Hurtful Past

Marimar Oquendo’s Point of View

I lost my family when I was eighteen years old. I still remember how unbearable the pain was back then. I nearly lost my mind and sense of reason, not knowing what to do after it happened.

I can still picture the flames raging before me, blazing fiercely as if they meant to bar me from our street.

Yes… it was painful. The most agonizing and traumatic day of my life.

Seven years ago…

“Wake up, Mara!” My mother’s loud voice pulled me from sleep each morning, even when I wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. I remember how she would tap my cheek every day, almost as if she might slap me just to rouse me fully.

“Good heavens, Marimar! Get up now, child—it’s eight o’clock already!” she called again.

Of course, the moment I heard the time I shot up faster than lightning. Good grief! I was so late!

I moved quicker than the Flash from marvels himself. A shower that should have taken ten minutes was done in five. I dressed in a rush and headed to our small kitchen, just a few steps from the living room we shared as a family.

“That’s what you get for staying up late and then being unable to wake early,” my brother said from across the table, a teasing grin on his face. He was already eating, and it looked like he hadn’t showered yet.

“Speak for yourself—you’re not even going to school today,” I shot back, making him laugh.

“Our teacher isn’t there,” he said before taking a sip of coffee. “Want to know why?”

I raised an eyebrow at him as I took a bite of food. “Why?”

“Her underwear was wet!” he shouted, then burst into giggles.

I laughed too. “You’re crazy!”

We were both laughing when Mom suddenly pulled his ear. “Ouch!” he yelped.

“Dominador Silvano Oquendo! All you’re good for is nonsense. Hurry up and take a shower—do you want me to drive you to school myself?”

I burst out laughing at Mom’s words. She looked stern, but I knew she wasn’t angry. That was just who she was: she rarely lost her temper over small things and had endless patience. I knew she loved us deeply, and I felt so lucky to have her as my mother.

“I was just joking, Ma! Besides, we really don’t have class. Ms. Postor is at a press conference—ouch!”

Mom let go of his ear and turned to me. “You, finish up quickly, dear. You’re graduating soon, so focus on your studies. When you finish school and get a stable job, you won’t have to live like we do now.” She spoke seriously, looking straight into my eyes.

I smiled at her and nodded repeatedly. “Don’t worry, Ma! I’ll take care of it. I’ll graduate, I promise!”

I was so confident back then. I was certain I would finish school because I could think of no reason why I wouldn’t. I attended public school, so there were no fees, and it was close enough to walk to every day.

But I never could have imagined I would break that promise to her. In an instant, all my dreams and hopes seemed to vanish into thin air.

I was walking home that day to save money so I could add to my savings. “Wow! Your dog is so beautiful, Elder Perla!” I praised the dog of the elderly woman who lived near my school. I passed her house every day, so we had grown close.

I talk a lot, you see—even with people I don’t know, I end up striking up a conversation just because I can’t stay quiet.

“Thank you, Marimar! My child bought her. They said she’s a… saberia? Synbedia? Sibegeria?” Her mouth hung open; she couldn’t quite pronounce the dog’s breed.

I laughed. “Just call her an askal! It’s easier to say!”

She laughed too and scratched her head. “You’re crazy! I just can’t get the word right.”

I smiled. “It’s okay, Elder—”

“FIRE!”

My heart jolted violently at the shout. I grabbed the arm of the man running toward us.

“What’s happening, sir?!” I asked frantically, seeing more people running from the distance.

“Marimar! It’s you—there’s a huge fire in your neighborhood! Hurry! Maybe your house isn’t burned down yet!”

“W-What?” The panic I felt in that moment was overwhelming. Even though I wasn’t an athlete, I ran as fast as I could along the highway to our street.

My whole body shook with fear when I saw the massive flames consuming every house in my path. Our home was at the end of the street, and as I saw neighbors running toward the highway, my heart beat faster and faster.

Why was this happening? Why did I feel so terrified?

“Marimar!” A familiar voice called out to me.

I searched for the speaker among the crowd gathering nearby. I could hear the loud wail of approaching fire trucks.

“Marimar!” I flinched when someone grabbed my arm. It was our neighbor, Ate Angie, crying as she held her child.

“S-Sis! Where’s Mom? Did you see them?!” I asked her anxiously.

Tears streamed down her face even faster. “M-Marimar! I don’t know! I don’t know!” She sobbed loudly, and her child started crying too. “The fire was so big! It spread so quickly! You know your house is the first one connected to the other street—”

“What do you mean?” I cut her off without thinking.

I couldn’t understand… why was she talking like this? Why was she crying?

She clutched my arm tightly. “Mara… w-we didn’t see your family get out!” she said before breaking down in sobs.

The world felt like it was weighing on my shoulders. My body was heavy, but I still managed to run toward the street where our house stood.

The flames were enormous, scorching hot. It felt like I was in hell itself. I wasn’t thinking clearly; I kept repeating Ate Angie’s words in my head.

“Marimar, don’t! Hey, stop her!” I heard shouts behind me, then strong arms wrapped around my body to hold me back from what I planned to do.

“M-Mom! Let me go! M-Mom and Domi are there!” I screamed, struggling to break free from their grip.

Tears streamed down my face as they pulled me away from the entrance to our street.

“My family! They’re inside! Ma! Domi! Please help them!” I screamed as I fought against them. “My family!”

The people holding me were crying too. I felt weak, as if my whole world had crumbled into pieces because of this tragedy. There was nothing I could do. I only cried and prayed that what they were saying wasn’t true. I don’t know how many hours passed before the massive fire that changed the lives of everyone in our slum was finally put out.

“Marimar… come here, child.” Aunt Tiara, another neighbor, called out to me as she tried to calm me down.

“Auntie… where’s dad?” I asked.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she helped me stand up. So much happened that day. I can barely remember what I did after the fire was extinguished.

I heard the sound of firefighters and the wails of people mourning the homes and belongings they had worked years to build, all gone in an instant.

But the only clear memory I have from after the fire is collapsing to the ground and sobbing uncontrollably when I saw three charred bodies near our front door.

The pain was unbearable. In a single moment, all my dreams and my entire family were gone. The suffering I endured after that tragedy was immense.

I never went to college. Instead, I chose to work so I could eat. My Aunt Crisma claimed our home and built her own house there. I lived with them and served them like a maid. I endured everything and managed to stay sane despite the overwhelming pain.

But I believe my life has a purpose. I believe God has a plan for me. And I know I will become rich!

Yes, I will be rich!

I smiled bitterly as I stared at the white ceiling of my room. It has been seven years… hasn’t it? I’m grateful I survived those hellish days.

“Milk… hmm.” My mouth parted in surprise when I felt a heavy arm and hand resting on my chest. I turned to see the source—and there stood the man who would be the key to my fortune!

My handsome, muscular charge with the perfect abs!

My face grew warm when his fingers squeezed my chest. Good heavens—he’s asleep right now!

He was sound asleep beside me, so I could clearly see his long eyelashes.

I brushed the hair from his face. “What kind of pain did you go through to end up like this? Hmm? Levi?” I whispered.

I don’t know the real reason why he acts the way he does. His brother didn’t explain it to me yesterday. But I’ve heard from other staff that he has a mental illness—and honestly, it shows.

But what kind of mental illness? Was he born this way, or did he experience trauma like I did and simply couldn’t cope?

“Co…”

I leaned closer to him as he mumbled something. “Hm?”

“Co… pa…”

I furrowed my brow. “Copa?”

His hand squeezed my chest again. “Cocomelon-papaya… nanny.”

My face flushed, and my mouth opened wide at his words.

“Good heavens—I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve surprised me with the things that come out of your mouth,” I whispered with a laugh, talking to the sleeping Greek God beside me.

I don’t know why, but even though I’ve only been his nanny for less than a week, I can already feel myself growing deeply attached to him.

Would I ever get close to a man like him if he weren’t in this condition?

I closed my eyes again. It has been seven years since I last felt this way.

It feels like I’m not alone anymore. Well, of course not—there’s a man who loves “cocomelon” who's now part of my daily life, and he’ll help me become rich!