Echoes of Fall's Farewell

Chapter 2: I Was Dead

Chapter 2

I Was Dead

I screamed at the top of my lungs and called for my Mama, but the intruder's calloused palm silenced me. He stood behind me, pressing his erect member against my thin clothing. My hair stood on end as my fingers trembled.

"Seems like you're more deserving of a thousand dollars than Astrid," he whispered, brushing his lips against my neck.

"Hmmm... M-Ma... Hmmmp..." his hand over my mouth stifled my pleas.

The man reeked of cigarettes and beer. I grabbed his arm and tried to push him away, but he effortlessly lifted me and laid me down.

"Mama! Help, please! Mama!" I seized the opportunity to call out. "Mama!" Until he forcefully threw me onto the bed and struck my face so hard that I nearly lost consciousness. I suddenly felt numb... and exhausted. "M-Mama..."

Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I was paralyzed on the bed, unable to move as I watched him remove his shirt. I covered my face and sobbed when he began to unbuckle his belt. Within seconds, he stood before me, half-naked. An evil smirk adorned his face as he ran his fingers through his hair. He licked his lips like a hungry lion, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on his prey.

"N-No... Please, please don't... Have mercy... Please..."

"Hmm?"

He lifted one leg and was about to crawl towards me when we heard the sound of the door opening. It creaked slowly, as if there was no urgency at all. It was as if Heaven had witnessed my tears and heard my silent cries for help. When I saw my Mama's face, I was filled with confidence that she would rescue me from my predator.

"Is that gonna take way longer?" she asked, sounding bored.

My weak hands dropped to my sides.

"Oh, you're too impatient. It hasn't even been thirty minutes yet!"

"That kid is making too much noise. I can't sleep."

The devil laughed heartily. "Don't worry, honey. We'll make it quiet soon. It'll settle down." He grinned and grabbed my hand, giving it a kiss on the back and running his tongue across my palm. "Just behave, okay?""I'm bumping up the price for that, anyhow. Two thousand for half an hour."

The guy frowned and stepped back from the bed. "Two thousand upfront? You're out of line! That's not what we agreed on!"

"You're being picky? No one else has touched it yet! I can't price it too low."

"It's too pricey! You should've mentioned it before! You know I only budgeted a thousand!"

Mama crossed her arms. "Alright, fifteen minutes then."

"Nah, never mind. I don't want to be left hanging. We'll do it next time," the man said as he started picking up his scattered clothes.

I stared at my mother with tears streaming down my face. I felt a deep sense of disappointment. She had already shown me her moral bankruptcy, but I never thought she would go this far. Sure, she'd insult me, humiliate me in front of others, and subject me to physical and mental abuse. But I never thought she'd entertain the idea of using me for low-level business deals. Was I really that worthless to her?

I was only sixteen years old at that time, but I was not ignorant of the fact that my mother, with her pale skin and curvaceous body, was selling her dignity every night to random men to earn money - not for our livelihood, but for her vices. I never benefited from those earnings, nor did I want to, but Mama wasn't the type to make an effort to put food on our table. She would rather buy a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of beer than provide me with something to eat.

But I always held onto hope. I clung to the belief that she was simply mentally ill and that she would eventually recover. I trusted that she would heal. And once she did, many children would envy me for having a mother like her.

"Hurry up, go get a kilogram of rice from Lucia. We have guests coming this afternoon," Mama said as she sat on the sofa, counting the crumpled bills in her hands.

I muttered a quick response, "Okay..." and turned to leave, but my curiosity got the best of me. I swept my eyes across the kitchen, spotting plastic grocery bags strewn about and four hefty boxes tucked under the table. Two of the smaller ones had already been cracked open. My heart raced as I darted toward the fridge, swinging it open with haste, and what met my gaze left me flabbergasted. It was like an avalanche of frozen meats, processed goodies, a good half-dozen eggs, cartons of fresh milk, and a motley assortment of alcoholic beverages!

Where did all of these come from?

I closed the refrigerator door and turned to look at Mama, her forehead creased with deep lines. I caught her in the act of kissing and fondling the wads of money.

"W-Where... did you get these?" I stammered.

Mama pivoted, her grin so wide you'd think she'd just won the jackpot. "These?" She fanned the cash like she was shuffling cards. A chuckle slipped past her lips. "Oh, these are courtesy of the Archulettas!"

"Archulettas?"

"Yeah, that couple at the gambling joint. They had more questions than a nosy neighbor, I swear! They showed me a picture of some kid they wanted to adopt, then they asked if I know her. Well, I was at the right place at the right time, and Pising gave me a nudge. I saw a chance! I spun 'em a yarn! Told 'em I knew that kid like the back of my hand, an abandoned soul, I said! And just like that, they bit the hook. But, you know," she shrugged, "nothing's free these days. I told 'em I'd spill the beans on the kid's place for a little something in return. Bam!" She burst into raucous laughter, waving the dough around like it was a winning lottery ticket. "Instant 100 thousand!" she sang out with a mischievous glint in her eye.

My chest tightened, and though her smile should have warmed my heart, it felt like a distant memory, an infrequent occurrence. I tried my best to summon a smile, my lips straining to turn upwards as a sudden thought gripped me.

"Is that so?" My voice came out raspy. "But where is the child now? Have you already told them where she is?"

She responded with a sarcastic eye roll and rose from the sofa, clutching the money as she headed toward the kitchen, where she'd stashed the groceries she'd bought.

"Clean yourself up properly. I got a dress for you to wear when they come over. You've gotta look presentable."

My lips parted, and tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill.

Before she could catch a glimpse of my emotions, I dashed upstairs and made a beeline for my room. Throwing myself onto the bed, I buried my face in the pillow, allowing it to muffle my sobs. My chest constricted, and my eyes seemed determined to pour out warm, painful tears. I spent an entire hour pouring my heart out beneath the covers.

I contemplated reaching out to Aerin, seeking comfort from a friend, but the idea was swiftly discarded. I couldn't risk Rhett's brother, Kuya Jethro, discovering the truth. The last time he caught my mother laying hands on me, he'd threatened to involve the authorities. He'd been warning her for years, and if only I hadn't stopped him from doing so. I couldn't bear to see her locked up because of me.

An hour and a half later, I dried my face. She'd bought me a dress, the first time she'd ever done that, huh?

I was convinced that I was the very abandoned child she was talking about. Even though I still called her house my home, she treated me like an outcast, someone she could easily sell for a measly 100,000 pesos. Was I nothing more than a pawn in her twisted game?

"Sorry, Papa..."

I marched to my built-in cabinet, grabbing my duffle bag. Carefully, I stowed away my precious possessions, including the necklace Papa had given me. I hadn't worn it in ages because Mama had been eager to sell it off. I'd told her I'd lost it, but in truth, I'd hidden it in the darkest corner of my cabinet.

By the time I sneaked out, it was well past 1 in the afternoon. I left my phone behind, determined not to give anyone the chance to track me down.

I didn't want to involve my friends either. They'd already done so much for me, and I couldn't bear to drag them into this mess. It was better if they remained blissfully ignorant.

The coins in my pocket jingled faintly. If my calculations were correct, I had a meager 200 pesos left in my savings. I'd been hoarding that money for a year, and there could have been more if Mama hadn't dipped into my piggy bank.

"Out of the way!" someone shouted, shoving me aside. "This stinking mess is blocking the whole path!"

"S-Sorry, sir..."

I found myself standing in front of a bustling public market. Like me, there were other children on the streets, some scavenging through garbage, their faces etched with familiarity. My gaze landed on an elderly man not too far away. He sported dark sunglasses, cradled a guitar, and sang as people strolled by. Some ignored him, but most paused to drop coins into the can by his side.

Tears welled up in my eyes. What was I supposed to do now? Should I become a beggar too?

"Hey! Those are my things!" a woman in a flowing dress screamed. "Come back here! Give them back!" I quickly sidestepped as I noticed a gang of kids rushing toward me, clutching pieces of bread, their grins wide and mischievous. "Hey, that's my bread! Give it back! Thieves! Somebody help!"

"Oh, dear..."

"Catch!" A young boy laughed and tossed a piece of bread my way.

Startled, I managed to snatch it out of the air. His friends followed suit, hurling their own bread toward me.

"What - " I began to ask, but I was abruptly cut off.

"Quick! Run!"

A sharp whistle blew from nearby, and I turned to see uniformed police officers staring at me with accusatory eyes. My heart raced in my chest, and I glanced down at the bread I held in my trembling hands.

"Thief! Catch them!"

They began to approach, driven by a sense of urgency. Fear surged through me, and in a reflexive motion, I flung the bread aside and sprinted away. My chest ached, especially as another officer blew their whistle.

"Hey! Come back here!"

Without a moment's hesitation, I sprinted as if my life depended on it, apologizing to anyone I accidentally collided with along the way. Anxiety tremors coursed through my shoulders, making them quiver uncontrollably. I clenched my teeth, vehemently denying any notion of being a thief. I couldn't bring myself to stoop that low.

"Cut them off! Don't let them escape! Thieves!"

I pushed myself to run even faster, ignoring the toll it was taking on my body. It wasn't that I was afraid of the consequences of getting caught; my greatest fear was that my mother would find out about this. I couldn't bear the thought of her witnessing my actions.

The traffic light blinked green. I was fully aware of its significance, but I chose to pretend otherwise. Ignoring the relentless whistles of the officers, I darted across the street, acutely aware of their shouts. It was only the blaring horn of a car that brought me to a sudden halt... a deafening, blaring horn.

"Oh, dear God."

My eyes locked onto the approaching white van. My heart raced within my chest, eyes wide as it hurtled toward me, on a collision course.

With a surge of adrenaline, I squeezed my eyes shut and joined the chorus of screams surrounding me. Before the van could reach me, I collapsed onto the chilly pavement. The cacophony of the horn, whistles, and screams merged into a deafening symphony, nearly overwhelming my senses.

Fear washed over me, making me hesitant to open my eyes.

I braced myself for the impact - for the wheels to crush my body. Tightening my eyelids even further, I gradually accepted what seemed inevitable. I waited... but the expected catastrophe never came.

"OMG, seriously! Can't you hit the brakes properly? She could have been killed!" a female voice erupted in hysteria.

Almost.

Death had come dangerously close to claiming me.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. I may not have perished physically, but something inside me felt like it had faded away, leaving a hollow void in its wake.