Thursday, February 25, 2010

My Childhood Hero and I'm The Villain

(pre requisite of my prev story Stubborn Kid)


Heya guys!

It's been a while huh?

Just got busy answering calls, I'm actually getting tired of it, but thinking about what I have right now... just keeps me going.

I'm actually pre occupied coz' I'm writing this down and watching "Heroes Season 4" at the same time. Its just too exciting to miss. haha.

Well anyways, I'm here to continue my story about that stubborn kid. So the previous article ended in the part when I got into our house, I found my sister sitting on the floor right across my dad who's lying on the sofa. It looked like he was asleep.

I put my bag down, walked to greet my father, and guess what happened?

Have you seen the movie "Mission Impossible 3"? the part when Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) and his crew just saved their co-agent, they were in a chopper battling with another chopper, (piloted by the bad guys of course), the co-agent though had a chip planted on her brain that glitched her to death. Her left eye was looking to the left and the right eye was looking up (just like a broken doll's eye) well enough with the details.

That's how I saw my dad, his left eye was looking to the left and the right eye was looking up. At that point I had an idea on what's going on but still thought that I (or we can change it, and revive my dad). I called, shouted to our neighbours, shouting that something happened to my dad. They ran quickly into our house. All of us tried our best to wake him up, shook his body, I checked the heartbeat and I heard tuds but was slowly fading. My dad's hand are stuck, rather cold and purple that's when we realized that my dad just died.

Still dumbfounded, I sat beside my dad's body and waited for the funeral guys to take him out. My cousin called my eldest sister and told her what happened. The next thing I know I was sitting on the same sofa, I was embracing something that my dad owned (can't remember what it was, might be a pillow) and kept on saying "sorry" to my dad.

That was my story. I don't know why, but I think I was the reason why my father died.

Back story:

The night before all of this, my dad was complaining that he was having a hard time breathing like getting another asthma attack, that was very usual for us, since he was ill for a year and although we got him in and out of the hospital, it still didn't make him any better. That was 2am (in my nature I was getting ready for work), but I still took the effort and got my dad medicines from a 24-hour pharmacy. I reminded him which one is for what time but at that time my dad looked desperate, he was grabbing any of the pills, I stopped him and gave him the right ones. My dad asked me if I could stay because he was not feeling good. (Since this was like a usual thing for us) I ignored him and still left.


Up to now I'm still crying sorry. I still hate my self because of what I have done. A dying man was asking for me to stay because I was the only one he has. And that dying man used to be my hero.

Every time I remember my dad, I imagine the bad things that he did to my mom, to my sister, to my nephew, the fights that we had.

But above all of that, I remember how exciting it was when he taught me how to ride a bike.





Thursday, January 14, 2010

stubborn kid

The temperature drop down from 30 to 27 deg Celsius and i am used to this kind of weather, it always happens during or a few weeks after New Year's eve. The time when most of us enjoy snoring in our beds and beneath our blankets.

Well anyway, that has nothing to do with what I am carrying for roughly a year-and-a-half now.

I was an inbound customer agent for a pretty good company somewhere in the south, it was my first job after my college days (actually its my first job in my whole life), so I was keen and always tried to avoid doing violations like being late or releasing a yelling customer's call.

I just finished my last call for the day, and as always I would still stay in my station and work with my unfinished business (open tickets, pending credits and such) then I logged out and headed to the lobby.

My ID was not doing its job, it wont open the door for me so I waited until someone with a cooperative ID did it. Francis, Norie and some of my officemates are already there, we always hang for a while before we go home just to delay walking our way under a 12 noon angry UV rays which really hurt my sleepy-eyes (since our shift began around 1am.. wtf).

Francis, Norie and I decided to have lunch before we go home since we live far from the office and afraid that we might starve while on our way home. We walked our way to a nearby mall about 5 blocks away. We had a good conversation and even joked around because i accidentally flooded my cup of rice with gravy (when I thought that the pitcher cover was locked but then again..) I warned Francis about it but he didn't seem to hear me so we went back to the table and ate our Gravy-covered rice, (you wont even know there's rice until you slice it).

On my way home in a public jeepney, I tried to fight my dropping eyelids but so much for that, I woke up and realized that I almost missed my stop. Our house is situated along the national road like a commercial space, (a lot of people keep on suggesting me to turn our house into a small-business center but I am not yet stable and not yet ready for that). I quickly reached the house after I jumped down the jeepney. I have 2 dogs, 1 barked excitedly when he saw me and the other jumped and ran around in a hyper way (as if she saw a bag of juicy bones).

I entered the house, we have a not so good house, we barely open our windows to avoid dust coming from the vehicles outside, it was kinda dark inside and I noticed something unusual.

Everyday, when I get home, My sister would always be watching TV, (by the way my sister has a Down's Syndrome, you know those kids that looked identical even though they are not relatives? yes, my sister is one of them, she is deaf and mute and still acts and look like a kid although she is already 30.) but that afternoon was different from what I'm used to.

My sister was duck-seated on the floor in front of our wooden sofa chair, she had a poker face that time that just threw wood in my already-burning anxiety (and fear).

Before that afternoon..

.....kindly wait for my next post...

as for southern-spike.