Trigger King

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

I was a puppet at the Castellanos show as I let Viktor Ricaforte use my hand to pleasure himself. And I caught my father's triumphant smile and in his mind, I was aiming for excellence because I was doing what he exactly wanted me to do. And that is to be used by Viktor, for the family. I dug those words into my mind.

The engagement party ended without any problems. Gustave was so happy because I was doing something for the family. My dear mother...she looked so pained. But I smiled at Mama because I didn't want her to be burdened.

Agad akong dumiretso sa aking art room na nakakonekta sa aking kwarto. This was a gift from my father. It was my prized possession on my eighteenth birthday.

Hinayaan niya akong magkaroon ng art room sa isang kondisyon at 'yon ay ang hindi ko pag-pursue ng college. No more art degrees. Stupid, Cherry, what will you do in college? those were his biting words when I asked him that I would like to make a living in painting.

His eyes challenged me. My mother, at my side at that time, shook her head. Her eyes were begging me again not to say what I wanted to say to Papa: I deserve a career and I'm not just a mere puppet.

I am a woman, to begin with. As I grew older in the Castellanos family, I began to question my worth. And the worst thing is I feel less and less like a human being and not just a woman anymore.

I was painting while Mozart's songs were playing in the background. To clear my mind. My strokes in paintbrush and color combinations were mastered in years of painting. Nobody taught me how to master painting. Painting is low-class for Papa.

Even in college...just helping the family, attending social events, and for a smile at those events, my father enumerated those things to me in his studies. In other words, I just need to be a trophy, something to be looked at when there's a party, something to be lust for horny dogs like Viktor and Faustino Ricaforte. Do you understand me, Cherry? my father asked and that was the last time that we talked about studying and having a career.

With a trembling voice and weak disposition, I said: Yes, Papa. I said 'yes' to being a puppet. I said 'yes' to have no freedom.

My hand gripped the paintbrush with brute force. I just used any colors that would come to my mind: red for Papa and Gustave for their hunger for blood and money, gray for my mother's hopelessness, and black for my soulless life.

I think that was the reason why my father never stole a glance at my painting. He hated my painting because I didn't give any lavish representation of our family in my creation. It was always dark and terrifying and didn't look grand like the Colombian and Roman style of painting that he likes.

I smirked as I continued doing my craft and it was a Gothic dystopian post-apocalyptic surreal painting. The scenery is dark yellow; red-orange blood is scattered on the ground and buildings were destroyed like Pompeii. It was a wrecked place and let's just say that this place is the infamous Castellanos mansion.

Nakakatawa ang mga tao kung minsan ay bilib na bilib sila sa panlabas na anyo ng isang lugar o tao. Hindi nila alam na nasa loob ay napakawalang saysay ng buhay nito o sabihin na natin na sa loob ng isang magarbong pamamahay ay may mga demonyong halang ang kaluluwa ang mga nakatira. "Cherry," the soft voice of my mother stopped me from finishing my dark painting.

Lumapit siya sa akin at hinawakan ang aking balikat marahil ay para mabawasan ang kanyang pighati o para naman tumahimik ang kanyang konsiyensiya lalo na't wala siyang ginagawang pagkontra sa mga kababuyang pinapagawa sa akin. "Dios mio, Cherry Ann!" sigaw ng aking ina't agad niyang sinara ang pintuan ng aking art room na nakatiwangwang.

"That's Misery, Mama. Ngayon ko lang 'to ginawa't gift ko para kay Papa," simple kong sabi. Nakakatawa ang itsura ni Mama, mukha siyang aatakehin sa puso. Papa didn't like my paintings for him, my paintings were trash.

Nag-ugat iyong galit niya sa gawa ko noong sampung taong gulang ako. I gave him Castello as my gift. Castello was the name of our mansion. It's only fitting for our grand and Imeldific mansion. I gave it to Papa as my gift on his 35th birthday. The Castellanos' men were there—they were's father's men and, together with their family, they served us.

Kahit ang ibang associate ni Papa ay nandoon din kaya laking dismayado siya nang makita niya ang painting ko. Masyado iyong madilim para sa kanyang kaarawan. Pero mas may malalim pang dahilan doon kung bakit hindi niya gusto ang Castello painting ko.

It was bloody and destroyed, it was sort of a rebellion against his idea of beauty in our family. My father asked me to his study after the party, with Mama and Gustave quietly looking at us. Papa looked into my eyes first and asked: Why did you paint our mansion like that?

It was a tricky question. I have just realized it now. That's how I see this mansion, Papa. That was the first discipline that I received from Papa: he slapped me and I just confirmed at that early age that my father was a monster in a rich man's disguise.

"You shouldn't give this to him, Cherry Ann," mariing sabi ni Mama sa akin. May backbone rin naman ang akin ina lalo na kapag may ginagawa akong sumasalungat sa gusto ni Papa ay agad niya akong pinapangaralan. "It's a good painting, Mama."

She shook her head and held my hand, which made the finishing touches of Misery messed up. Kumalat ang kulay puting piring na dapat ay nakasentro lang sa mukha ni Misery. "Darling...please don't do anything that would only bring you more trouble."

Tumigil ako sa pagtapos kay Misery at hinarap si Mama. Nakasuot na siya ng kanyang kulay asul na pantulog, sa edad ni Mama na kwarenta ay maganda pa rin siya. Hindi nakakasawa tingnan ang maamo nitong mukha na parang hinango sa mukha ni Venus, isang mukhang nagawang pakasalan ni Papa.

"I'm in too deep, Mama." Nasambit ko na lang habang tinitingnan ang kanyang mga mata kapareho ng kulay sa akin. Magkamukhang kaming tatlo nila ni Gustave. At minsan ay napapaisip din ako kung bakit wala kaming nakuha kahit anong pisikal na pagkakapareho kay Papa, dugong Castellanos 'yon lang at wala ng iba.

"I know, darling. I know. I wish I could give you comfort."

Hinawakan ko ang kanyang kamay. "We could still go. I mean, Mama, we could still live our lives, away from this."

Kung dati'y natatawa siya kapag nagsasabi ako ng ganito, ngayon ay tiningnan niya lang akong mabuti. Nakaawang ang aking labi nang ibaba niya ang kanyang pantaas at sabay noon ang kanyang pagtalikod. "Don't cry, darling," Mama said while hearing my harsh intake of breath.

I respected her wish and didn't cry as she continued showing what was on her back. "Could you see these marks, Cherry Ann? These are not fighting marks...these are reminders that I didn't have any choice but to continue living this life. Every time that I would stare in the mirror and see these marks, I would tell myself that I still have you and Gustave...so this life could be bearable."

Her back was full of green and yellow marks and bruises that healed as time had gone by and I badly wanted to kiss her back to remove her dark memories. I could only imagine that my soft and lovely mother cried a lot of times as she endured those hits from my father. Para siyang nilatigo sa haba ng sugat humilom na nagsisimula sa kanyang leeg pababa sa kanyang beywang.

Tinaas ng aking ina ang kanyang damit at humarap sa akin. May malabnaw na ngiti sa kanyang labi. Marahas ko namang kinagat ang aking ibabang labi.

"Don't you dare cry for me, Cherry. Don't pity me." Tumango ako at sa unang pagkakataon ay nakitaan ko ng kakaibang lakas ang aking ina na dati'y kung tingnan ko lang ay parang isang napakahinang babae.

"I understand that you want freedom, Riri. I truly understand and if only I could give it to you without killing you in exchange, I would give it." Her voice croaked with pain.

She softly tapped my face and kissed my cheeks before she went out. I let my tears fall down as the image of my mother haunts me...bruised and tainted from the beating of my father. As tears cascaded down my face, I was able to finish Misery--the bony creature in the center of the painting.

She was blindfolded and she didn't want to see any more chaos and pain. But Misery didn't have a choice. I didn't have a choice but to choose pain and forget my freedom.