KABANATA WALO
1394 Words
Hindi ako mapakali buong gabi.
Kahit nakahiga na ako, kahit nakapatay na ang ilaw, kahit rinig ko na ang mahinang tunog ng paghilik ni Selena sa kabilang kwarto—hindi pa rin tumatahimik ang isip ko.
May mga bagay na hindi ko kayang i-unsee.
Ang ngisi ni Jairo habang sinasabi niyang “Dito ako.”
Ang paraan ng pagtingin niya kay Selena—parang pag-aari.
At higit sa lahat… ang takot sa mata ng kapatid ko, ’yong takot na pilit niyang tinatago sa “okay lang ako, Kuya.”
People like that don’t stop, paulit-ulit sa isip ko.
At kung hindi titigil… may susunod na mangyayari.
Kaya bago pa sumikat ang araw, bumangon na ulit ako.
Maaga kaming umalis ni Selena.
Hindi ko sinabi sa kanya na sinadya kong agahan. Sinabi ko lang, “Traffic.” Tinanggap niya. Siya ’yong tipo na ayaw ng conflict, kaya basta may dahilan, kakapit siya doon.
Habang naglalakad kami papunta sa school, nagkukuwento siya tungkol sa teacher niyang mahilig magpabasa, at tungkol sa classmate niyang laging nawawala ang ballpen.
I listened. I nodded at the right times.
Pero ang mata ko… palaging tumitingin sa paligid. Old habit. Minsan, hindi ko na namamalayan na ginagawa ko. Para bang naka-on na lagi ang “scan mode” ko.
Pagdating namin sa gate, naroon na naman ang ingay ng normal na mundo. Lahat may kanya-kanyang problema: quizzes, crushes, projects.
Sa akin, iisa lang.
Selena’s safety.
“Kuya,” sabi ni Selena, “dito na tayo hiwalay ha. Sa kabilang building pa room ko.”
I nodded. “Stay with your friends.”
“Always naman,” sagot niya, pero alam kong hindi iyon laging posible. Lalo na kung may taong sadyang gagawa ng paraan para mapag-isa siya.
“Selena,” tawag ko bago siya lumayo.
Huminto siya at tumingin.
“Don’t go to the back building,” sabi ko, direct.
Nagulat siya. “Ha? Bakit?”
“Just don’t,” I repeated.
She hesitated. “Pero… minsan dun kami dumadaan pag shortcut…”
I stared at her until she looked away. Hindi ko sinasadya manakot, pero minsan, kapag seryoso ako, lumalabas ’yong “ibang” aura.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Hindi na.”
She walked away.
I watched her until she blended into the crowd. Only then did I turn around and walk to my own classroom.
Sa loob ng room, normal ang lahat.
May nagkukuwentuhan, may nagbubukas ng chips, may nagrereklamo about homework. The same guy from yesterday—yung nakipag-usap sa akin—kumaway.
“Yo, Shun!” he called.
I nodded. “Morning.”
He grinned. “Di ka pala snob.”
“I’m not,” I replied.
“Anong name mo nga ulit?” he asked, scratching his head. “Sorry bro, makakalimutin ako.”
“Ken,” he answered himself quickly, laughing. “Ken Carter.”
I blinked. That name sounded… familiar. Not because I know him, but because it sounded like a movie character.
“Ken,” I repeated, just to confirm.
“Yep,” he said, then leaned closer like he’s sharing secret info. “Bro, ingat ka pala. May kumakalat na… you know… usapan.”
“What usapan?” I asked.
Ken looked around, lowered his voice. “Yung nangyari kahapon. Yung senior na si Jairo… galit daw sayo.”
I remained calm. “Expected.”
Ken’s eyes widened. “Expected? Bro, seryoso. Kilala ’yon. May tropa ’yon. May mga taga-labas pa minsan.”
“Okay,” I said.
Ken frowned. “Okay lang?”
I shrugged. “I’ll avoid him.”
Ken looked like he wanted to ask more, but the teacher entered, so he sat properly.
Class started.
Math. English. History.
I answered when asked. I kept quiet otherwise.
If my life was a play, this is the part where I wear the mask.
Recess.
I didn’t wait this time.
Lumabas ako agad and headed to Selena’s building.
Hindi ko siya hinahanap para bantayan tulad ng guard dog. Hinahanap ko siya para malaman kung safe siya—kung may kakaiba ba.
Sa stairs, may mga estudyanteng nagkakagulo, may nagtatakbuhan, may hawak na milk tea kahit bawal. I moved through them quietly.
Then I saw her.
Selena was with her friends near the canteen. She was smiling—real smile. Not forced.
Relief.
I approached casually, not too close.
“Kuya!” she waved.
Her friends greeted me again. “Hi kuya!”
I nodded. “Hi.”
Selena approached me a little, lowered her voice. “Okay naman ako.”
“Good,” I said.
“Kuya, bumili ka ba?” she asked, pointing at the stall.
“No,” I answered.
She pouted. “Kain ka naman. Ang payat mo.”
I almost laughed. She thinks I’m thin? If she saw me before—when I was living off ration bars and adrenaline—she’d call me a skeleton.
“Later,” I said.
She nodded. Then, without warning, her smile faded slightly as her eyes drifted behind me.
I didn’t turn immediately. I felt it.
Someone was close.
I turned slowly.
Jairo.
He was leaning against a post near the back path entrance, arms crossed, watching.
He smiled like he owns the air.
Selena’s fingers tightened around her cup.
I stepped half a step to block her again.
Jairo raised his hand slightly—mock wave.
Selena looked down.
I felt my jaw tighten, but I forced myself to relax.
Your way first, I reminded myself.
Jairo started walking toward us.
Ken was right. He didn’t avoid. He escalates.
“Uy Selena,” Jairo said, voice loud enough for people to hear. “Busy ka? Di ka na nagpapakita ah.”
Selena forced a polite tone. “May ginagawa lang.”
Jairo’s eyes flicked to me. “Andito pala security guard mo.”
A couple of students nearby chuckled nervously.
I didn’t react.
Jairo leaned closer to Selena. “Mamaya, ha. Sa likod. Usap lang.”
Selena shook her head slightly. “Hindi pwede.”
Jairo’s smile twitched. “Hindi pwede? Bakit? Dahil sa kanya?”
He looked at me. “Bro, di ka ba naiinitan? Lagi kang nakaharang.”
I kept my voice flat. “Leave.”
Jairo laughed. “Leave? Eh school ’to. Public space.”
I nodded. “Then stop targeting her.”
He raised his eyebrows like he’s offended. “Targeting? Grabe, ang bigat naman ng word.”
Then he lowered his voice, but I heard it clearly: “Selena, mamaya kapag di ka sumunod… ipapahiya kita.”
Selena’s eyes widened. Her lips trembled.
My hand twitched.
Don’t fight.
So instead of punching him, I reached into my pocket and pulled my phone out again—camera on.
Jairo froze, just like yesterday.
“Again,” I said calmly. “Say it again.”
His friends behind him shifted. One of them whispered, “Pre, tara na.”
Jairo’s face darkened. “Tigil mo ’yan.”
“Then stop,” I replied.
He stared at me like he wanted to kill me with his eyes.
Then he smiled—slow, dangerous smile. “Sige.”
He stepped back. “Kita tayo mamaya, kuya.”
Then he turned around and walked away.
But before he disappeared into the crowd, he said something loud enough for others to hear:
“Selena, sure ka ha? Baka magsisi ka.”
Selena’s face went pale.
I pocketed my phone.
Her friends started murmuring.
“Grabe naman ’yon…”
“Selena okay ka lang?”
“Kuya mo ang tapang…”
Selena nodded quickly, trying to act normal. “Okay lang… okay lang.”
But her voice was thin.
She looked at me, and I saw it—she was begging me with her eyes.
Please don’t make it worse.
I lowered my voice. “After class, you go straight home with me.”
Selena swallowed. “Kuya… may group project meeting kami.”
“Cancel,” I said.
Selena flinched. “Kuya…”
I softened it. “Please.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”
The rest of the day felt like a countdown.
Every bell, every teacher’s voice, every laughter—parang background lang. My mind kept returning to one place.
The back building.
That location is not random. In every school, there are blind spots—places with few cameras, few teachers, fewer witnesses.
- Writer
