Chapter 1: Faded

The flickering lights from the lamp illuminated my four-cornered room as I pulled its switch continuously to disturb myself from unwanted thoughts. Being alone in the middle of the night gives excruciating chills to my system, and I never get used to it.

Only the lamp provides light in the room, and turning it on and off only intensifies the terrifying feeling. Something I should have gotten used to long ago. Every time I turn on the light, different kinds of images appear between my memories. Every time I turn it off, I look back into the darkness that I used to dwell in.

You know, living in a dark and lonely room is quite scary, but you have to stay inside because that's where you grew up, that's where you find comfort and peace, and at the same time, pain.

"Aera! I heard you're a top achiever? What rank?" - I still remember when mom opened the topic at the dinner table back when daddy was still here.

My fourteen-year-old face lit up, and I happily mentioned my rank at school.

"Yes, mommy! I'm top 3!"

"Top 3 only? For goodness' sake, Aera, that's not even something to be proud of! When I was your age, I dominated the rankings of our class!" - There was disgust in mom’s voice when she said that.

I lowered my head.

"Hon, that's enough! Aera’s just a kid; she’s still learning. I’m sure she’s going to ace it next quarter. Right, sweetheart?" - Daddy tried to comfort my younger self. I could still vividly remember how my eyes gleamed with hope, thinking that I had an ally in the house.

I nodded at daddy at that time and smiled slightly.

"See?" - said daddy to mommy.

"Whatever! That’s why that kid’s head is getting bigger." - Mom retorted, but daddy ignored her.

"Still a good job, sweetheart! What gift would you like?" - Daddy turned to me.

"A book!" - I happily answered.

Remembering those good old days never fails to make me smile, despite the pain. Knowing that no matter what memories I have, I can never bring them back, not ever.

"Ohhh! Love! Faster! Pleaseee. That’s ahhh, good! Hmmm."

It was noon when I decided to go home from school because there was no class. I was approaching my room when I heard those weird sounds, so I decided to find out what they were. Only to be led to my parents' room. The door was slightly open, so I decided to peek.

I covered my mouth when I realized who was in the room and what the two people were doing inside.

It was my dad and his secretary, Ms. Grace. And guess what?

They’re having sex.

My young mind couldn't believe that my dad had cheated on my mom. I couldn't accept that the man I looked up to so much was capable of doing something so wrong.

Whether I accepted it or not, my father is not a saint; he's a sinner and a cheater in the making.

It was always like that. I kept catching them both without them knowing. And I always kept quiet, not to protect my father but to avoid hurting my mom. She may have been a tough mother for pressuring me so much with my studies, but she always made sure I was doing well. That I was okay. She always made sure I’d be fine wherever I went. She wasn’t gentle with words, but her actions spoke volumes. And I knew how much she loved my father. I saw how she almost worshipped him. I was afraid that what my father was doing would break my mom. I was afraid she might lose it.

But then again, no secret stays hidden forever. No stench goes unnoticed.

I had just gotten out of the car, still in my uniform, when I heard shouting. One voice I recognized was my mother’s. I hurriedly ran towards the sound. It led me to my parents' room. When I saw the commotion, my teenage mind already knew what was happening. The secretary was wrapped in a blanket and only wearing the bottom part of her clothes. My mom was furious in front of them.

"GET OUT! OUT!" - Mom shouted angrily. When the secretary didn’t even move, mom couldn’t contain herself and lunged at her.

"I SAID GET OUT! YOU BITCH!!!" - My mom screamed as she pulled the secretary by the hair. My dad tried to stop his mistress, and I tried to stop my mom. We succeeded in separating them.

"HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME! FELICIANO!" - My mom shouted at my dad.

All my dad said was, "I’m sorry," and that angered my mom even more.

"Sorry? I don’t need that! CHOOSE, FELICIANO! ME AND YOUR DAUGHTER? OR YOUR WHORE?"

"I’m sorry."

That’s all my dad said. When he said that, both mom and I knew what it meant.

He was choosing the other woman.

My mom broke down. I saw how my mom tried to plead with my dad to stay. I saw how my mom kneeled, begged even, but to no avail. My dad still chose to leave without even glancing back.

I embraced my mom during those moments as I watched my father walk away. Hoping he would turn around. Hoping he would come back. But that never happened. And there, left in that room, were my grieving mother and my broken heart.

That’s how we lost my father. And no one ever knew how hellish our lives became after that.

Mom lost herself, I lost my mom. She’s always busy, always out, always away, and I’m left here, alone.

The drop of a tear brought me back to the dark room where I wallowed. I hadn’t even realized I was crying as I remembered the past. There were times when the eyes act on their own. They don’t know you’re sad, but they pour droplets of water when you are. Living like this, knowing you’re living but not really, chokes the hell out of me. Why do I even have to suffer when I could just end it all?

End it?

Right, I will end it all.

I rummaged through my bedside table looking for the right tool to do the job.

A blade.

I could not contain the thrill when I finally found it. My eyes gleamed as I held it.

“Little friend, would you help me end my suffering?”

I whispered softly.

I scanned my wrist for what they called the ‘radial artery’ — a wrist artery that, when cut, immediately does its job. One study says I had to cut it lengthwise.

I positioned the blade horizontally across my wrist. And slowly, I cut through the thin flesh.

Images of my mom at her weakest point flashed before my eyes. Droplets of tears fell over my face. I knew I was doing everything wrong. But could you blame me? If the only thing to satisfy my thirst for freedom was the sharp object in my hand?

I could feel the blood slipping out of the deep line I carved through my wrist. I could feel the dizziness take over my sanity. I could feel myself falling to the floor. Blade between my fingertips, wrist bleeding, and life slowly fading away.

Sometimes, in order to be free, you have to accept death. Because that’s where true freedom lies.

I smiled bitterly at my realization. How long will the world continue to offer the choice of death and suffering for those of us in need of light and happiness?

Before I could finally drift into complete oblivion, a terrifying scream broke inside my room. And everything went black.