Unlike all those other nights, the moon and the stars are nowhere to be found. The sky is pitch black, the kind of night you only find in nature like you were in deep mountain caves. But I am here again, on this rooftop. It became my habit to go here every night. Somehow it makes me feel that I have nothing to worry about. That I am safe and not in trouble.
Another thing that I looked forward to is Mr. Gray. He has been with me almost every night, too, but he comes very late. I am sometimes ready to leave when he arrives, but I always stay. This rooftop became our talking place where the line that defines a student and a teacher doesn't exist—the place where we started sharing stories about ourselves. I was surprised the first time when Mr. Gray asked me why I came here every night. I didn't know what to say because I felt it was ridiculous that I didn't know the answer or was not ready to say it. But I knew staying here and talking to him helped ease my thoughts.
We stayed and talked about everything until we were sleepy, and one decided to go. But during the day, when we were at the university, we didn't talk about it. Not that it was a secret, but it was something I didn't want to bring up every time we were together, and I know he feels the same. It was like not wanting to make trouble or having to deal with it. So, this was our time to talk to each other. This was the only time we really were ourselves.
"The night is so dark. Doesn't it creep you out?" It is Mr.Gray. Like the other times, it's again eleven o'clock in the evening, the usual time that he came.
"No, sir. I seem to like it," I said without turning around.
"But why aren't you going near the edge?" he asked.
I looked at him and took a few steps forward, "because you are not here yet. No one would stop me from jumping," I said playfully.
He laughed, "Yeah, good choice," He came near me as we both went near the edge.
We found ourselves leaning on the railings. As usual, the place was comfortably quiet. The wind feels colder than usual, damp, and I can feel the chill. I blamed myself in my thoughts for not bringing my hoodie.
" Are you feeling cold?" he asked.
"No, it's fine," I said.
"I think it's gonna rain soon," he said, looking up at the black sky.
"Why do you say so?"
"The wind. It's whispering and it's wet."
"You felt that?" I asked, looking at him, but I couldn't see his face clearly. It was too dark.
"Yeah, I used to play in the rain back when I was a child in the province," he said.
I just nod. He was right, I guess.
"What about you? what game do you play when you're a kid?" he asked again
"I didn't like playing," I said blankly, "I was the quiet type who got ignored because I didn't like to play. I was different from the rest of my classmates."
"What about your siblings?" he said plainly, but it seemed like something heavy was dropped inside my stomach. I don't know what to say.
"We don't really talk that much and my father didn't want us to play, he said that it was a waste of time."
He turned to me and said, "that must be sad, being a kid is one thing that a person must enjoy."
"Yeah, but I didn't actually feel it until he left us."
"You mean your father?" he asked.
"No. My brother. He left us," that's all I can say for now.
"Oh, do you want to talk about it?" I'm glad that he always looked for consent before he started asking.
"Maybe not now sir. At least not now," I replied.
"Yeah, sure," as he said that, the wind blew hard, and I could feel tiny droplets of water that rode the wind hitting my face.
"You're right sir, it's raining," I said, but he seemed unbothered. Mr. Gray was just looking afar.
"Shall we go?" he asked shifting his gaze toward me.
"Yeah, I guess we should," then I heard faint tapping coming from the floor, and then the tap became louder and louder. I ran towards the entrance covering my head, but I saw no Mr. Gray was following me. In the dark of the night, only his silhouette was visible from where I stood. He turned to me but did not move. He was just standing still.
The wind was getting stronger, and the rain splattered sideways, hitting the wall of the building4.
"You sure you don't want to play in the rain?" Mr. Gray, who's half shouting now, asked. The wind isn't getting kinder, and the floor starts to have patches of rain puddles.
Mr. Gray was utterly drenched in the rain, but he wasn't planning to move.
"You'll get sick sir!" I shouted.
"No, I won't," he shouted in return. "You should feel it. C'mon it's fun."
"I guess I'll just go," I said, but as I turned around, he seized my arm, dragging me in the rain. The next thing I knew was feeling the cold droplets of water splashing in my head, wetting my clothes.
He was just laughing as he held me back so I won't try to leave. The rain continued with its relentless pouring, and my body gradually adjusted to the cold. Mr. Gray is still holding my hand. Despite the chilled water streaming on us, his hand feels warm.
"Let's dance," he called out loudly as if trying to say something directly to the rain. I can't see his face clearly, but somehow he seems happy. It was the first time I saw him smile like that.
"I don't dance," I said as loudly. And the wind and the rain is getting heavier every minute
"Come on," he persisted as he let go of my hand and started to make silly moves.
He closed our distance and danced around me. I can feel his body heat coming through the rain-drenched clothes. I can't tell if he's really dancing or just moving his feet around. Then he started moving his right leg first and then his left. He does it again, back and forth, back and forth, but this time left-right, up-down making the water splash all around.
I don't know what got into me, but I found myself dancing as well, or should I say, moving my feet, making the puddles of water splash. We danced together in the rain, forgetting the time and not minding the cold. I guess this is what it feels like to play in the rain. After about ten minutes, we stopped dancing and sprawled on the wet flooded floor, we were looking at each other, and we couldn't help but laugh. The rain was getting lighter, but it seemed like it won't stop anytime soon.
"Now you know how it feels?" he said, getting close to me.
"Yeah, it's fun. Thank you," I responded.
"I feel bad that you didn't experience it before," he said.
"Me too. You know what, after I transferred here I often felt like I missed a lot in my past. I always think that growing up with only my parents and my brother is enough but I realize now that it's not. It seems like half of my life went missing and I was trying so hard to reclaim it but it's too late."
He sighed and looked at me, smiling, but I could see the seriousness in his eyes, "I remember one of my professors told me this. Nothing in this life is too late or too early; everything is just the right time. And if you're feeling that you're missing something, maybe it's not the right time yet."
After he said that, he sighed and lay. I did that too. We let the rain splatter on our faces. I suddenly felt nothing but melancholy, and I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what. I closed my eyes and felt the raindrops on my face until it wasn't a drop anymore. I'm starting to sink. I wanted to move but I couldn't. I open my eyes, and all I see is darkness; the only thing I can feel is the cold. I don't know how long I've been sinking, but it was a long time.
Until a warm hand caressed my face, I opened my eyes, and he looked at me with great concern. Then he grabbed me with his arms. I can feel the chill of the rain entering my body, but at the same time, I feel safe.
"Hey, what happened?" he asked directly, looking into my eyes. My heart starts going wild as it beats uncontrollably. I'm lying in his arms; his face is just inches away from mine, and I cannot help but feel my face burning. He looked at me again with his deep space eyes and stopped. I can see sweat or water droplets at the ends of his hair. I felt that it had happened before.
"I... I don't know sir. I just... I can't move," I said.
"It's that dream again, doesn't it?" my eyes widened at what he said. But I didn't answer. Instead, I immediately stood up and decided to go back to my room.
"I... I think we should go back," I said, leaving Mr. Gray still soaking in the rain.
I went straight to take a warm bath, hoping that the hot shower would shake off this feeling that I couldn't seem to identify. The steam created by the hot shower fogs my reflection in the mirror. I wiped it and saw my face. It was like looking at someone who had become a stranger to me.
I forced myself into bed in order not to overthink that feeling. I closed my eyes, and in my mind, I remembered that warm arm holding me when I felt like I was sinking into my endless dream.
#
I open my eyes with the Sunday sun shining directly on my bed, hoping to feel better, but I'm not. My head was pulsating as I made a move. I closed my eyes again and took a deep breath, but it didn't do any help. I stayed like this until I felt hot due to the sunshine completely refracting from my bed.
I want to just stay here in my bed and rest, but I need to go back home to get some of the things I need. And I'm not looking forward to that because I know he'll be there. My father and his new family. I took a deep breath and slowly got up from my bed. I didn't look at my bedside mirror and see the image of my pale skin and puffy eyes.
Without even having breakfast, I went straight to my car and drove towards our house. It took me almost an hour to get there, and the first thing that welcomed me was Yaya Evy, our helper. She has been with us since before I was even born. She's the only one who knew that I was coming today.
"Flavio," I smiled as I heard her say my name wrong again. After all the time I corrected her, she still can't pronounce it, or maybe she did it on purpose, but it's okay.
"Yaya!" I hugged her tight like a child hugging his mother after being separated for a long time. "It's Flavus Yaya," I added.
"Yeah, okay, okay," she said, touching my forehead and neck. "Hey, you're hot, Flavio. Are you feeling fine?" She asked.
"Yes, Yaya I'm fine. I think I'm just exhausted," I said.
"You sure?" She asked again. This time there is a trace of wariness in her voice.
"Yes, don't worry. I'm fine," I assured her, but I felt the opposite. My head was still throbbing, and I felt dizzy whenever I made sudden movements.
"Okay, maybe you're just hungry. Common I prepared tocino. Your favorite," she said, still feeling my neck as she led me inside the house.
I got the tocino, and it was as delicious as always. She paired it with fried rice and freshly brewed coffee. She glanced at me as she put the breakfast on the table, and I knew what she meant.
"Where's he?" I asked.
"Your father? He's in the garden with... With Ma'am Christina and Justine," she said softly.
"They're not eating?"
"They're done. I think they're practicing Justine's poem," Yaya Evy went near me as I gorged the rest of my food.
"Hey, relax, Flavio," she said, handing me water. "You said you're fine?" she added.
"Yes, Yaya, I'm fine," I whispered. My head still beats, and this time, it's like it's getting worse. "I should go to my room," I resumed.
"Okay sure. If you need something just call me okay?"
"Sure, thanks!"
"Oh! Wait, are you staying for the night? I'll prepare your bed."
"No Yaya, I have my class early tomorrow. I'm also going back to the dorm later," I said and went upstairs.
As I walked the hallway, I noticed that our original family picture was no longer on the wall. Instead, the only sign that something was hung there before is the pale rectangular patch below the small hole. I stared at it for a while, trying to remember what it looked like even though I never did forget it. A surge of contented anger seems to build up inside of me.
I went inside my room at the end of the hallway and sat on my bed. I looked around and saw nothing had changed, except that it was more organized now. My books were staked correctly now, and my Marvel action figures are also in perfect line. My room looked more inviting, but at the same time, it became more gloomy.
I closed my eyes and exhaled deeply. I wanted to rest more, but I couldn't. I can still feel that wild beating of my heart when I suddenly remembered Mr. Gray, the very thought of seeing him again makes my heart race.
"You didn't tell me you're going home," I heard my father's voice. I opened one eye and saw him standing with his back facing my door.
I stayed silent, and my eyes relock with the bedside mirror and saw my reflection and immediately closed my eyes.
"Flavus," he said sternly.
"I didn't plan on going home today. I just need to get some things," I said, still not opening my eyes. "I'll return to my dorm later, don't worry."
"You don't have to," he said, making me open my eyes and look at him. "No one's pushing you to do this," he continued.
"I know, but this is what I want," I said, the annoyance building again inside me.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Is this still because of Christina and Justine?" he asked, making me stand up and get my things. I know this conversation wouldn't end well.
"Flavus, I'm still talking to you!" he continued, making me stop in the hallway. I turned back to him.
"It's never about them dad," I said with mock surprise.
"Then what?" he asked.
"It's about you!" I thundered. "Why do I feel like it was all easy for you?"
"Stop!" he shouted. His deep voice echoed in the empty hallway.
"No, dad. It was always like you have moved on so easily, that I sometimes think that you don't care about what happened," unlike his loud voice, I coldly replied.
"Because it was their choice Flavus. They chose to leave us, to leave you and me," he said, cutting me. "I have moved on because I need to."
"Rob killed himself, dad. He hanged himself and mom left us all because of you. And that's not because they have a choice because if they have we wouldn't be in this situation now." I said while tears uncontrollably rolled down my cheeks. "It wasn't because of Tita Christina or Justine. It was all because of you!" I said again while still crying and struggling for breath while trying to keep down the tears.
"Stop it. You don't know what you are talking about!" he repeated. His voice was more stern this time, but I didn't care anymore.
"I know what I'm talking about dad, see, you can't even look at our family picture. That's why you removed it, right?" He didn't answer; instead, he walked toward me and grabbed my collar.
"You think everything was because of me huh?" he said furiously. "Isn't it you who told me that he failed because of that stupid theatre club? Isn't you who always tell me every failure he made in the university and isn't it you who lied about Rob sneaking out that night when the fact is he already hanged himself?"
"That's not true!" I shouted, getting away from his clutch. "He killed himself because of you!"
"How dare you shout at me?"
I was ready to receive his palm, but we heard someone shout.
"Stop it both of you!" It was Yaya. She separated both of us from each other.
I didn't talk or look at her. I was ashamed that she had to see me like that.
"Why are you acting like this?" she asked while glancing alternately at both my father and me.
None of us spoke; I picked up my things and left them. But she grabbed my hand and took me inside my room. I stared at her as she placed the framed picture of the family on my bed.
"There Flavio, I know you're going to look for it that's why I kept it," she said calmly.
Trembling, I let my tears flow down freely. I threw myself on Yaya's shoulder, and there I cried silently. I felt her hands rubbing my back as she hushes me.
"Shhh. Flavio, it's going to be fine soon," she said.
"How, Yaya?" I said, sobbing. "How is it going to be fine? Everyone seems to have moved on except for me."
"That's not true. I also am still in pain and grieving. We all are. It's just we need to still move forward," I can now hear cracks in her voice. "You see Flavus, I've been with your family since your father was still a teenager, and I saw him how he loved your mother and your brother and you. It was not the kind of love that many may expect but I know it was true."
"Then why did it all happen?"
"I don't know," she sighed. "The moment I held your brother's lifeless body, I know that everything would not be easy after that. But I'm not happy seeing you like this."
Guilt enveloped me once again; she was like a second mother to me, and I didn't want to lose her.
"I'm sorry," I sobbed. "I don't want to cause any trouble for you. I'm sorry Yaya," I said while crying.
"Flavio," she said, shedding a tear. "I know, and I want you to find the answers you need. I want you to find your answers so you can find peace."
I broke our hug and looked at her. She wiped her tears as if she did not want me to see her like that.
"How would I do that?" I asked.
"Here, Flavio," she said, placing her palm on my chest. "You can always find your answers here."
"I don't understand," I said exhaustedly.
"Tell me, did you ever visit Rob's grave?" she asked, glancing at the frame.
I paused for a second, not counting the actual burial. I've never been into his grave ever.
"I never did," I said softly. "
"Maybe it's about time," Yaya smiled at me and wiped my tears.
"I don't think I can," I replied.
"You don't have to if you still can't. But it'll feel so much better after you talk to him," she said. "Maybe you'll find the answer you need, if not the answer itself."
I stayed quiet and processed everything she said. It is really hard to think of what happened to my brother, the sudden realizations about him, and how I treated him before his death. I felt guilty, and most of all, I felt ashamed of myself.
I gave her one last hug before I went.
On our way downstairs, I saw Tita Christina holding Justine. She doesn't say anything. She was just looking at me. I nod at her and try to fake a smile, but I still can't.
"I'll talk to your father. Just don't do anything that you'll regret later, okay?" Yaya said while we were walking toward my car. "And here, take this. I know Rob doesn't want flowers, but if it's for me, I'm sure he will like it." she continued handing me the bouquet of flowers she picked from the garden.
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