The afternoon was blazing hot. The street was... I cant remember, but I know it was busy, with people moving to and fro, cars honking, the voices bluring together.
I walked down the sidewalk, my hoodie on my head down. Each step I took was a sting in my body, but I kept the pain hidden.
The fractured ribs from Friday, the swollen arm from Thursday, and many other bruises gotten from a man I called father.
But there was nothing I could do. He was the one paying my tuition fees and feeding me raising me. I just had to endure till I graduated and got a job, then run away with Ann and Mom.
I paused, standing still. Tears dropped from my eyes hitting the pavement. I could still hear her voice crying in my head.
When was the last time I saw Ann smile?
Then it came to me her bright smile. Last year?
What of Mom? She always had to wear that fake smile to encourage us, but I wanted it to stop.
I couldn't take it anymore. I rubbed the tears off with my arm. I didn't want to watch him beat Mom again. I didn't want to watch him hurt Ann. If... if it's only me, I didn't mind I won't let him hurt them again.
But those were all words in my head. I could never say it, could never do anything to defend myself.
I took a deep breath, gaining my composure, and stuffed my hands back into my pockets.
No one is coming to save you, Jeremy. You have to be a man. That was the only words I used to comfort myself, to keep on pushing. I moved on, repeating the words in my head. I didn't bother looking up. My eyes were still... tears.
I kept moving. My body struggled. I clenched and unclenched my fist in my pocket, trying to keep my cool, my sanity.
I paused before the zebra crossing with others, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. I increased the words in my head: no one is coming to save you, be a man, no one is coming to save you, be a man.
The words echoed in my head like a mantra. I felt tormented by my own thoughts, the repetition... it was too much.
I smiled like a maniac. I tapped my foot on the ground, holding myself. The voices of people chatting, laughing, mixed with the horns and passing of cars.
From the corner of my eyes, i saw a man, hold his son's hand they, smiles and laughed they were bonding.
I never knew what that felt like from, but I tried to hold myself.
But I couldn't. I couldn't just take it anymore.
I didn't care about my life the world didn't seem to care.
I ran into the busy road. I didn't know when my body moved, but I felt relief. Like a burden lifted off my chest.
At least it will all end. Maybe he'll change. Maybe my death will change him. My final tears rolled down my cheeks. Mom, Ann, I'm sorry.
The hit was painful. I tumbled on the road multiple times. My body went numb I could hear the screams of people as my consciousness drifted away slowly.
That should have been the end.
But my consciousness surfaced back.
My head ached. I opened my eyes slowly, facing the ceiling, white and bright. I squinted my eyes and sat up surveying the ward I was in.
"What? I'm not dead." I muttered.
I was in a hospital. My head was bandaged, but nothing else.
Wasn't I hit by a car? I remembered my last moment when I ran into the road, my vision blurred with tears. I gripped my hair, crying.
Why does God hate me? Why won't he just let me die? What use am I, just suffering?
I sobbed, trying to calm my breath. I wanted to see my mom, to apologize. I tried to escape this hellish world but still lived.
Maybe this is my punishment.
I pushed to the edge of the bed. My legs touched the ground and I tested my movement.
They didn't hurt. Except for my head, my body didn't hurt at all. It felt like I had grown taller.
There were no mirrors to confirm, so I pushed forward toward the door. My head throbbed, more painful. I stopped at the door.
"Argh, my head." I staggered, and someone supported me before my knees buckled. A nurse.
"Come on, you." She guided me back to my bed. "You shouldn't be walking around." Her voice was soft, soothing. She helped me and lowered me to the bed. "The hit to your head was severe. So pls stay put."
That was the only thing she said. It made me wonder: what about my legs, my arms? Didn't I break any of them?
She checked some things on me my vitals and then moved out of the ward.
"Nurse," I said calmly, but my heart was still troubled. "Please, can I call my mom?"
She smiled and nodded. "Sure. But your wife is already here. Let me inform her you've regained consciousness."
My eyes narrowed. My wife? But the nurse had already left the room before I could ask what she meant. I didn't have a wife. I was just twenty. How can I have a wife?
I shifted my posture, resting my back well. I looked down at my hands. They were different. Weren't mine. Just looking at my hands reminded me of my father, his fist meeting with my cheek. I tightened my eyes shut What's happening to me?
Then I heard a knock at the door. My eyes snapped up. The nurse, she had returned, with my wife? But the moment she stepped in, her face, her auburn hair that was my mom. Tears dropped to the sheet. Mom!
I squeezed the sheet tighter, relieved at least to see her. The nurse left, leaving both of us alone.
She sat down far away from me, her hands crossed, like she feared me or was angry with me.
My lips trembled the words refusing to come of. "Mom... I'm sorry." I finally gained the courage.
She gave a dry laugh. "Looks like the accident affected you, Jacob. I'm not your mom." Jacob? My name wasn't Jacob. That was my dad's name.
Her eyes became watery, like she was about to cry.
"The boy..." Her voice cracked. "My only son. We had you... you killed him." Tears ran down her cheeks. I watched my mother cry. What was she saying? What did she mean? I didn't kill anybody. I'm here. Why is she talking to me like that?
"What's happening to me?" I asked. My heart raced. My palms looked like his. The nurse called my mom my wife. Now my mom is treating me differently. I laid my hands on my chest. My breath heaved.
I wasn't strong enough to admit it. I got up from the bed and moved outside my ward. My mom buried her head, crying.
I staggered down the hallway moving to the restroom.
A nurse noticed me. She moved to my side, escorting me to the restroom. I went in by myself. My head felt heavy, like sirens ringing in my head non-stop. I moved to the mirror, my eyes down. I didn't want to look in the mirror. What if it really happened? No, it can't be.
I took a deep breathe and looked at the mirror. My heart felt like it skipped a beat. My hands trembled. My head throbbed, more painful. This can't be, I said to myself. I paced around the toilet. How is this possible? I looked at the mirror. It wasn't my face, but my dad's.