Where Your Secrets Hide

SECRET 11

The Wind is howling while the birds are tweeting. The sound of the cars from my neighbors and the sound of an argument from them too.

That is what I am hearing every day when I am waking up.

But still, I felt the peace within the argument from my neighbors. I mean, come on, this is a neighborhood, or a town. This is normal. And I felt nostalgia actually for some kind of reason.

I remember when I was a kid, when we're still a complete family. The arguments are not from my neighbors, but it comes from inside of our house. Yah, mom and dad are always fighting that time, I was 5 at that moment.

We lived in California before, the same town where my uncles who is supporting me, lives. But now, I am here, alone, living my shitty life inside a town in Sydney.

A life I wanted but don't at the same time.

I mean, who wants a life where you are running away from your sins?? Who is trying to get away from murder...

My alarm went crazy again so I kill it, like how I slap Chase head on the car.

Fuck! What am I thinking!

"Ugh!" I groan and opened eyes to start a new day.

My body still hurts, especially my butt. I have bruises on my arm and my back. I may not see it, but I can feel it. And it hurts like Hell. I look to my alarm and it's already 9 in the morning.

I check my phone when it vibrated. My uncle is calling me.

"Hello Uncle?" I answered his call. "Where are you Jackson? We are already here in your town for almost an hour and you didn't reply to my messages and not answering my calls!"

Holy mother s**t.

I f*****g forgot that they are coming here today!

My mind forges about it. But that's not my whole f*****g problem.

It's Chase f*****g body!

His body is still in my cabinet!

What the f*****g hell am I going to do about that??

The Visitor

"Hi Uncle!" I greeted them when they went inside my house. They all smiled to me. I welcome them to my home and let them explore my house a little bit. "Ugh, the smell is horrible." My cousin said, Reynaldo. "Yeah right? Get used to it. Behind my house is a forest and a lot of unpleasant smell comes from there." I said. It is the truth, but the reason why the smell is very horrible today, is because of the dead body inside my house. "By the way, guys. This cabinet is locked. I never opened it before, the old home owner said that they lost the key from this room so yeah, it is off limit I guess." I lied. That cabinet is where Chase body is. Where I am hiding his corpse.

But base on their reaction, they actually believe me.

I know that my family are easily to get manipulated, especially my mother. My dad? If you are asking about him, he is the one who always manipulative, that's why he can cheat to my mother whenever, whereever he wants, because mom is always believing what my dad says.

And I guess genes are flowing around my blood. I am easily to get manipulated, but I am manipulative also.

I've been asking myself if, how many people can I manipulate, how many lies can I say just to get away from my murder?

This is bullshit.

I don't want to have a life like this, but... I believe that everything is for a reason.

"Did you guys already ate?" I ask them. "Yes. While we are waiting for you to call us back, we had no choice but to eat our breakfast in the restaurant here." My auntie said, Brenda.

Brenda Bernacio is the name of my Auntie, she is the sister of my mother. While Gerald is the name of my uncle, and they have three child, my cousins. Joseph, Cindy, and of course their oldest dumb brother, Reynaldo.

I mean, Reynaldo is not that dumb, but I am just calling him that, I mean, we are close. Me and Reynaldo have the same age, we're both 17. So we're pretty much close. Joseph is 15 the middle and Cindy is the youngest, 6.

They don't really planned Cindy.

"So do you want any foods? Do you want guys to watch a TV?" I asks them and my uncle laugh and Reynaldo. "Jackson, you don't have to be nervous. It's only been like 2 years since we didn't see each other. Nothing changed, right?" My uncle said and he tap my shoulder.

Well, beside me being nervous because I don't know how to act with them, I am nervous too because there is a body inside my house.

"What happened to your arms Jackson?" Joseph ask and he touches my arm. "Oh this? It's nothing." I said. "Henry just throw the ball at me and I didn't catch it." I lied, It was the bruises from yesterday. The bruises that I got when they raped me.

But why am I protecting them? They raped me, it is a crime, but a single word cant get out of my mouth. I wanted to tell the truth, but it is stopping me. I don't know why, but I guess because I am scared, not scared of what will be the reaction of the other people, but scared that even I tell them what they did to me, there's gonna be no justice for me. Because for them, the only crime they accept is a raped case of girls not boys.

They think that raping a man is not a crime, that when man was raped, they are gay. Or when a gay was raped, they are overreacting. I mean, come one, how many raped case for men are their that has been reported?

See?

Man are scared to tell the truth, because no one is going to listen to them, to us.

That is why, they chose to hide the truth from others, they tend to keep it as a secret, because no matter how strong the words they are going to say, it didn't mean to them.

The world is unfair, admit it or not, the world is unfair. But that is life, that is world. Because, if everything is in fair, then the purpose of our life will be nothing.

No matter how we change the world, it won't change, because the world is not the one who needs change, us, human, people are the one who needs change.

We are the one who is living in this world, we are the one who is controlling the world, not the world is controlling the people.

So yeah, if you want to change the world, change yourself.

"Next time, catch the ball. That what's make us man." Uncle said and he taps my shoulder.

Nah, I believe that what makes us a man is that we don't care about showing our real feeling to others... We're not afraid of what people will think about us.