Twilight, that time of the day when the sun hangs low on the horizon, its light is fleeting and almost useless. It was also the time of day when a girl named Cecilia was born; she was the whole world to her father and mother.
Her father, John, was a songwriter, a composer on the rise and poised to take the world of music by storm. Her intelligent mother, Selina, was a sought-after university chemistry professor. The couple showered their daughter with love and everything her tiny hands would need. People said she looked like her mother, pretty and striking, but others stated that she got her heart from her father, and she loved music like he did.
The small family lived happily within their means, not wanting anything but content and happy for what they had. Life, however, does not like happiness to last that long; thus, the first tragedy struck when Cecilia was five years old.
Intramuros, Manila - Year 2001
"Cee," John called out to his daughter, "Where are you?" he looked around their backyard. The sun shone on the freshly mowed grass. "Are you hiding here?" he looked under the waist-high rose bushes that lined the fence.
Cecilia, or Cee as her father fondly called her, jumped at her dad after hiding behind a tall mango tree. Her father feigned being scared, lying on his back and clutching his stomach. "Daddy, that's not your heart, that's your tummy."
"Oh, you're right," he placed his hands over his chest and gave a dramatic "Gah!" This made the little girl laugh out loud. Her father lifted Cee as he stood up, "You like pink, don't you, my darling?"
"It's a pretty color, Daddy," she explained why she liked the color, and always wore at least one item of pink clothing
"But not as pretty as you." Her expressive almond eyes twinkled with what her father said, "Look at that cute button nose, I could just bite it off and take it with me." he then pretended to bite her nose, making her squeal and giggle.
He then stared at her daughter's oblong face and stroked her soft black hair. "You look exactly like your mom," he sighed. he then pinched her full lips. "Okay, baby, Daddy has to finish work, you just play here. I'll be over the piano where I can see you, okay?"
"Okay, Daddy." Her eyes watched her father go inside the house and sit in front of the piano, well within view of the backyard. When she heard the notes playing, she turned around to play. She picked up her doll and sat beneath the tree. She raised her head and looked upward.
The sudden silence of the backyard had John worried. "Cee?" he called out. When her daughter did not answer, he glanced at the open door to their backyard. He scanned the area from where he was seated and could not find her. He stood up and stood by the door. Panic washed over him upon seeing Cecilia sprawled on the ground unconscious.
"Oh my god! Cee?" He cradled his daughter, trying to rouse her. "Cee? Wake up, darling!" He felt for a pulse; he found one, strong, but it was irregular and racing. He quickly ran to his car and, after securing Cecilia on the passenger side, he drove to the hospital.
Selina ran frantically to the Emergency Room's front desk, "I'm looking for a patient named Cecilia Amparo Bermudez, she is my daughter!" Catching her breath as the receptionist browsed through her list of patients.
"Seventeenth floor, room 1701," the receptionist replied with a rehearsed smile.
"Thank you," Selina murmured, bowing her head slightly before sprinting toward the elevator. In the lobby, her heart raced as she anxiously awaited the elevator doors to open. Once they did, she hurried inside, repeatedly jabbing at the seventeen and the close buttons, praying it would hasten the journey to her daughter. Although it only took a few minutes to reach her daughter's hospital room, each second felt like an eternity, filled with torment and fear.
"How is she?" was her immediate question as she stepped into the room.
John rose and enveloped her in a hug. "The doctors said she has a mild concussion and a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing serious," he replied.
"Oh my God, thank you!" Selina cried, relief washing over her as she settled next to her sleeping daughter, tenderly stroking her hair. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she noticed the numerous bandages and bruises on her child's small body.
John held her from behind, his voice thick with regret. "I'm so sorry, I should have been more careful. I nearly lost our child," he lamented, tears streaming down his face.
Selina took her husband's hand. "Stop it, nobody wanted this to happen. I don't blame you, okay? It was an accident. Let's just be more attentive next time, or maybe we should get a nanny for her?"
"We can think about what is best for Cee after she gets well. For now, let's concentrate on her. The doctor said she is in deep sleep because of the shock." The couple embraced tightly, thanking their lucky stars that nothing more serious and untoward happened to their cherished daughter.
For the next seventy-two hours, the medical staff diligently monitored the young girl, yet Cecilia remained unconscious. "Doctor, what is wrong with my baby? How come she is still sleeping?" Selina frantically asked, frustration bubbling over her chest at her daughter's current state.
"We need to do a more extensive scan. There must be something that the initial scan did not record; we need to probe deeper and in more detail. An MRI is our next best step," the doctor suggested
"Will it tell us why our little girl is still asleep?" This time, John posed the question.
Cecilia slowly opened her eyes, scanning the room she was in. "Mommy? Daddy?" Her tiny voice was so soft and weak that it was barely noticeable. But to a mother and father, it does not matter how soft their child's voice is; when their child is in distress, to them it is as loud and clear as a ship's foghorn.
"Cee? Baby?" Selina was the first to be by her side. "You're awake. Thank you, my God, thank you."
"I'm so sorry, I should have just watched you. Are you okay, darling?" John kissed his daughter's forehead.
Cecilia cried when she saw her parents. "I'm so scared, Mommy."
"Mommy's here, baby, and so is Daddy; you're safe." She hugged her, but Cecilia continued to cry.
Cecilia was discharged from the hospital after four more days of imaging and tests to make sure she was fine. But the truth was, it was just the start of their problems. John, this time, watched her diligently, opting for a guitar to write his music so he could watch her wherever she was.
At first, it was just innocent play that they found endearing, their daughter talking to someone who was not there; they dismissed it as an imaginary friend. But their assumption was premature and wrong. They started to worry as Cecilia started growing; they watched her playing and laughing with someone they could not see. "Mommy, they said, I am a good singer," pointing in the general direction of her dolls.
"Really? Did Barbie tell you that?" her mother asked with a smile
Cecilia shook her head. "Dolls can't talk," She then pointed again in the same direction. "The little girl over there told me." This was the first time she felt fear; she worried something sinister was happening to her daughter.