ZEN
Downstairs
I sprinted out of the bathroom, through my bedroom, and down the stairs. The creaking of the walls echoed around me, growing louder as I descended.
Wait... I'm already in the living room...
In the basement!
I quickly made my way to the kitchen and opened the locked door there. No, I shot it open. I didn't have the key, and the door was chained shut—so, I fucking shot it. The large padlock clattered to the floor, and I flung the door open—darkness greeted me, along with the stairs leading down.
I raised my gun in front of me. Only a small part of the stairs was illuminated by the kitchen light. I took out my cellphone with my free hand, its flashlight casting a narrow beam into the shadows.
What if I find something down here? What if—
Who punched the fucking wall? Who? Someone's living inside the walls? Holy shit, seriously? Has that person been listening to me talk to myself in the mirror? Why—Who—Fuck it, I'm shaking.
Carefully, I started descending. I made sure not to misstep because the stairs were wooden—and with the house being so old and uninhabited for so long, I wasn't sure if they would hold my weight.
"Come out," I whispered. "I won't hurt you."
I was now at the bottom.
It was dark in here. And...
I shone the light on the floor. There were items here—water bottles and some plastic candy wrappers. The flashlight from my phone was enough to make it clear that someone had been living in this basement. Could be a squatter. That was the only explanation.
I walked further inside, shining the light on the walls and noticing a hole in the inner wall. Big enough for a grown man to fit through—and just as I thought, there was a considerable space between the wall and the outer wall. It seemed like it was made intentionally this way.
I continued illuminating the surroundings. There were old furniture pieces here, but everything was clean... a sofa, couches, and even a TV in the corner—and there was a person—
On the mattress in the corner of the basement, I could see a man. He was sitting in the corner, hugging his knees. His hair was long and disheveled—yeah. It's a squatter. He probably lived here because the place had been abandoned. He wore loose pants and a T-shirt. They looked old and worn out, with holes in them.
"Hey..." I called out to the man. I approached him cautiously, keeping my gun and phone raised. I stopped a few feet away from him, maintaining a safe distance in case something went wrong.
"Mister... we both know this isn't your house..." He shifted slightly. I swallowed hard. He's just sitting there, but he's a big man. His legs are long. "Come with me to the precinct. I won't lock you up, okay? We just need some help..."
He looked up at me. I froze and tilted my head. His beard was thick, and like I said, his hair was long. He looks like a squatter—but not really.
My eyes widened—Wait.
F-Fuck, wait, he looks like— I stepped back slightly, shining the flashlight directly at his face. I felt like I was going to vomit—oh, crap—no. Hell no—
"W-What's your name?" I asked, my voice trembling. But the man didn't respond. He just stared at me. But no way. No fucking way. "A-Are you Noah?"
He nodded... slowly.
Holy fuck.
No. This is impossible—but—
I know, I know, I’ve forgotten Noah's face because it's been decades since he was gone! But I saw Sebastian Dela Cruz in him! He literally looks like Sebastian! And Noah resembled his father—holy fuck—what the hell is happening?
"D-Did Aunt Sarisa leave you here?"
He nodded gently.
No way. No way—this is—
From where I stood, I quickly opened my phone and dialed Aunt Sarisa's number—but she didn't answer. I kept my eyes on the man, but he remained in his spot.
No one's answering the phone. I sent several texts, and when I tried calling again, the line was dead.
Why is she ignoring me?
Why is she...
Our eyes met.
Just one look and I suddenly recognized him. That gaze is so familiar—so, so familiar.
"That's why she didn't want to open the coffin, huh..." I muttered, lowering my gun and pocketing it. I approached Noah cautiously.
He followed me with his eyes. I sat in front of him to be at his eye level. "You... you've been alone here...?"
He nodded once again.
I bit my lower lip.
I didn't know what to say or think. This was exactly how I felt when the police found me as a child... But the difference was... I was chained and beaten. And I was in a basement too. I had nothing to eat, so I captured rats and ate them raw.
With trembling hands, I brushed the hair away from his face. He didn't flinch. He just stared at me. "Can you stand?"
I stood up and gently took his hand to help him stand. And when he stood in front of me, I almost freaked out. He's tall. Too tall. I'm not sure if he's around 6'4 or 6'5, but he's so tall I want to run away. What a beast.
"Come," I said, leading him up the stairs. As we stepped into the kitchen, the light hit him fully. I could see him clearly now.
Shit. He really is Noah—
His eyes roamed around before settling on me again.
I noticed that he's lean, too. He must have climbed the walls often—climbing requires a lot of strength.
I whispered, "I'm sorry."
*****
"No!" I screamed. "How could she hang herself?" My eyes widened in shock. "She can't be dead!"
I was on the phone with Aunt Sarisa's sister. I was horrified to learn that Aunt Sarisa had hanged herself after I had called and texted her earlier. They found her in her bedroom.
I felt like crying.
"About N—n-nevermind... okay... I'll hang up now, we'll talk later." I bit my lower lip because I almost slipped and mentioned Noah.
I put my phone on the side table and stared at the man sitting at the edge of my bed. He looked presentable now. I had bought him clothes and given him a bath. I also shaved his beard and tied his long hair back since I wasn't a barber.
"What the hell happened to you?" I asked, but he didn't respond. He was busy opening a plastic bag of flat tops, those round chocolates sold in stores.
He doesn't speak at all.
Just like before.
"Noah," I called out to him.
He paused and looked up at me. He looks like Sebastian, I swear. Especially now that I’ve shaved his beard and mustache. The only difference is, Sebastian didn't have a mole by his eye. And his hair wasn't long. And this... this is his son... in front of me. Alive and kicking. Noah.
"You killed Gacy, didn't you?"
He didn't respond.
"That's why Aunt Sarisa made it look like you were dead—that's it—or maybe..." I nodded. "Yes... it's because you're a Dela Cruz, and even if you didn't do it, you'd be blamed. And when everyone points the finger at you, you're fucked."
He didn't say a word.
"Your life is over. Everything is over when..."
But why did Aunt Sarisa kill herself?
Should I tell Noah about this?
But... he doesn't speak... how will I... talk to him?
I don't know how many chocolates he had eaten. But he was like a child, devouring the candy and chocolates from the kitchen earlier.
"Noah," I called him again. "You can sleep now, even there on the bed." He just stared at me, and I couldn't do anything if he didn't want to. So, I went to my table and started organizing the scattered papers.
I still had work to do. And I needed to think about what to do with Noah. And if he really is Noah—bullshit, of course it's him. His face is proof. And I can also feel it—it's him.
I stopped when I felt someone staring at me. I turned and frowned when I saw Noah lying on the bed but still awake. His feet dangled over the edge, too long for the bed. Compared to me, that bed was long because I was only 5'5.
"What is it?" I asked. "Do you want to watch TV?"
No... I know what he wants.
"I'm not going to slee—" He stared at me. Eye to eye. Oh, crap. He wasn't doing anything, but he was creeping me out.
So, I stood up and quietly went to the bed. I lay down on the remaining space and covered him with a blanket.
He turned on his side to face me.
He had been alone here... for years... That's why groceries were delivered here last week. When I asked the delivery person, he said he always brought groceries every Sunday.
I thought the delivery guy was mistaken... but it makes sense now...
Why didn't Aunt Sarisa take Noah with her? Why did she leave Noah here?
I stared into his dark brown eyes.
"Go to sleep."
And he closed his eyes. I had wanted to piece together the memories I had lost due to my concussion... but now it seemed clear why I broke the wall—I think I heard noises, so I destroyed it.
I looked at his closed eyes.
He punched the wall.
He heard everything I said. That I am grateful he was dead.
*****