Boklit

How I Proposed to Kill my Dad

There was no new, good, and high expectation from our father. There was nothing for us we may call cool stuff from dad. I don’t remember him bringing something home for the kids, except for new wooden rod or staff to use for his disciplinary actions to those who disobey him. My dad never came home with new clothes, new shoes, or bunch of food and toys for us. All he has for us was a drunk and loud father at night.

It is very obvious already that our life growing up was a cycle of the same circumstances. We live our lives with the same anger, cursing, and yelling every day and night. It was indeed a home of non-stop swearing, and the same time a home filled with hatred and fighting. The most miserable place to live in and it was a little hell on earth. It was a wrestling or boxing ring because we always wrestle with the demons, with our dad, and all the evil that was happening inside the house.

One night, dad came home drunk. My mom was waiting for him only to end up the night in disgusts and misery. But it was different that night. We were all sleeping like there was no tomorrow until we were awakened by our parents fighting and heated argument. I got up and peek at the small hole in our wall. Our house had holes everywhere from top to bottom. If I will describe our home or name it, I would call it the wrestling ring plenty of holes for its spectators—us. I heard them yelling at each other. When I checked, I saw my mom trying to pick up her sweater, and she was crying hard. I saw mom stepped out of our house, and she ran out running in disgust, and I can see her disappointment and anger while she was crying. I heard her shouted to my dad; “I am leaving!” To describe their relationship in a very vulgar way, it was terrible and unbelievable for them to be together that long and have eleven children. Even if we have everything inside the house, and millions of dollars scattered on the floor for our disposal (which obviously we don’t), I would still prefer to be homeless. I would rather sleep in the park or by the side walk and felt the love, care, and understanding of my father than be with him in a mansion with his abuse.

As mom got out of the house, I ran after her as I was crying and yelling at her; “Mom, come back!” I stopped and cried and shouted louder. I was at the ground kneeling, and then I stood up, and I jumped, and I lied down on the ground, and cried and shout to the top of my voice. I looked at mom’s legs like it just kept on going faster and faster. I can still feel the rushed of her feet and the movement of her legs and feet while trying to run away from home and running after my mother. I shouted once more; “Mom please don’t leave us!” I cried the more, and I saw mom looked back. This time I plead; “Mom, please I want to come with you. I want to be with you.” Mother stopped, walked towards me and picked my hands up, hold it tight, and then she said; “Come with me” as tears flows down her face. We walked and walked like it was just an endless walk for mom because she can’t figure out, and she did not know where to go and what to do. I asked; “Mom, where are we going?” If I’m not mistaken, it could have been about 2:00 am. Dad’s time of coming home would usually be at around 11:00 pm to 1:00 in the morning. We end up in Bacolod Lagoon just in front of Provincial Capitol. I still see the spot where we sat when Director Vic Tiro and I visited the place when we were looking for location for the filming of my story.

In that place while mom was seated and crying, I remember asking mom a very surprising question. I know she did not expect me to ask her that question because I was just in fourth grade. I asked her; “How about if I will just kill dad, so your problem will be finish, and no one will be mean at you, and no one will beat me up?” My mom looked at me in wonder like she was in unbelief. I continued; “My siblings will not be beaten up, too.” I took out my weapon and showed it to her. That very early morning, mom put her arms around me and embraced me tightly, and I can feel her tears touching my face. I felt so much love that early morning.