The 13th Man–Chapter 4

History of First Blood

It’s Sunday. Light flashes in exposing how sleep is overdue than usual. I manage to force my weight up by arching the back. My body is barely recovering from what looked like a 20-floor building fall. I briefly examine any symptoms of last night’s ordeal before facing Lola. I rush to see my reflection. I look different. Maybe squeamish when interrupted by nightmarish thoughts. Fuck! My wrist.. There’s no way to hide this faint dark blotches. There’s a peculiar itch hurling around my palm skin. I run nearly scratching through it. What the hell! Something grayish parked spots are ingrained deep underneath. Must be allergy. Can I get allergies from anxiety? Mind is searching for a miraculous story to weave as I reach through the door when Elena bolted in. I hear violent ranting noises that almost sounded too close the balcony.

“Stay here,” Elena said in rattled whisper.

“What’s happening?” I’m confused.

“Don’t come out. We’d have to leave tonight. Carlos’ parents are outside.” The bastards! I wonder what wicked story did he come up with. I should maybe get some training from him.

Elena went out quietly as if guarding from any tint of hinges sound. I lock in my face as close as possible to the door desperately picking up from gargling phrases. I feel helpless absorbing any sense from her blabbering. There’s puta, whore family, a mistress, will pay.. I give up. The bed is just calling me to sleep off another day of nightmare.

That night, Elena scurried off without warning leading me to a jeepney waiting outside. I’m hypnotized to obey as told. It’s midnight, a perfect timing to sneak away from neighboring collapsed bodies. We only have four packs of both bags and luggage. I’m amused she found a conniving able man to drive us to the station. Tony stares at me dubiously from the side mirror. He’s been delivering milk, I think more than obliged, for God knows how long. We drove through unpolished road scouting houses distance apart. Breeze is colder but has never faltered proud well lighted skies. I breathe it for few seconds without dismay. I’ll never walk through this road again. My thoughts once again collected reasons to what just happened. Why would you hung yourself? Were you haunted by guilt? You should be.. Or am I really cursed?

As soon as we got to the station, Tony loaded two bags while two guys in white logo shirt helped with the rest. I watch the crowd immensely engaged in goodbyes and hellos of long travel. A shadow of two bodies caught in such closeness swindled my sight. No fucking way! I have to distract myself from that thought.

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Abby Mabb

Snarly female. Occasional book reviewer.

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