The sun was setting, casting an orange glow through the cracked windows of their dilapidated home. The walls, thin and patched with what little materials they could find, barely held together. Narda, the elder of the two, stirred the simmering pot of adobong kangkong, her eyes focused on the task at hand. The smell of garlic, soy sauce, and vinegar filled the small kitchen, comforting in its simplicity. She glanced down at the pot, ensuring that the meal wouldn't burn, but her thoughts weren't entirely on the food.
Tengteng, her younger brother, had been out most of the day, collecting scraps for sale. He was just 16, yet he carried the weight of their survival on his shoulders as much as she did. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They should've just focus in school, should've been able to enjoy their childhood, but the cruel hand of fate had stolen their parents in a car crash when Narda was too young to remember. The only family they had left was their grandmother, who had passed away not too long ago. And now, it was just the two of them, struggling day by day to get by.
Narda's stomach growled, a reminder of the emptiness that had become a constant companion, but she ignored it. There was always a constant hunger in their lives, not just for food, but for security, for warmth, for the kind of life they'd never known. She sighed, pushing the thought away. She was doing the best she could. For her brother. For herself.
The sound of footsteps approaching made her look up. Tengteng entered the small kitchen with his usual bright smile, his face a bit dirtier than usual, but there was pride in his eyes.
"Ate, what's for dinner?" he asked, his voice light and full of curiosity.
Narda smiled faintly, wiping her hands on her apron as she turned back to the pot. "Adobong kangkong, Tengteng."
Tengteng's face lit up. "Okay! I'm starving!"
He moved over to the small table and fished something out of his pocket. He handed it to Narda, his grin widening.
"Here, Ate," he said. "I got this from selling iron junk. It's not much, but you should take it. It's what I earned."
Narda froze for a moment, her heart sinking. She looked at the crumpled bills in his hand, a mixture of small bills—money that could barely buy a week's worth of food, let alone any of the things they needed to survive. But it was Tengteng's money. He worked for it, even though he was just a child. And the fact that he was offering it to her... it hurt.
She shook her head, a knot forming in her throat. "No, Tengteng. This is your money. How could I take it from you?"
But Tengteng was stubborn. His face grew more serious, more insistent. "Ate, you're the one who's good at managing money. I'm just the one who collects it. Please, take it. You know better how to spend it than I do."
The words stung, and Narda felt a tear slip down her cheek before she could stop it. She wiped it away quickly, her voice faltering. "Tengteng, you're still so young. You shouldn't be worrying about this. I'll manage. I always do."
But Tengteng just shrugged, his eyes filled with determination. "Ate... I want you to be okay. Please take it."
Narda sighed, looking at her brother—at his dirty face, his worn-out clothes, the way he was standing so tall despite everything that had happened to them. He was only 16. He shouldn't have to carry all this weight. But here he was, trying to make sure they had enough to eat, enough to get by.
She wiped the dirt from his face with the back of her hand, her heart aching. The innocence in his eyes, the way he was trying to be so grown-up... It broke her.
"Go take a bath and eat, Tengteng," she said softly, finally taking the money from him. She felt guilty doing it, but she couldn't refuse him. He was offering it, after all.
Tengteng smiled, nodding eagerly. "Thanks, Ate!" He disappeared into the bathroom, his footsteps light.
Narda watched him go, her heart heavy in her chest. She turned away from the stove, her back to the warmth of the kitchen, and she couldn't stop the tears from falling. Itwasn'tfair. Tengteng should be playing with his friends, not worrying about where the next meal was coming from. She should've been able to shield him from this, from the harshness of life.
But life had a way of stealing the things you loved most. It had stolen their parents. It had stolen their sense of security. Now it was stealing their childhoods, one piece at a time.
She sniffled, wiping at her face. 'I've got to be strong. For him. For both of us,' she told herself. She thought of what their grandmother had always said: they were named after heroes. Captain Barbell and Darna. And despite not having any superpowers, Narda knew they had to be strong, too. They had to survive.
She took a deep breath, wiping her eyes. 'I've got this. I can do this. I will be strong.'
Moments later, Tengteng returned, freshly washed and smiling. He sat down at the table, and Narda served him a plate of adobong kangkong. They ate quietly at first, but as they finished their meal, the conversation started to flow.
"So," Narda asked, her tone light, "how's school, Tengteng?"
Tengteng's chest puffed up with pride. "Still the top student in class! And I'm the top student in the whole school!"
Narda smiled, clapping her hands in mock excitement. "Wow, amazing! My little brother's a genius!"
Tengteng chuckled, pleased with the praise, then he turned the question on her. "How about you, Ate? How's school?"
"I'm fine," Narda replied, smiling back at him. "I'm doing well, too. We'll both graduate soon. We'll both make it."
She didn't mention the exhaustion, the endless struggle to keep their heads above water. They both knew the truth—they had to be top students, they had to make good grades, or they'd never make it out of this poverty. Their best shot was to study hard, to get out of the mess they were in, and hopefully get good jobs that would allow them to live in a better place.
They chatted about other things, random, meaningless things to pass the time. But as they finished their meal, Narda realized something. "I forgot to buy ingredients for breakfast tomorrow," she said, a little guilty.
Tengteng's eyes lit up. "We can go together! We can get it from the market."
Narda smiled at his eagerness. "Okay, but let's finish eating first."
Once they were done, they cleaned up quickly and stepped outside into the cool night air. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional shout from a distant market vendor or the rustling of leaves in the wind. They crossed the street, heading toward the market, when something caught their attention.
A truck was wobbling down the road, moving erratically, as if the driver had lost control. Narda's heart skipped a beat. The truck was speeding up, getting closer.
"Tengteng...?" she said, her voice trembling.
Tengteng's face paled as he looked at the truck, his eyes wide with panic. Neither of them moved. They were frozen, helpless, watching as the truck got closer and closer. And then, Tengteng saw it. An elderly woman standing in the path of the truck.
Without thinking, Tengteng lunged forward, shoving the elderly woman out of the way. Narda acted instinctively, she shoved the elderly woman beside her aside. The truck was too close now.
And then, the truck hit them.
The impact was immediate, violent, a pain that radiated through Narda's entire body. She could hear the sickening crunch of metal against flesh, the sounds of chaos filling her ears. She felt her world spinning, her body being crushed under the weight of the truck's speed.
But despite the pain, despite the darkness creeping in at the edges of her vision, she could see the elderly women they had pushed to safety. Both were unharmed, standing at the side of the road. They had saved them.
Narda's vision blurred as she looked at Tengteng, his face pale but still conscious, still holding that grin on his face. His hand reached out toward hers.
She reached back, their fingers locking together in the last moments of their lives.
They had done it. They had made sure no one else got hurt. They had protected others, just like the heroes they were named after.
And then, everything went dark.
The last thing they thought, before slipping into oblivion, was that they hadn't left anyone behind.
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I made this 'cause I was bored, and I am facing writer's block for my previous work, so expect that I won't update it for a while...