Chapter Thirteen

Book:ENIGMA Published:2024-5-1

Haig
Suddenly, I sprang from my wooden bed and donned my blue slippers. I can feel the warm sunlight that is entering the small holes in the wooden ceiling of my bedroom. It was the first time that I woke up late in the morning. I knew that I would be late to my class today. I was so exhausted that I slept for more than ten hours, and I can still feel the pain in my abdomen.
I got my towel that was hanging on the clothesline. A door was crying when I opened it. Going towards the bathroom, I entered and shut the door, hung my towel on the holder and got naked. I saw the fist-like shaped, red bruises on my abdomen. I’m perplexed as to why it has not healed, because even a large cut on my hand would normally heal on its own, but why won’t it? Maybe it is not part of my body or anything else about the power that was given to me by the old man. I don’t care about it anymore. The most important thing to me now is that I am here and alive.
My consciousness became strong when the cold water was pouring down on me. I’m not sure how I should feel, whether I should be happy or sad because of what I did to the men and women. Definitely, I felt both. I was sad for killing the two men, and happy for helping the woman. Well, it was not my fault at all, because it was the two men who were doing wrong to me, and if I had not killed them, maybe I would have been the one who got killed by them. I don’t need to worry because, most importantly, it was not my fault if they died, because I am not the one who killed them. Maybe the curse became angry at them because if I died, it could not use my body anymore, or else it could reinvigorate my dead body.
After a few moments, I fastened the towel around my waist and got out of the bathroom. I walked on the concrete but rough floor and got into my bedroom. Maybe my mother was so busy that she did not wake me up today, but it is not their fault if I woke up late, it is my fault. I close the door and go towards the box where I put my clothes. I opened the box and got my trousers, underwear, and white shirt. While wearing my trousers, I heard that the door had suddenly cried out, so I hurriedly put on my trousers and looked back to see if it was really someone.
My mother went into my room. I was curious about why she seemed to be scrutinizing my abdomen. Until I realized that I had not worn my trousers, nay, I had not worn my shirt, and my mother saw something. Something like a fist-like bruise on my abdomen. I had witnessed how the oil from her eyes dripped down onto the floor.
“Oh Christ, what happened to my son?” she asked, then went towards me. “Are you just okay?” She wiped the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. My mother looked everywhere, but at my face. I hugged her tightly, though my abdomen was still painful. I want to stop her from dazing.
“What happened to you child?” She held my face with her hands.
“Mamma, can you stop emoting? It is just a bruise.”
“No son, tell me who did this to you and we will punish them!” Her hair seemed like snakes. It stood up and seemed to bite.
“I’m fine, mamma; look at me; I am still alive.” I know that she does not need to punish the man who did this to me, because they were already gone and got their unlawful punishments.
“Then what if you had died? They must be punished so that they cannot hurt you again, and also the other children.”
“Mamma, c’mon, just be calm.” I go towards my wooden bed and get my socks below it. “You don’t need to worry. Look, everything is fine. You don’t need to punish anyone.”
“But son, I can’t let it pass by. Everything will not be fine if we just let it continue.” She took my white shirt and started to walk towards me. “We need to report to the police those people who hurt you.” She handed my shirt to me and I got it.
“Mamma, why won’t you just relax and forget about this thing?” I wore my white shirt.
“Son, why won’t you let me know who those people are that hurt you? I cannot relax as long as I see you are suffering from the pain that they caused.”
I think for an alibi and said, “Mamma, you don’t need to worry because I already reported them to the police.”
“Are you sure?” She asked. It seemed that she had been affected by my alibi because her mood had changed.
“Trust me mamma, you don’t need to worry,” I replied. “I am already big and I know what to do if someone hurts me. Trust me, you don’t need to worry.”
“Okay Haig, we better forget it and go to the kitchen because your father is waiting for us and so that you won’t be late in your class.”
“It was you, eh? You did not wake me up early.”
“Hey, you child, can’t you wake up on your own? You have just said that you are already big enough to help yourself, but do not tell me that you cannot even wake up if I do not wake you from a deep slumber, and can you tell me the reason why you have slept so long?”
I screamed in my brain, Hey you, your lips seemed to be a machine gun! But I can’t blame her, because she is just a normal human that is sometimes curious and sometimes clear-headed. It’s my fault that I can not tell her anything about the real story. Now I believe that if you start to lie to someone, you will become addicted to doing it. Whatever they say to you, you will not be affected.
We got inside the kitchen and I saw my father was already eating his breakfast. It was the first time that I saw my father eating alone. Sometimes I did not see him eating. When I was younger, it made me wonder if my parents were eating food or not, because I could only see them eating sometimes. But they are always watching me eating food and seem curious about why I am eating.
“Hurriedly eat your breakfast, so that you can go to your school early,” my mother said.
“Hey Leona, don’t say that to your child, he might choke.”
“Ha-ha, you will choke there because you are eating too much,” I mumbled. Maybe my mother heard what I had said. She said, “Just let your father Haig. You already know that he was covetous when it came to food.”
“And he had stolen your heart, mamma?” I whispered.
My mother replied, “You better not talk about that thing. I’m not food.” She said, “Look at your father. He choked himself because you are mentioning him.”
Does it really occur that if you mention someone, there is something that will happen to her/him? But my teacher told me that it was just a belief of the elderly and could not happen in real life. But why do people not believe in magic? Based on my experience, it was true. Maybe they have not experienced what I am experiencing. My teacher also told me that the best teacher is our experience. She said that we are not doing anything if we don’t have any experience of doing something.
I am sure that if an impossible thing happens many times, someone will do nothing but believe in it. If my father chokes many times, it can force me to believe that talking about someone has an effect on them. But I cannot let go of the possibility that it is just a coincidence, just like the stories in the books that have characters, places, characters, etcetera. that coincide with someone.
But if it happens that I just mention the name of someone and s/he bites their own tongue, I know that the world cannot experience peace. The word means that if someone just mentions the name of their brother, there will be many people who will be affected. As one life touches the other, and that’s ain’t really hard to understand.
I knew that my parents were already doubting what was happening to me. There were many times that they saw evidence that there was something wrong happening to their handsome son. In particular, my mother has already noticed that there are many weird things happening. I knew that even though she would not ask me, she could sense it because she is my mother.
How many innocent people do I need to kill? How many people will be bereaved because of me? How many sins do I need to commit before I can be free from this? I am just lucky that there is no one who is searching for me or who saw the crime that my body committed.
Everyday, I walk the streets back and forth. But though sometimes I am lazy, I can endure everything for my dreams. Every time I see Jayne Salvador, my beautiful teacher, my tiredness will disappear. Her smile gives me happiness and her soft voice gives me strength. This may sounds un-contemplated, but I want to marry her.
Sitting on the white bench under the shade of huge trees that seemed older than the campus. Our principal was so protective that he did not want someone to do something in the trees. I don’t know if what is in the tree, maybe a dryad who was living inside. Well, these trees should not be cut because there are many negative effects if it happens, and maybe that’s the only reason.
The beautiful girl is going towards me. She is wearing a blue shirt, a skirt, sandals, and is carrying her shoulder bag and some papers or books. Walking slowly makes me fall more in love. My heart beat so loudly when she went towards the bench and sat down beside me. Disquiet, wanting to stand, to jump, to shout, but I did nothing and made myself calm.
She looked at my face and said, “Good afternoon, Mr. Zschech. What are you doing here?” She put her papers and books on the bench.
I don’t know what to reply. Disquiet because it’s the first time that she talked with me like this. Before, she would just pass by my front and continue walking towards the classroom without even looking at me. Well, it is not my business at all, especially that she is my teacher, and I’m just her student.
“I am just sitting here… waiting for the throng of students to disappear.” I smiled. I can’t avoid having eye to eye contact with her.
“You are so happy, I can see it in your face. Would you tell me something?” A cloud slowly lowered darkly into her eyes.
“I am just smiling, but not all smiles are happy, others are not.”
“You are right… and good, because you are smiling even though you are not happy.”
“Is not it that you said, ‘we can smile in whatever situation that we are facing’?”
“Oh, you are so smart, but it is also okay not to be okay if we are facing problems and sense that we cannot find any hope.” She seemed to be loading the whole world with the way she talked and winked her eyes.
I am confused about her words. “Would you tell me something?”
My teacher is my illegal drug. I am already addicted. When she was sad, I also became sad. If she seemed to carry the whole world, I seemed to carry the whole world too. I always want to take her burden and make her happy every day, every night, every hour, every minute and even every second.
But this time, her sadness gave me mixed feelings that I never expected to happen. I am happy for myself and sad for my teacher. She told me that her boyfriend had left her behind for an unknown reason.
“How can he do that to you, Miss Jayne? You looked perfect, your appearance is perfect and you are also kind to everyone. ‘Your boyfriend is so numb that he can not see it,'” I said.
“I never expected that he would leave me so easily without a clear reason. What I only knew was that he loved me. He was a respectful and kind man, and that was the reason I loved him,” She replied.
A kind and respectful man? How can you say that if he just left you? He cannot be called kind and respectful, because he did not even show respect and kindness to you. He just left without even saying a farewell. He does not deserve someone like you.
“Maybe there was just something important that he did, that’s why he hurriedly left me,” she said with confident.
“Maybe.” I sense that a man like him has just made you a fool. He won’t come back anymore. But my teacher seemed confident about her words, and even the glum on her face had disappeared.
She smiled at me and said, “Thank you for spending a while with me, but I need to go now.” She got her books and papers, then stood up. “See you in our class tomorrow.” She walked away. I also got up and went home.
Maybe she was not the right person for me. Because from whatever angle I looked at her, she was different. Our ages, preferences, beliefs, and many other things were different. Maybe I am still young to have a girlfriend, and maybe what I felt for her is not love, but infatuation. She had told me that infatuation and love are different.
Infatuation is an instant desire. It is one set of glands calling out to another. Love is a friendship that has caught fire. It takes root and grows one day at a time. Infatuation is marked by a feeling of insecurity. You are excited and eager, but not genuinely happy. There are nagging doubts, unanswered questions, little bits and pieces about your beloved that you would just as soon not examine too closely because it might spoil the dream.
Love is quiet, understanding and the mature acceptance of imperfection. It is real. It gives you strength and grows beyond you to bolster your beloved. You are warmed by her/his presence even when s/he is away. Miles do not separate you. You want her/him nearer, but near or far, you know that he is yours and you can wait.
Infatuation says, “We must get married right away! I cannot risk losing you!”
Love says, “Be patient. Do not panic. Plan your future with confidence.”
Infatuation has an element of sexual excitement. If you are honest, you can admit it is difficult to be in one another’s company unless you are sure it will end in intimacy. Love is the maturation of friendship. You must be friends before you can be lovers.
Infatuation lacks confidence. When s/he is away, you wonder if s/he is cheating. Sometimes you check. Love means trust. You are calm, secure, and unthreatened. Your beloved feels that way also, and that makes her/him even more trustworthy.
Infatuation might lead you to do things you will regret later, but love never will. Love is a mood booster. It makes you look up. It makes you think. It makes you a better person.