Simula
741 Words
They say everything happens at the right time. Especially love.
Love comes exactly when it should—never too early, never too late. And when two hearts are meant to find each other, no distance, no storm, not even the entire universe can pull them apart
That's what I used to believe. But my parents' love story proved otherwise.
My mom was sixteen and dad was seventeen. Pareho silang nag-aaral ng damating ako. Right love at the wrong time, perhaps.
Nang mamatay si papa ay nagbago ang pananaw ko. Baka kaya maaga silang nagkita ni Mama dahil maaga rin siyang mawawala. At least they had twelve years. At nakasama pa namin siya.
But after he was gone, life turned gray.
Mom became a single mother overnight. Tinanggap niya lahat ng trabahong kaya niya, habang ako naman ay naiwan sa landlady na tumanggap sa amin. Akala ko okay na kami, until the day she hurt me in ways I still can't even put into words. When Mom found out, she confronted her. That same night, pinalayas kami.
Still, fate must've taken pity on us, because just when we had nowhere else to go, Mom remembered her best friend. Tita Lina.
Tita took us in without hesitation. Bilang kabayaran sa kabutihan na ipinakita niya, si Mama ay nagtrabaho bilang helper sa bahay nila.
That's how I met him.
Nicholas Alexis.
The youngest son of the family.
I still remember his eyes—deep, sharp, and always burning with something I couldn't name. Ang unang titig niya pa lang, alam kong ayaw niya na agad sa'kin.
Every time I tried to play with him, he'd push me away. Hindi ko alam kung bakit ayaw niya sa'kin, kung bakit siya nagagalit sa tuwing makikipaglaro ako sa kaniya at kahit sa ibang mga bata.
"Wow, look at your grades, Rain! I'm sure you're proud, Jazel," Tita once said, smiling at my mom. Then her tone changed. "Unlike Nicholas. He's such a headache. I don't know what to do with him anymore."
I didn't say a word.
Nasa sala kami noon. Excited pa naman akong ipakita ang grades ko kay Mama. Si Nicholas, kararating lang, sakto para marinig niya ang sinabi ng mommy niya. Tiningnan niya ako nang matalim, and I immediately looked down.
Ganun lagi. No matter how kind I tried to be, my presence irritated him.
Pagpasok ko ng Grade 7, puno ako ng pag-asa. I wanted to make friends, to finally belong. But Nicholas made sure I wouldn't.
Binubully niya kahit sino na nagtatangkang kumausap sa'kin, hanggang sa wala nang lumalapit. By the end of the year, I was completely alone.
Still, hindi ko siya kayang kamuhian. Maybe he was broken in ways I couldn't understand. Maybe he was angry kasi lagi kaming kinukumpara. I excelled in school, while he rebelled, desperate for the attention he never got at home. And I became the easiest outlet for his anger.
But things changed in Grade 8.
He stopped.
For the first time, tumahimik ang buhay 'ko. I started making friends. Meanwhile, he fell deeper into trouble, dating girls left and right, even someone older than him. He became the kind of boy people warned you about.
Then came that night.
"Hindi ka ba nahihiya sa ginagawa mo, Nicholas? Pati anak ng ninong mo, pinatulan mo?!" his father's voice boomed through the living room.
We all looked down. Tita tried to calm him, pero lalo lang siyang nagalit. Nahuli nilang may kahalikan ito. His father was furious and humiliated.
"Ayusin mo ang buhay mo, Nicholas! Stop being a brat!" he shouted before storming out.
Nicholas wiped the blood from his lip and smirked—that same cold, terrifying smirk I'd grown to dread.
When everyone left, kaming dalawa na lang ang natira.
He turned to me. "So, it's you," he said darkly.
I froze. His face was inches from mine.
"It wasn't me," I whispered, trembling. Pero hindi siya naniwala.
"I thought you were different," he said bitterly. "Pero sa huli, you just want my attention too."
I stared at him, stunned. Wala naman talaga akong kinalaman.
He leaned in, his breath brushing my ear.
"I will never, ever like you," he whispered. "Mark my words."
Then he walked away, leaving me standing there—heart pounding, throat tight. I should've cried. I should've been angry.
But all I could do was whisper to myself:
"The feeling is mutual, Nicholas."
I will never like you either.
- Writer
