Chapter 2:
1044 Words
It was already 9:30 a.m.—dismissal time.
I was ready to leave when a teacher stopped me.
"Child, where are you going?"
"Outside... I'm going home," I answered politely.
But then she said, "You need someone to pick you up before you can leave."
I knew Mama and Papa wouldn’t come.
They never did.
So I turned around quietly and went back inside the classroom.
I sat down and waited...
10:50 a.m.
Still no sign of them.
I kept hoping.
Maybe, just maybe, they’d come this time.
Just once.
4:10 p.m.—still nothing.
No Mama.
No Papa.
I went back inside, grabbed a piece of cardboard, and lay down on the cold floor.
Sleep came quickly—maybe from hunger, maybe from sadness.
When I opened my eyes again, it was 7:30 in the evening.
The classroom was dark and empty.
I stepped outside.
The gate was left open.
So I walked home, alone.
The door of our house was slightly ajar.
I went inside quietly.
I opened the door to my parents’ room.
There they were—sleeping peacefully with Kuya beside them.
I smiled… even as my tears fell silently.
I walked to my room and lay in bed.
Sleep was the only place I was allowed to feel safe.
Every day, I stayed there.
Just in my room.
In the other day
From behind the door, I could hear them laughing—Mama, Papa, and Kuya.
I peeked through a small crack.
I saw trophies and certificates laid out proudly on the table.
Kuya had won so many awards.
Mama and Papa's eyes gleamed with pride.
There was so much food on the table.
Guests filled the house—Lola, our relatives, everyone was there.
They were celebrating Kuya’s achievements.
11:30 p.m.—the celebration had ended.
Papa was cleaning up.
I watched from the shadows, studying how he moved.
Mimicking his steps, pretending he might notice me one day.
Then came our exams.
Even though I was only in Kinder 2, I studied so hard.
I wanted them to see me too.
And I did it.
I got a perfect score.
Not just once—on every subject.
Then came the day.
The moment I had waited for.
Teacher Berry called me, her eyes glowing with pride.
“Cath? Please bring your mother on Saturday, okay? You’re the top 1 in class.”
I walked home that day carrying my exam papers, every one of them marked with a perfect score.
And with them, I carried a heart full of hope.
A reason to finally smile.
But when I got home, I found them packing.
Three bags.
Excited laughter echoed through the walls.
“This outing is going to be amazing, anak!” Mama said to Kuya.
I stood still for a moment—then turned around.
“I’m ready!” I heard Papa say from behind as they all left.
They never noticed I wasn’t with them.
They didn’t even look back.
Days passed.
And the awarding day drew closer.
Still, Mama and Papa never came home.
Saturday arrived.
And I stood there…
Waiting.
Alone.
It was Saturday morning when I saw them return—Kuya, Mama, and Papa.
Their faces looked tired, but fulfilled.
I said nothing.
Instead, I went to the bathroom and bathed in silence.
I slipped on my wrinkled uniform, clipped my hair with an old hairpin, and powdered my face lightly.
There was no one to dress me, no one to say I looked nice.
Still, I tried.
I didn’t even bother telling Mama and Papa about the awarding.
I already knew the answer—they wouldn’t come.
When I got to school, the hall was buzzing with excitement.
Parents filled the room, proudly holding up their phones, ready to take pictures of their children.
One by one, the students were called up.
Their moms stood beside them, taking photos, hugging them tightly.
I sat there alone, hands clenched, watching… wishing.
Wishing Mama was here too.
Then I heard it.
“Ms. Cathleen,” my teacher called.
I stood up. My legs shook a little.
Everyone looked at me.
I walked up to the front and received my certificate.
The teacher smiled kindly, "Where’s your mom, dear?"
I forced a smile. “She’s sick, ma’am,” I lied.
The camera flashed.
But I knew... no one would be there to frame that photo at home.
I walked home slowly.
The house was quiet, unusually dark.
I opened the door—no one was there.
No cheers.
No hugs.
Just silence.
I climbed the stairs and lay in bed, the certificate still clutched in my hand.
I fell asleep, the emptiness wrapping around me like a blanket.
---
Years passed.
And still, nothing changed.
Kuya eventually graduated.
He wore a medal, a toga.
There was a party.
People came.
Now, it’s just me.
I’m the only one left studying.
But I drifted...
Fell into a crowd that felt warm in the wrong ways.
Cutting classes.
Parties.
Drinks.
Sometimes, I’d come home drunk.
“What is wrong with you?!” Mama once screamed.
“You’re always out late! Drinking! Skipping school! You think I don’t know?!”
All the good I once did... all the perfect grades, all the silent hopes...
None of it mattered now.
I wanted to scream, “You never saw me when I was trying. Why do you only care now that I’m breaking?”
But I didn’t.
“You’re grounded,” Mama said.
I didn’t respond. I just went upstairs and locked myself in my room.
Days passed. I didn’t go to school.
Didn’t eat.
Didn’t speak.
Then came a knock.
Tok. Tok.
“Who is it?” I asked, quietly.
“Lil’ sis,” I heard Kuya’s voice.
“You okay? Got something bothering you?”
He came in. Sat close.
But something felt wrong.
His eyes... his touch.
His hand brushed against my leg—up my thigh.
My heart dropped.
I kicked him away, horrified.
He grabbed my wrists and locked the door behind him.
I couldn’t move.
Couldn’t breathe.
Until I saw it—
The flower vase beside the bed.
With everything I had, I struck him.
Blood.
It stained the floor.
It stained me.
- Writer
