There are times when everything seems to head into the good direction. That the path that your life is taking is just a straight road. There might be bumps ahead but not so big to shake your whole life. You don't really do anything. It's just how it's laid out for you. How things are supposed to go for you.

They tell you a lot of things. People tell you to cherish everything you have and be good always. They tell you a lot of things. They give you a lot of advice.

But there's one thing they haven't told you.

It's that no matter how good you are, how careful you are, there are just times when the gods will get bored and pick on a human on random. It's like they have this big roulette where they spin it and it just so happens that you're the one that gets picked.

And the road where it only used to have a few bumps are now downright dangerous.

Just one slip and everything is over.

You don't believe me?

Or you just don't want to believe me?

Well, want it or not, it's true.

It happened to others.

And it happened to me.

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It was a warm night. Warm enough that you wont shiver while sleeping or wont sweat buckets. Just warm enough to sleep comfortably that you're journey to the land of dreams will be a pleasant one.

It's a pleasant evening. But it feels like the night is mocking me.

I was hiding, peeking in the crack left by the unclosed door. Inside the kitchen was my godmother and godfather. The only people I consider my family except for my father and mother. They were sitting side by side on the kitchen chairs and they were talking in whispers. They both had sadness and worry in their faces. My godmother's eyes were red and a bit swollen like she had been crying recently. Despair emanated from their forms.

In my six year old mind, I knew something had happened.

It was just the three of us in the house. My parents had left earlier to go to the market and buy some groceries and my godparents had volunteered to look after me and the house while they were away. My parents had said that they would be back by lunch but the sun had already fallen and the moon had risen but I have never even seen their shadows.

Earlier, while we were having lunch, someone had frantically pounded on the door. The three of us had stopped midway in eating and looked at each other. A second later, my godfather got up and went outside the kitchen to answer the door. When my godfather took a bit longer, my godmother told me to stay and continue eating as she stood up and went outside. So, I continued eating. I was about to bite into my chicken when I heard a distraught shout from my godmother and then sobbing seconds later.

Curios, I placed down my spoon and fork and got up and went outside. I was in the hallway and on the front door, there were three people. My godmother was on the floor on her knees and she was crying while my godfather was hugging her. And there was another man, and if I remember correctly, he was the owner of that pub or something in the market. He was also a good friend of my parents and he was always good to me too. I once tried to go to his pub but he said that kids weren't allowed in there. He said that while laughing and he was smiling but I felt like he was hiding something from me.

I just stood there, looking at them. Even though I understand a lot of things for a six year old kid, I could not comprehend this one. Why was my godmother who was always smiling and cheerful crying sorrowfully? Why does my godfather looks like he's holding his tears? Why is the other man's face painted in despair?

Why...why do I feel so uneasy?

A few second later, my godfather raised his head and saw me. His eyes widened, worry and pity pooling in his eyes.

I just stood there and stared at him, trying to understand what was the meaning of the situation in front of me. My godfather stood up and went towards me. I maintained eye contact with my godfather until he was standing in front of me. I was going to speak up and ask him when he picked me up and hugged me. I closed my mouth and tried again to process what was happening. His breathing hitched then he pulled me back a bit to look at me.

We just stared at each other. Normally, I would have laughed and tried to make funny faces with him like we always do but right now, I knew this was something serious even though I don't understand what's happening. A few minutes passed like that between us then he started walking towards the living room while carrying me.

He placed me on the sofa and knelt in front of me. We stared at each other for a few seconds and then he smiled. But not his usual gentle smiles. His smile was forced and there was hesitation in it. Instead of a smile, it looked more like a grimace.

"Cerise...your...your parents....your parents are gonna be l-late going home today. So, uh...after you finish eating why don't you go outside and play?" He said.

I suspected that he was hiding something from me and the part about my parents sounded like a lie. But I didn't felt like he was lying to me to hurt me so I nodded and went straight to the kitchen and finished my food while  he went back and continued whatever they were doing there.

I didn't know how much time it will take when people said that they'll be late but I think its just for a few minutes so instead of playing outside, I stayed in my room and read books, trying to calm down the panic that was struggling to burst out of my system.

I have always been good at tricking myself and making the treacherous feeling of panic sleep but this time my system refused to be tricked and insisted that something was really, really wrong. I couldn't calm down. My hands refused to stop shaking. The irrational part of me kept on screaming that something was wrong. Something was wrong. SOMETHING WAS WRONG.

I was barely able to hang on to my rational part of mind. I was able to reason out with myself before I could start screaming my head off. I appeared to be calm but my heart was pounding, my mind creating hundreds of scenarios and situations per second.

But I still forced myself to stay in my room and just be rational. The house stayed quite and I never made a sound, afraid to destroy whatever was keeping the peace together that was barely holding on. And during the times that I waited, I kept on praying. I kept on praying, begging to the gods that I believed in to please keep my parents safe. To please don't hurt them. To please please please just keep them alive and well I promise I will never do anything bad I will never do anything wrong so please this will be the only thing that I will ever ask so please please please please.

I stayed on my knees with my hands clasped together until my godmother came and knocked on my door to say that dinner was ready. And again, it was the same strained smiles ans despair hanging over us. They said that my parents were gonna be a bit more late and when I heard the hitch in my godmother's breath and I saw the red around my godfather's eyes, I knew I had to know. They were keeping it from me for reasons I don't know but I knew it was for my own good but still, I needed to know. If I stayed floating in the dark any longer, I was going to go insane.

So I did.

And that's how I ended up in this situation. Peeking behind a door, breathing softly, and trying to stop myself from shivering not because it was cold, because it wasn't, but because of the fear. Because of the insanity that was almost bursting out of my system.

"How...how are we going to tell Cerise...about her parents...?"

"I worry about that too. But we can't tell her yet. She's only a child. We can't just tell her that her parents are...that they're dead."

My head felt light and swollen at the same time. It was like cold air was filling my head and making my emotions numb. And it seems like during that time, an important part in my lungs combusted and made my lungs malfunction and made it impossible to pump oxygen in my body. I was taking in fast and shallow breaths, trying to compensate for the lack of oxygen in my body but it wasn't working. I felt my chest tighten, my consciousness starting to leave my body and dark spots started to appear at the edge of my sight.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

When the dark spots cleared out seconds later, I was laying on the cold floor of the hallway and my godparents were crouching beside me. They were calling out my name and lightly shaking me at the same time.

I stood up suddenly, knocking them back but I didn't helped them and just stood there, looking at them. My godfather was about to ask me why I suddenly did that when he saw the look on my face and knew.

"...How long were you standing outside the door?" My godmother asked.

"Long enough." I answered, no emotion in my voice and numbness surrounding my heart.

They stared at me while I stared at nothing. A few seconds later, they both hugged me. My godfather rubbed my back while my godmother hugged me tighter and silently cried. But I remained staring into nothing. I didn't felt any sadness or despair. I felt nothing but emptiness.

Something important was stolen from the center of my being and now, without it, I was starting to malfunction.

I was broken.

What happened for the next few days was melded together in a jumble of mess. They said that my parents were murdered on their way home and were dragged behind some crates resulting to them dying even though there was a chance that they could have lived. A lot of people who were good friends with my parents came and gave their respects and words of comfort. My godparents took care of everything. Days later, they were buried. Two months had passed and my godmother was able to slightly smile again and my godfather could somehow joke around again.

But the emptiness still stayed with me.

I was still numb.

I lived for the past two months like that. Silent, emotionless, broken. I thought I would continue living with the numbness surrounding my heart. I thought I would live on and die with the numbness as my companion. And to be honest, it wasn't such a bad companion. So I became friendly with the numbness inside me, preparing myself for the path that I was headed to.

That's what I thought until a certain day came. I was inside my room, folding my clothes. I was having trouble on how to fold the sleeves when I remembered a method on how to do it. As I was in the middle of the process, I suddenly remembered who taught it to me. The memory sucker punched me and I had trouble breathing as the memories flowed in agonizingly slow. Burning my mind as it flowed through.

It was a day after I turned six, and me, claiming that I was old enough to fold my own clothes, stubbornly refused help on how to do it even though everything I did was clearly wrong. I kept on repeating it until I surrendered and my mother came into the rescue. She sat down beside me and showed me how, all the while smiling gently at me. After I did it right myself, I proudly showed it to her and she smiled at me again. Then my father came in and I both showed them the perfectly folded shirt, proudly smiling at them. The three of us smiled and laughed together.

It was afternoon, the light was streaming through my window and dust particles floated in the air and sparkled as the light hit them, making everything look like it was covered in gold. Burning the image in my mind, forever branded as one of the memories that I love so much.

As the memory stopped repeating, I came again to reality only to realize that my cheeks were wet. My eyes widened. I...I was...crying. Slowly, pain blossomed in my chest. I wasn't injured but the pain steadily spread until it covered my whole heart. It hurts so much that my hands were shaking. Tears steadily flowed and sobs wracked my body as I struggled to open the buttons on my shirt and touched my chest. I looked at my hand again but there as no blood on it and my chest looked fine. No bruises, no cuts, no nothing. It hurt so much but I couldn't see any wounds.

I didn't understand what was happening. The pain was much more worse than all the pain that I have felt before. Falling off a tree or cutting yourself with a knife couldn't hold a candle to it. Invisible knives hacked my chest as I doubled over because of the pain.

I laid there, clutching my chest as I cried out every time the pain attacked me.

My godmother found me like that, curled up on the floor, clothes scattered around me as I desperately clutched my chest, hoping that somehow, the pain would lessen if I squeezed it enough.

"Cerise! What happened?!" My godmother asked as she frantically looked over me, looking for wounds.

"It-it hurts!" I cried out desperately.

"What? Where? Where does it hurt?!"

"H-here! It hurts here!" I answered and clutched my chest tighter.

She looked at my chest and then suddenly, sadness filled her eyes and without warning, she hugged me.

"Cerise, it's okay to cry. Losing the people you love hurts. You don't have to act  like you don't feel anything. I know that you know what I mean. Don't worry. We will still love you no matter what."

My tears flowed faster as the truth displayed itself in front of me in painful clarity. I knew that they would not change just because I cried. But I tricked myself into not feeling anything. I had realized then when the numbness started to disappear that the pain would come and I would be forced to feel it. So, trying to protect myself from the inevitable pain, I made myself believe that I could not understand what was happening and I forced it into my mind that I was numb, that I didn't feel anything. I think along the way, I had believed my lie and had forgotten the truth.

And that day, for the first time in my life, I screamed.

After that, I slowly came back to my old self. Though some part of me never did function the way it did before, it still continued to work and I had returned to my old self. Slightly cracked but still the same. Within two weeks I could smile and laugh again. I was back.

We had to sell my old house and I came to live with my godparents. And since they did not have a child, I became one. It hurt at first, slipping and accidentally speaking out my parents names felt like I had dipped my hand in a bowl of acid thinking it was water. But slowly, I got past choking on my tears after every time I spoke their name until I was able to fondly speak of their name with warm nostalgia in my voice.  

I was happy again with my new family.

But as always, I was stupid thinking that It would last.

Two years after my parents death, my godparents followed them.

It was just like the night I learned that my parents died. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining up in the sky but it wasn't hot, a breeze would pass by every few seconds or so, making us feel pretty cool, we were at the market, everything around us was bustling with life and everyone was friendly. It was a very, very beautiful day.

I should've known that it was the calm before the storm.

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Annnnnddddd I'll be ending it there!!! haha XD

So uh, before you throw your hate at me, I really apologize for this chapter taking so long. My first reason is that we went to boracay for a vacation and I thought that I'll finish this chapter there but then I struggled there because I couldn't find any decent wifi there. Seriously, almost all of the wifi there was as slow as snails and it truns on and then off. Second is that as soon as we got back, life threw its shit at me and I had a hard time emerging from the shit. And third is that I got lazy. Yeah sorry. (don't kill me)

And uh, I'm really sorry if this chapter is very short. But I really think this is long enough haha XD peace!!!

Then, see you next chapter :3

*crab walks away*