My world seemed to come to a halt, and I wished to be buried alongside the woman to whom I owed my life. It felt like bees were jangling and buzzing in my ears. They were stinging my heart as condolences that I didn't want to hear appeared.
Time passed by quickly. I wasn't aware that I had lamented for over a year already. I cried a bucket of tears every time I remembered my mother.
One birthday had passed since I was not with my mom, and I am turning seventeen this August. I hope that she will show her face to me, even in my dream. I missed her so much.
"Hey! What's happening to you?" Kiko asked, grounding me back to the present moment. "Are you thinking about your mother again?"
I stayed silent. I didn't want to talk about what happened in the past. I want to leave it all behind and just move on. I am always trying to forget it, to ignore that topic. It had already happened, and I had no choice but to accept the truth that my mother had passed away.
But no matter what I do, I'm drowning in my own misery and sadness as I think about the moments I wasted when she was still alive. I regretted those moments that turned into memories as time went by. If I only knew she'd die, I would spend more time with her.
"I'm sorry, dude; I just made you remember your miserable past," Kiko apologized. "I swear that I will do that again."
"You're really crazy! You're not being serious even if you wanted to apologize. That might be the reason why you're still single," I guessed.
"See? I just want to make you smile, because your seriousness seems to be drowning you. Actually, the true reason is that I don't want you to drown me too. You know, sadness is contagious," Kiko added.
"Seriously, I just want to say thank you," I replied. "Thank you for always being there when I need your help. I know you're busy with your own life, but you still find time to have fun with me."
"That's what friends are for. Who else will help each other if not us?" Kiko tapped my shoulder. "Be strong, man. Life can be tough sometimes, but you shouldn't give up. You still have a lot of dreams to chase, and I'm always rooting for you. Let's just hope for the best and prepare for the worst."
"I think that's the best word I ever heard from you. You always talked about nonsense, and it's uncomfortable to hear you talk like this," I replied, and we both laughed.
There are impressive houses ahead of us. Maybe I'm lucky that my house is one of them. But what's the purpose of a beautiful house if the people living inside are demons?
Kiko's house is also big, though there are only three people living there. Actually, my house is bigger than Kiko's, though we are only two people living there. Me and my mocking father.
Kiko and I walked down the messy and riotous street where loud sounds, gossip, footsteps, shouts, laughter, and cries were scrambling. It was harsh at first, but then I got used to this kind of environment.
"This place is always crowded, and I don't know why," I said, holding the straps of my backpack.
"You're wrong, dude. It will only take a single shout that there's a ghost, and these people will quickly disappear. They are just as chicken-hearted as you," Kiko teased.
"I will kick you if you won't stop making me feel inferior. You know that my father is a constable, don't you? I will tell him to jail you so that you can jangle there alone," I warned.
"As Eleanor Roosevelt said, 'Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent.' Honestly, you're really a chicken. Your father will be the one to mock you if you tell him nonsense things," Kiko replied.
Absolutely. There's no doubt that I hate my father because he left us when I was just a kid for some unnecessary reasons. I don't know, but he's always unreasonable. He didn't even show his face during my mother's funeral; perhaps he'd been flirting with other women that time. Then he came back again, like a thief who would steal everything from me.
"Finally! See you after lunch, dude," Kiko said.
I stepped on the floor of our front porch. The silence made by the warm weather and the combination of many sounds was very headache-inducing.
As usual, my father wasn't here again. He might be flirting with his new girlfriend. Since the crowd disappeared, my dad and his girlfriend have also begun to stay with me in this house.
Talking about his new girlfriend. Actually, he has a new girlfriend named Messy Sippy. An amusing sobriquet that originated with me for a reason. I always saw her sipping something every time she went into this house. She also brings a bag full of messy things.
Messy Sippy is a gorgeous and kind woman. But not going further—nobody could replace my mother in my heart. I believe that having a good attitude is better than physical beauty. So, always be kind, because beauty isn't a long-term asset.
My mom wasn't that beautiful, but she was so humble, kind, and caring that I couldn't find any reason for my father to leave her behind. Perhaps he wasn't content with one woman, or maybe he didn't really love her in the first place.
However, I know I'm not in the position to question whether he loved her or not. I only know one thing: I'm not here if not because of them, so I would rather be grateful for their mistake.
My beloved Silence had broken up with me when I saw the two people who were sitting on the upholstered couch. What the hell are they doing here? I think I have an idea based on what I see: they are flirting over popcorn and action movies.
The television suddenly turned on at a high volume. It was a bit painful for my ears. As usual, no shows on television were fascinating; they were all monotonous, especially those commercials that wanted to promote their brands and products.
"Love, your son is here," Messy Sippy informed.
Dad turned around and looked at me. His eyes turned wide in devilish surprise. He might be thinking that I have a similar appearance to the ugly ghost in our school. I wasn't really sure if it was true or if it was just a rumor. In this modern world, I couldn't think that's possible.
He stood up and buttoned his white shirt. He did not say anything—he's always taciturn, not saying a single word if he doesn't want to, and I didn't know why. Whereas Messy Sippy is the only one who's a bit verbose in this house.
This woman is very different from my mother, who loved peace, silence, and art, while this woman loves fashion and music blasting around like there's a party. I couldn't focus on my studies because of her, and I sometimes get frustrated with her.
"Son, have you eaten?" Edward asked.
I slightly shook my head from left to right. I didn't want to say anything more. He would only ask me if I had eaten, and that's all. He won't ask about how school is, if I'm okay, if I have a girlfriend, or something like that. He had a great shortcoming to me, but I didn't care because I also owed him my life.
Since high school, I have been the one who supervised, cared for, and supported myself because no one else could even attend the school meeting. My father wasn't here at that time, and my mother became delirious about something inexplicable. That's still an enigma.
I don't want to think about the past anymore. Nobody could turn back the clock and fix the wrong things that they've done. I went inside the dining room and fed myself because I was not a pig for them to feed.
While eating my lunch, something colored my mind. The thing that made me curious for over a year was the question, "Who killed my mother?" I haven't gotten any information until now.
I remembered that we would be having a test, so I hurriedly ate my food and threw everything but my dishes into the sink—I didn't care if my father would mock me again.
My black backpack was lost. I didn't know where I put it. What I only remembered was that it was with me. It sounded unimportant, but I asked my father if he saw my backpack when I arrived here, but he didn't know. Fortunately, Messy Sippy told me that it was just me. She saw that I had been carrying it all this time.
"Thank you, Magdalene." I smiled in gratitude, though I couldn't help myself from laughing at my own unconsciousness. It's something that frequently happens to me when I am rushing.
"Welcome, son!" she replied.