The Photo Collector

Cylvia’s POV:

“Rock-a-bye, baby

On the treetop

When the wind blows

The cradle will rock,

When the bough breaks

The cradle will fall;

And down will come baby

Cradle and all.”

Memories kept on flashing in my mind over and over as the song automatically played, giving chills to my entire body and causing my tears to rain down directly on my cheeks. It’s been a year. It’s been a year since my most beloved and cherished person who promised not to leave me alone broke her promise. It’s been a year of carrying heavy emotions on my shoulders. It’s been a year of living alone. At this exact day, at this exact moment, my Mom perished.

She left without even seeing her only daughter for the last time. She left without even holding my hands. She left without even receiving the apology I had never ever gave to her. 

I was her angel for at least a short period of time, the only good thing that had happened in her not-so fulfilling adventure in life. I was her treasure she had always kept hidden from the rest of the world. I was her lovely daughter. Her most beloved person. I was confident enough to say it because half of the time, I had felt that. I was her expensive diamond; a stone that would worth a King’s ransom. I thought I would get stronger as the time passes by. 

But I was wrong. After what she did, I came back to being an ordinary stone. A pebble like the thousands of millions of pebbles on the shore. A pebble that brittles over time. A pebble that has no value. She molded me only to break me in the end. 

She made a mistake that caused me to dump her forever. This might not be so big deal for the many, but let me tell you, it hurts like hell to believe in the promises you have always thought would be fulfilled. 

She promised me that we would survive; that we would take care of each other even without Dad. I could still remember back then when they decided to divorce after Mom found out that he had another family. At first, I thought Mom would be okay to raise me alone. I thought she won’t beg for Dad’s attention since it was her decision to break up with him in the first place. But then, she realized we won’t make it without him. He was the one who supported our financial needs, that’s why without him, we surely found it difficult to live. So she kept on following dad, asked for his apology and begged him to stay. But Dad refused. My Mom failed. 

After that, everything fell out of hand. Mom’s life became miserable. From then on, she had drunk herself to death every night. She had smoke countless of packets of cigarettes, thinking that her life was nothing but a mere ash. I couldn’t help myself but just cry and cry until I could no longer take my emotions. I couldn’t do anything other than to feel bad. There were times that I had to ask for our neighbours left-overs only to have something to be put in my empty stomach. She had no time preparing foods to me. And even if she had, she wouldn’t be able to afford any. That was the day when I officially cut ties with her, and declared to the world that she’s no longer my mother. How funny. 

Out of all of those bitter memories, I had one favourite and I reckon I would be remembering it until I grow old. It was the time when I woke up the day with my Mom ironing my school uniform. I was surprised. For a moment, my anger to her decreased a little. 

But when I saw the darkening area under her eyes, the unveiling of her sanguine veins on her arms, and the  unkempt situation of her hair, I realized that she went a big leap in her addiction. From liquors and cigarettes, to marijuana and cocaine. From living a terrible life with me, to leaving the terrible life alone. Because of that, my guilt oozed even more. My anger rose. All the words she had mumbled when I left home for school didn’t mean anything to me, because all I was thinking during that moment was I hated her. I permanently hated her. 

“I love you, Cylvia. Please forgive Mom. I promise I will never do it again.”

I didn’t really minded those words for I thought that those were just the side effects of the drugs she overtook, that’s why I just left her alone in the house. No kisses of goodbye. No waves of farewell. No hugs of love. Nothing. 

I finished the entire day without saying a single word. Even my classmates were badly worried. 

After school, I decided to stop over Ashley’s house to have my dinner in there. We were friends, and I knew her family really well, that’s why crashing without prior notice was never really big deal to them. We had a wonderful dinner, and a quality time together. We feasted over stuffed turkey, glass pasta, spring rolls, and a lot more. I enjoyed my stay with them. In a spur of a moment, I forgot I had problems because of them. 

It was about eight in the evening when I reached our block. I was in front of Auntie Helen’s house, three houses from ours, when I saw no light coming from our living room. It made me think that maybe, just like every end of the month, she failed to pay the electricity bill again. I was so sick of it. I was so sick of her. 

I walked towards the doorway, and the first thing I saw was the last thing I expected. It was Mom. Lifeless. Hanging herself on the ceiling, while beneath her was a knocked down chair with a note on its backrest. 

With my tears streaming intensely over my face, I snatched the letter and read it. 

“I told you, I will never do it again.”

I cried. I grieved. I mourned. I screamed. I did everything I could think of to ease the pain. But there’s no easing the pain. The dark surrounding only got darker when I started to kneel down on the floor. The bleak and silent evening suffered with me. 

Mom was gone. She died without getting the forgiveness she had always asked from me. Yes, she was terrible. But I was worse than her. I was heartless. I was a monster. 

She stood on her words when she said she would never do it again. She was true to herself. She never really did it again. 

“Rock-a-bye, baby 

On the treetop

When the wind blows 

The cradle will rock,

When the bough breaks

The cradle will fall;

And down will come baby

Cradle and all.”

The song played in my head once more. But this time, it was interrupted. I felt somebody tap my right shoulder. It was Samantha. 

I quickly wiped my tears off and pretended that I wasn’t crying. Sadly, it had no use. It didn’t work. 

“I won’t ask you if you are okay because I definitely know that you are not,”she said calmly as she sat next to me. The surrounding was quiet, that I could evem hear the beating of her heart, and the howling of the air from my nose as they ripple through my skin. 

Even though I just started wiping my tears away, they began racing down my face again. 

I felt two warm and smooth hands cupping my cheeks. They were as if like batteries charging up my draining energy. With her skin touching mine, I felt alive again. She covered all the holes in my heart. She drew my past; my painful, terrible, and awful past away. She brought back the old me. Happy. Optimistic. Contented. 

Despite everything that had been going on, despite all the hard quests I had beem going through, I felt like I’m not alone. She was with me. She will always be. 

Words from a friend roared within the deafening silence of the surrounding. Words that eased my anger, healed my pain, and drove my loneliness I had been suffering all this time away. 

“Regrets will always be in the end, Cylvia. I know that even up to this day, you are still being hunted by that terrible past that happened a year ago. But there’s nothing we can do about it. The past is already done, and there’s no way we could go back and live it again. The only thing we can do now is to accept the truth. Yes, I know it’s never easy. But time heals everything. Don’t let your past ruin your future and change who you are. Take it as a motivation. As an inspiration. And trust me, if you do, your Mom will be very proud of you,” she said while painting a smile on her face. The curve on her lips reminded me that I’m done with my past. That I had to move on for it’s already been a year, and just continue to live with or without the guidance of my Mom.

I just smiled back at Samantha. Of course, tears were still streaming on my eyes, but I no longer called them tears of sorrow. They were now tears of happiness. 

I hugged her as tightly as I could. Tight enough for me to feel that there’s still people out there who would love me. Who would care for me. The hug we made was tight enough for me to conclude that I will never experience pain again. I will never be left by anyone again. 

Right after that almost six seconds of hugging, Ms. Dolor requested Samantha to find our new principal. Samantha had left with no choice but to obey. She then excused herself and left me to where I was sitting. I had no problems with that. The smile was still stickered on my face as Samantha slowly disappeared in my horizon. 

At this point, I’m maybe alone again. But at least, now smiling.