Atarah's Realm

Chapter One

After two and a half hours of non-stop taking phone calls, I finally get the chance to take a break. I recline my back on my chair and stretch both my legs and my arms while yawning.

“Ms. Ocampo,” someone from behind says.

I look over my shoulder to confirm whose voice is it, and my hunch serves me right, it's TL Adam's.

“Head to Ms. Lucas’ office now,” he says.

I pull my coat that’s hanged in my chair and let my feet drag themselves on the carpeted floor. A sudden wariness creep in my veins as TL Adam walks ahead of me, passing through stations which are arranged in a linear manner. Once I set foot in the general manager’s office, I’m directed to sit on a turquoise wing chair across Ms. Lucas while TL Adam takes a seat adjacent to me. The room is well-lit and only has a few stuffs, a bookshelf behind the executive desk and a couple of chairs opposite to it. Ms. Lucas fixes her thick eyeglasses with her skinny tanned fingers then rests her arms above her glass desk.

“Ms. Ocampo,” she starts with a high-pitched comical tone. “Have you thought about the company’s offer to you?”

My lips slightly part and words couldn’t escape from them. I veer my view to TL Adam who also seems curios about my decision then look at Ms. Lucas again when a tiny courage emerges in my chest.

“I haven’t found an apartment yet. So, I don’t think, I can…” I cast my view on my white shoes as my head tries to figure out a credible excuse to say next.

Ms. Lucas leans on her oversized black chair and without waiting for my response, she speaks again. “If you can’t give us an answer within your shift, then we have to offer the position to another agent,” she says but this time, she dulls her tone a little.

“I’ll give you my answer before five."

When she gestures for me to leave, I step out of her office and gently slide the door close. As I amble my way to my locker, the idea of losing a great opportunity is banging my head. I even lose focus to the point that I’m forcing my key to someone else’s locker’s padlock. The good thing about it is that there are only a couple of people who are in there and they are all preoccupied with whatever their business is. When I open my locker, I shove my coat inside and take my tumbler and cellphone out of my bag before heading towards the pantry.

I fill in my tumbler with cappuccino in the vending machine which is located at the rear wall of the pantry then take a seat in one of the chairs of an empty table. The strong aroma of the coffee soothes my stressed psyche and its bittersweet taste energizes my tensed physique. When I lay my tumbler on the table, my attention is diverted to my phone. My eyes stare at the images on my files – a small house, shoes, clothes, dresses, bags, mouthwatering-looking foods and famous vacations hotspots such as Boracay, Coron and Vigan. While my thumb traces the screen of my phone, a tiny delight embraces me triggering the corners of my lips to curve up. A moment later, someone sits next to me but I’m so mesmerized with the photos that my eyes are glued on my phone. Realization only strikes me on who that person is when a finger pokes my cheek. I quickly hide my phone on my pocket before lifting my chin.

“TL Adam,” I say without knowing how to initiate a conversation, a non-work related one.

He runs his palm on his sleek brown hair then leans his face closer. “If finding an apartment is your problem, I’ll help out. I’ll even pay for the deposit and down payment. Just don’t throw away this once in a lifetime opportunity.”

His eyebrows meet forming fine lines in between them when I don’t respond. “I knew it,” he says. “There’s so much more to it than just finding an apartment. If you need to talk, I’m listening.”

I’ve always wanted to have a personal conversation with him, a positive one, not this. But my gut says that he is a person I could trust so the words unconsciously spurt out of my mouth.

“My…my adoptive family.” My voice is trembling so I swallow a lump of air that’s blocking my throat before continuing. “I can’t leave them…just yet.”

“Why not?” he asks. His voice manifests concern more than anything else.

“Coz of debts. Every single centavo they spent on me since I was about five years old is something I must return.”

“How much would it be?”

I shrug my shoulders and pout my lips. “Looks like they want me to work for them for the rest of my life.”

I jolt when his soft palm touches my knuckle then his fingers slowly enclose my hand. “Allow me to help you, please?”

I immediately slide my hand off his when some of our colleagues enter the pantry and occupy the set of chairs on the table next to us. I straighten my back and fake a smile when one of them offers us her food.

“Hey, join us. My mother prepared this and I don’t think I can finish them all so I’d like to share it to you guys,” she says.

I gently shake my head. “Actually, my break time is almost over so I have to go back.”

She bobs her head as an acknowledgement.

TL Adam and I head back to the production floor but before I log in, I deviate my gaze to him who’s sitting comfortably in his station.

“TL,” I say. “I need help.”

His eyes briefly enlarge before softening. He nods and proffers his warm smile as his dimples brag themselves on his cheeks.

When the shift is over and with signed promotion papers on my hand, thrill cloaks my entire being.

'This is it! The start of my life!'

As I saunter the open ground near the proximity of our company’s building, a scary-looking tree piques my interest so I walk closer to it. I've always seen this since I start working here more than a year ago but never really pay attention to it. My eyes crease as they examine its weird shape with gnarled branches then my fingers knead its rough and spiky surface. It’s the kind of tree that can commonly be seen in horror films. I notice that I’m being too intrigued with it when a stranger shouts at me.

“Did it tell you the winning lottery numbers?!”

A group of men shrieks in laughter. Though their faces are unfamiliar, we are employees of the same company due to the logo printed on their lanyards.

As much as I would like to dismiss them, annoyance wins over my cool headedness. “How I wish it did…but it didn’t.” My feet stroll towards them. “It just told me that unhappy people are always meddling with others' lives.”

Their eyes widen and so as their mouths. Before they could say or do anything, I gracefully turn around, walk away from them and hurriedly hop in a taxi. I glance at the rear glass window to see if their following me, thank God they don’t.

“Guadalupe, please.”

As the taxi drives around the wide boulevard, the just-risen sun peeks through the horizon and sprinkles its dim sunshine all through out the buildings which are vying in sizes and heights. The scene gradually changes from an enterprise zone to a residential area. After about twenty minutes of travel, the taxi pulls to a stop in one of Guadalupe’s small towns.

My feet walk sluggishly on a narrow street while avoiding the puddle that are scattered on an uneven ground. No matter how careful I am not to get any dirt, some of the mud splatter on the hem of my pink skirt as the children dash passing arrays of sari-sari stores and houses. A couple of feet from our house, a man in a sleeveless shirt with cigarette between his fingers calls out to me.

“Atarah!” he says. His voice is hoarse and his breath reeks of alcohol.

I stop and turn around but doesn’t walk towards him.

“Prepare breakfast as soon as you go home.”

With a deadpan expression, I nod then leave.

Once I set my foot on our rickety house, I throw my coat and bag on the rugged sofa in the living area then remove my shoes off my feet. My shoulders slouch at the sight of the wet floor with buckets of rain water at the corner of the dining area. I trudge closer to it and raise my gaze, the hole on the roof is getting worse especially now that it’s typhoon season. I giggle as my lips turn into a smirk at the thought that I’m going to abandon this place soon. After cleaning the messy dining area, I cook their breakfast – fried rice with scrambled eggs and sausages. Before I could get a chance to take a breather, a door creaks open and steps out of the room is my mother, Magda. She saunters towards me with an eerie smile on her face.

“Do you have money?” she asks while scratching her neck with her long fingernails.

My eyebrows flinch which I assume she notices since her smile turns into a scowl. My hand slides in the pocket of my dress and takes out all the money inside of it.

“Here,” I say, extending my arm.

The moment my money reaches her palm, she sneers. “Is this it? We have bills to pay, Elise is about to take her final exams and she has not paid her….”

“I’m leaving.”

She curls an eyebrow and rectifies her posture. “Where are you going?”

I set my shoulders back and clear my throat. “Somewhere far from here. To a place where you can no longer find me.”

Pack! A slap in the cheek is what Magda offers me. Her face clenches as she grits her teeth then she points her index finger at me. “You. Can’t. Go. Anywhere!”

Her next action doesn’t surprise me at all. She heads to where my bag is, zips it open and searches for my wallet but before she could get a hold of it, I grab her wrist and shove it away then hugs my bag in my arms. Her eyes broaden in disbelief and my behavior provokes her to tug my hair and hurl me to the sofa. The flower vase at the center of the wooden table splinters when it hits the floor causing my sister Elise, who still has white cream masking her face, to get out of her room. Instead of pacifying the situation, she stokes more fuel to the fire by encouraging Magda to keep on pummeling my face with her fist while her other hand is clasping my hair. Tears stream down from my swelling eyes as I scream at the top of my lungs, begging anyone for help. Buzzing words resound in the air as the neighbors gather outside the house, peeping through the window and door but none of them dares to rescue me.

Magda and Elise’s mouths blabber simultaneously about all the sacrifices their family have to go through just to feed and shelter me. After a few more strikes from both of them, the town’s captain arrive at our house and halt the commotion. The very instant that the captain and his assistants successfully separate Magda and Elise from me, I quickly run outside and along the dirty road. My bear feet and legs are smothered with soil then a gnawing sensation crops up to some parts of my body but these don’t stop me from sprinting away.

My head is clouded with anger and my heart is slithered with pain. In an unexpected event, a loud screeching and smashing noise causes my body to fling on the asphalted road. My body throbs even more, crimson sticky liquid gushes out from my skin, images of people’s feet surround me, mumbling words echo in my ears then my bag drops in front of my face, spreading out stuffs from inside including my favorite handkerchief. My head spins and my vision blurs as my wide open mouth gasps for air.

Then…darkness.