and starts sharing her theories. I block everyone’s voices and let my mind wander again at my mother. I’ll revisit her today. My gift, another miniature pirate ship made of wood, is now inside my bag. I’m excited but partly afraid of what I will see. Will my mother talk to me? Not about me going somewhere and gates closing. Talk like catching up with each other. I also want to tell her what I want to share this day, but it is left unheard.

I only hear the last sentence the member says after she sits down. I don’t have any idea what’s her theory. I’m not even curious.

I gather all my things; pens and a worn-out two-hundred pages notebook. The cover page’s color is fading, and it has some torn pages in it. This notebook has been with me for so long, and I lost count of how many years it has been since I’ve bought it. I wrote a lot of ideas here, and it’s from my father, that’s why I won’t replace it.

I never say goodbyes to my superiors. I won’t come back here anyway. Not until I find evidence about my claims.

My mind is lost again. I only come back to my senses when my phone rings. It’s my friend, Wade. We’ve been friends since our days in diapers.

“Hey!” I gush, forcing myself to this false enthusiasm. If he’s here, there’ll be another session of a long lecture about the harms of pretending. He always knows if I’m faking or not and tells me to act what I feel.

Wade doesn’t respond. I am waiting for him. But I’m running out of patience, and I can tell something’s wrong with him. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other. We’re both busy. We barely have time to catch up.

Let’s scream,” I say before I drop the call and enter the taxi that parks right in front of me.

Wade knows what I mean and where we will meet. It’s our phrase to let each other knows we understand and we will be with each other through our ups and downs. We’ll go screaming all our problems tonight. Scream. Curse everyone. It’ll help us feel better for a while.

I laugh at my thoughts.

It’s only for a while. The problems will come back again after that, rushing and taunting us that they won’t leave no matter how loud we scream. They will stay in the small spaces of our minds. Soon they’ll expand, and screaming won’t be much of a help. But at least we feel better, even if it’s just for a while, right?

After paying the driver, I get off the car—my wild, curly hair dances along with the wind. I shoved my hair back away from my face because it blocked my view. I hug myself as the cold, gentle breeze touches my skin. The salty smell lingers in my nose. It’s a sensation I have always wanted to feel. The beach is one of the good things that remain in this polluted, problematic world.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

And five.

I count the people who are here. One couple is in the farthest area. Though I can see what’s, they’re doing. Kissing. A grimace flashes on my face. It’s awkward to watch two people kissing in person. I only watch stuff like this in movies. It’s scripted, unlike this one.

Number three is a drunkard. He’s holding a bottle of ram in his limp hands. He’s swaying as he walks towards number four. The woman looks upset.

I avert my gaze, and here’s number five. He’s already here. How fast.

A silly thought enters my mind, making me grin. I want to surprise him, but this guy knows my presence. He looks over his shoulder and waves at me. I wave back and drop it as soon as his face becomes clear to me.

“Tough day, huh?” I ask as I sit beside him on a piece of cloth placed on the white sand. I study his face. The once soft, creamy complexion is now full of bruises and scars.

He looks down. You’re creeping me out. You almost look like you’re ready to murder someone.”

“No,” I answer. “But f*ck him!” I cursed as I untied my shoelace. My fists are trembling, and untying seems so hard. Let alone my hair still blocking my face. It’s past five o’clock, and the wind is now blowing hard.

“Last one to reach the buoys pays our dinner,” I c**k my head and watch him struggle to untie his shoelaces.

“Fair game,” he says while untying the last one. Let’s run when I said go—f*ck!”

I run, cackling, completely ignoring his curses.

“You said go!” I shout in between my laughter. He’s calling out my name, but I don’t turn back. I know he’s close.

“I wasn’t ready!” He shouts. I only answer with a laugh.

I stop laughing when he catches up with me. He pushes me playfully and then dashes down the shore. I almost stumble. Good thing I quickly bounce back and keep up with his speed once he slows down.

The water splash as we both jump into it. My jeans are now wet, and the waves, big ones, make it hard for us to run on the sea. So, I swim instead. Wade also.

My smile does not leave my face. I almost forget all my worries. Almost. Because as I lift off my face from the water to catch my breath, it all comes back to me.

What the f**k is wrong with them? When I’m enjoying, they’ll be like, “This girl seems to forget us. Let’s remind her we’re still here,” and so I stop in the middle of doing something I enjoy to accommodate them.

“Aha!”

Thanks to Wade, I come back to the present. He’s now grinning just beside the buoys. He won again—all the time.

My body glides through the water again, creating tiny ripples along the surface. I swam thoroughly throughout the greenish water to join him on the boys.

“I let you win,” I say as I get back on the surface.

“Again?” He mocks, and I only answer him with a nod, letting the sound of waves going back and forth take over the noises from our mouths.

We both look at the horizon in front of us. The sun is hovering just below the horizon, turning the sky a deep, bloody red. My smile fades as I find my hands outstretched towards the horizon. I imagine myself being able to touch the scarlet sky. A weird sensation trickles me.

I don’t know what I’ll see when I reach the end of the horizon. Or is there an end? If there is, I want to go there. To escape from the unfolding chaos in the world, I’m in. Maybe in there, it’s like a home that I can recharge for the other hell-ish tomorrow when my social battery at the end of the day get drained and where I can unmask and can do whatever the hell I want to do and let the rest of the world go f*ck themselves.

Impossible.

“How I wish we could just run away,” Wade breaks the silence.

“I would love to,” I answer, my gaze still fixed at the sun setting. I can’t dare to look at his face again, and the bruises remind me of the cruelty of this world. And there’s no escape. We’re stuck here. Every day it’s the survival of the fittest. “But we can’t. We don’t have a choice but to fight.”

“Dying might be an escape.”That’s it. I look at him. We never talk about these things. Yes, we always want to escape because who will not? But not like this one. He speaks as if he’s so desperate.

Don’t you dare talk about it again!” I glare, hold his shoulders so I can speak to him face to face. “No matter how life f**k as hard, we won’t consider that idea! Never!”

He flashes a faint smile and looks away.

My poor friend. He’s so precious in this world.

“F*ck everyone!” I scream. “You can be yourself! Who the f**k cares if you like man or woman? Don’t listen to them! Don’t! They’ll be tired, and then they’ll leave you on your own. Don’t give up just yet.”

“I never said I’m giving up,” he answered. I’m just wondering if death will be like, you know, going home.”

And here he’s thought why we became friends for so long. He says sit’s weird. Duh! We’re friends because we’re entirely the same. We are longing to go home. But where exactly is our home, though?

“Satan will kick you out,” I joke. I’m trying to calm myself now to drive all my anxieties away.

He laughs. This time, I can tell it’s a genuine one. Let’s go. You’ll be paying for our dinner tonight, right?”

“F*ck, yes! I’m rich, duh!” I say and flip my hair.

We swim again towards the shore. We’re both wet now. However, it’s not a problem because Wade owns a car. This will be the cleaner’s problem, not ours. I’m about to wear my shoes, but my phone rings again. Anxiety crawls back to me when I find out who called me.

“Yes, hello?” My voice cracks. I saw Wade on my periphery. He c***s his head to take a look at me.

I gulp.

The other line is noisy. Someone is throwing things, and there’s a lot of screaming. But my mother’s screams are the only screams I recognize. She’s calling my name. I can already imagine her face. Pale and puckered skin. Big, dark eyes. Clenching teeth. I’m afraid.

“Ma’am, your mother,” —another blag! on the other line— “Is looking for you!”