Mark feels a cold touch on his skin at the time of dawn. His semi-wake consciousness refuses him to get out of bed, but neither to go back to sleep. He just lies there, not wanting to get out of the comforts which he already has.
“Good morning, ma. I hope you’re well there in Heaven. I will wait until I will see you again, ma. Until the Lord of my life calls me home.”
He dreamt this night the same dream as before, with the girl that he likes but doesn’t like him back. Where they sat side by side at the peaceful, and somewhat busy, park in Toledo City. He saw himself with his arm over her shoulders when she said, “I love you, Mark Mercado.” And a voice out of nowhere said, “Prophesy. Samantha will be your wife.”
He ponders the dream as he lay there facing the ceiling.
‘How ironic. God telling me that Samantha will be my wife when she and Cesar are madly in love.’
He closes his eyes, clasps his hands, and says, “Lord. If this is from you, then your will be done. Be it unto me according to your word. Act, Lord, according to what you have said.”
Mark finally finds the strength to get out of bed. He grabs his phone and opens a bible app.
‘Dang, I can’t believe the Old Testament is so brutal. Thank God we’re in the New Testament now. No one would survive if all was the same as the Old. Imagine that you would get killed if someone, or even close to you, entice you to worship other gods other than the Lord. In hindsight, people who worshipped these gods killed children and have wild orgies to please them.’
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After reading the Bible, he puts his phone down on the shelf beside the bed and stands up. He folds his blanket and fixes his bed.
Then Mark reads a book which is called, “Truly, Madly, Deeply” by Karen Kingsbury. Mark reads it somberly as he goes through the pages of the book.
‘I can’t believe the experience the Americans went through during 9/11. But amid darkness, there’s still someone who would cast a glimmering light, there’s always something good in this world. There are still heroes.’
Mark puts down the book and puts it on the shelf. He gets out of the room and climbs out the stairs towards the dining room. There he meets his dad preparing their meal for the day. Their eyes meet and George shows him the meal with a gesture from his hand.
“There you go, kiddo,” George says in a wearisome tone. “I’m gonna go to work now, eat up.”
“Thank you, dad,” Mark says while averting his eyes from his dad.
George draws near to his son and pats his head.
“Good boy,” George says with a smile. He puts his hand down by his side and starts going to the door. Their eyes meet again when he’s about to go out as he slightly opens the door. “If you want to go out with your friends, lock this door and bring the key with you. I have the other key so there will be no problem if you didn’t go home before I do.” He waves his hand at his hand with a smile and says, “Bye, kiddo.”
Mark waves his hand with a smile and says, “Bye, dad.”
George goes out the door and rides in the car towards work while Mark is left in the house, alone.
Mark proceeds to scoop some rice on his plate with some ground pork mixed in it. He lays the plate on the table and sits on the chair. He bows his head and clasps his hands afterwards.
“Lord, thank you for the food. I bless you, Lord.”
As he is about to say Amen, something or someone tugs his heart.
“Pray for your father,” the voice says. “Pray that he will come back to me.”
Mark is silent but manages to muster the courage to speak.
‘Yes, Lord. I will,’ Mark thinks.
“Lord, bring my dad back to you. Move his heart to repent and return to your loving arms. Please make him not drink alcohol anymore. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”