The Scars

Chapter 3

This bulky tattooed man in a dark t-shirt and rebel jeans, no better than the rest, one of my father’s acquaintances intervened the thugs ‘effort to jeopardize me yet his presence with his raven eyes locking mine shuddered me in more fear and horror. With his influence and popularity among the criminals in the slum area, those thugs who blocked my way were easily submitted under this wide-faced man's knees; they escaped because of their fear of him.

"Long time no see, sweety. I didn't expect you have grown up so fast." His mischievous eyes sized me from top to toe as if having the desire to devour my whole; an intimidating smirk on his lips towed me to the brink of dread.

His feet stepped on the butt harshly he threw it on the ground causing the object to depleted into the soil. It was just a matter of time for that thug to threaten my life like what he did to that butt on the earth.

At a slow pace and with lust reflected through his eyes, he took some steps forward, trying to reach out to me who at the same time took some steps back, avoiding him. This scene reminded me of what I had been through in the shed where I was kidn*pped and trapped by the rascal men to whom my father owed a lot of money.

And my father, instead of saving my dignity, he let them did whatever to me as a bail of his debt. “With this, I no longer owe you anything,” said my father before he spun around and left me with those evil scoundrels in tears and yell for his help and care under the downpour that soaked my body

Inside the tiny dark bamboo-walled and earthy-floored room in the rainy night, those people nearly harmed and humiliated me; none caught my screams and wails but the broken legged table and plastic chairs that witnessed my anguish. Luck stood on my side when out of nowhere, an unfamiliar man in a black hoodie broke the frangible door and stormed into the room where I was wriggling and struggling to let go myself off their hands. In spontaneous action, he struck them mercilessly; his fists and blows landed and imprinted bruises on their jaws, faces, chests and tummies that they ended up on the ground with no time for retaliation.

The rush and harsh stomps ahead me pulled me out of my reverie; that man was only a few feet from me now. Before his feet brought him closer to me, someone's shoutout deterred that tattooed man; he and I turned to the tall man in a Batik shirt who was in his hurry coming to us.

"Uncle…" My mouth opened unconsciously at his unexpected appearance. With a smile of relief, I greeted my uncle after that thug abandoned me without further thought upon my uncle’s arrival.

“What did he do to you?” My shaking head responded to his query and his panic faded away from his visage knowing that I was in good condition.

“What brings you here, uncle? I mean it is just unusual that you walk around this slum area.”

“Yeah…I intend to visit you and your mother. I know you might be wondering why because it’s been a long time since the last time, I met you. I had an urgency to talk to your mother.” There were no more comments I added to his words; as my mother’s big brother as well as my uncle, he had helped us a lot in terms of finance, sending me to school and assisting with our monthly need sometimes behind his wife’s back.

In struggle, our feet passed through the muddy gravel cramped trod heading to my tiny wooden leaked-roof house among other small occupancies in the slum area. The shabby faces of the unfortunate children were the views we could see along the way besides the heaps of garbage as the source of the people’s income and the flies wreathing the leftovers at filthy spots.

The door opened and my mother emerged at the doorway as soon as my knocks hit the entrance; a hint of surprise smudged her face finding my uncle with me. In wonder and hesitance, she allowed us to enter the messy dirty room and let my uncle to have a seat in the only chair we owned while my mother herself sat on the floor after serving a cup of coffee to him.

“Have a drink. It may quench your thirst." In several gulps, the cup in his hand emptied in a minute. "Where did you park your car?" My mother asked as soon as not spotting the car anywhere near our shed.

"I came here by public transportation."

In sour face, my mother looked at her brother with her squinting eyes. "I am wondering what brings you here this time. It has been a long time since the last time you visited our house. You must have something urgent to talk to me." As if having super power to read people's mind, my mother could predict what my uncle's intention was.

In uneasiness, my uncle cleared his throat at my mother's quip. "There is something I need to discuss with you regarding Ilana. I do apologize for I am no longer able to support her education. You know life is getting hard for us these days. We have an issue with our business."

My mother who seemed pondering his confession didn't have a say yet as a response, her expression changed and discomfort smeared her visage.

I myself pulled my chin to my chest; it was mix feeling I had in my mind now. Without his support, I could not pursue higher education; studying in college had been my dream, however forcing him to send me to University was not wise.

My uncle himself had one son and two daughters whose life relied on him as their father, beside his wife's lifestyle of always wearing branded cloth was something he had to support on, too.

"It must be because your wife has found out that you secretly gave us financial support. That woman…,"

My immediate intteruption startled my mother. "Mom…don't blame aunty. Besides, I don't plan to study in university."

"Did I teach you to be rude, Ilana? Since when you have audacity to intrude someone's talk?"

"I am sorry, Mom. I don't mean to interven you. I just don't want you to think bad about aunty."

"Ilana…I'm sorry." Beyond my expectation, my uncle muttered his apology, the word I didn't deserve from him; his sacrifice of paying for my school fee behind his wife's back worthed my gratitude instead.

"No…uncle…don't say that. I owe you many things. I should thank you for all your kindness." He was about to open his mouth in a response to my words yet my mother distracted him with a question about her daughter.

"How is your youngest daughter?"

"She's good. She has been admitted to study in one of the international junior high schools."

His youngest daughter was the smartest one among all his children. His second child studied at the same school as mine and our relationship as cousins was not that good at school; with her wealth, she befriended with rich students while I, as a poor girl, often got bullied by her and her gang.

"Congratulations, anyway." My mother's congratulating on my uncle's daughter yanked me back to my senses. "If you have no more to say, you better go home as I still have something to do."

"Mom…," I, in an instance, interrupted her. "Uncle just sat in his seat."

"It's ok, Ilana. I'll come back in another time." He stood to his feet and bid goodbye; I followed him to accompany him to get out of the slum area.

"Uncle, I'm sorry for the way my mother treated you."

In a small smile of friendliness, he replied," No, you don't have to say sorry for that. Ilana…," he fished out something out of his pants pocket, "here's for you." In my shaking head, I rejected the envelope on his palm; in no time, the money in the envelope moved on my palm as he didn't accept my refusal.

"Thanks, uncle." I stammered my gratitude.

"Please, make sure your father won't find it out." His words sounded like a disaster would come and destroy me if my father discovered this envelope in my hand; I hurriedly slipped inside my pocket after scanning around and ensuring that no one caught us.

This money could either help me or kill me.