Songs Of A Brokenhearted Soul

★The Rough Touch

The Rough Touch

Today's the perfect day to be chilling out, gladly because I have just finished doing all my requirements in school; the mountain of researches, the piles of essays and assignments, all sorts of problematic school stuff.

I extended my feet on the far edge of my assumed sofa, which is a long bamboo chair. I took a last glance over the pile of papers on the table before I took a nap. It was a peaceful afternoon amidst the sultriness the near summer air is bringing. I slept. It was around three-thirty in the afternoon when I woke up, my head spun right after I opened my eyes, everything I see is blurry so I rubbed my eyes to clear my vision. My eyes started to focus and view things clearer, the first thing I check was the mountain of papers on the table. They were fine. I stood up and went to the kitchen to quench my thirst as it's drying my throat. I saw Happy, our black shaggy cat, walking at a corner while swaying its tail. I hear clinking sounds from the other side of the kitchen, I edged near there right after I drank a glass of water, flipping the curtain that divided the area. There, I saw my mother, bending the antique kettle to pour hot water to the cup. She saw me, I closed the curtain to cover my face and quickly ran back to the living room.

"Rebecca, would you like to have a cup of coffee?" She called. I would like to say yes but I intended not to reply, simply because I hated her, I hated her so much for leaving me behind, alone with my abusive aunt and her family. I started hating her right after she stopped sending money, on that day forward the abusive assaults have started, at first it was still verbal, then it intensified into pinches and slaps, one minor mistake is equivalent to a hundred of whips and punches right after one month before it grows worse and worse every day and lasted for a year which feels like a hell of forever. I had thought of suicide to end my suffering but I didn't dare do it.

She left me to work overseas as a domestic helper, but right after a few months, she'd suffered the same fate as I faced.

When she came back, I was at first relieved. I hugged her at my heart's content with eyes falling with endless tears, we faced each other with both faces covered in bruises, no hate that time. But then the rage developed to grow back when my mother had decided not to sue my aunt for her crimes. I yelled at her and did not talk to her since but she remained a loving mother towards me, living me all by herself as a housemaid. I slouched on the chair. She comes out from the kitchen bringing two cups with her. I pretended to be reading my essays as I saw her placed the cup of coffee right beside the pile of papers silently then she walks back to the kitchen sipping her coffee. I was intrigued in reading the essay I wrote that I was so fixated on it. And out from the corner of my eye, I saw Happy jumping to the table, lunging itself to the cup of coffee and spilling its contents directly right to the papers I've worked so hard for two almost sleepless weeks.

"OH, NO HAPPY!!!" I pushed the cat away from the table and quickly pull the cup back with the hope of not spilling all of its contents to the papers but I failed, too late, my printed papers were soaked in brown coffee stains. I attempted to salvage some from the bottom but none seem was likable to be saved. My mother dashed to the crime scene which just exploded my rage.

"What happened?" She asked me like she was oblivious about the scene flashed before her eyes.

"COULDN'T YOU SEE THAT?! ARE YOU BLIND! THAT STUPID COFFEE YOU MADE WHICH I DIDN'T EVEN ASK OF RUINED MY ASSIGNMENTS! IT'S JUST LIKE YOU RUINING MY FUTURE, WHICH YOU ALREADY DID, I HAD STOPPED SCHOOLING FOR A YEAR BECAUSE OF THAT BRUTALITY YOU HAD CAUSED." Tears ran down from my eyes as I yelled at her. Then she solemnly reached her hand to hold mine, I slapped her hand away, but she attempted to hold my hand again this time she succeeded. Her calloused hand was warm, she began wrapping my hands with hers, shielding them like they were a delicate object.

"You know what Rebecca," her sincere and soft voice started, her eyes were watery. "There isn't a day I've regretted because of what I did to you, for leaving you. You'll never know how much I've prayed every day, wishing to bring back the time, wishing I were there when you needed me most, wishing I were there to protect you and defend you. If I were just there with you all the time, you'll never be bitter and cold towards me."

"But you weren't there. Your wishes could do nothing now, or even then. Your apologies won't erase the wounds that even now are still fresh, frightened to become scars unlike yours which now have grown into scales." I hissed loathsomely and pushed her hands away. I ran into my room and locked it, I grabbed my phone and my earphones, scanned the hardest rock type of music in my music library and listened to it which isn't my type of genre. The loud thuds from her knocks were evidence that she's calling me from the other side of the door. After about an hour of listening to the same song of Linkin Park's, In the End, I have decided to go out to reprint those papers. I scanned my cabinet to look for my hidden chest in which I save money to buy a graduation gift for myself, I counted the money which is just enough to reprint all those papers.

I went out, I didn't notice my mother around so I proceeded. The sky is starting to darken. I walked the narrow alley between houses and finally get myself to the dirt road, no vehicle seems to be passing by so I crossed the road with the earphones still attached in my ears, the, In the End, was playing loudly. When I reached the middle of the road someone pushed me so hard that I stumbled over the mound of dirt. My dress dirty, blood trailed from my left knee from being scraped on a sharp stone. I removed the earphones in my ears, loud grunts from the rushing motorcycle met my sense of hearing as it dashed away leaving me and a woman, my eyes widened, blood pooled on the road, the woman was lying on her back. I moved closer towards her and lifted her head, my eyes grew wider, my body grew numb. The woman who pushed me was my mother, saving me from being side-swept by a motorcycle. Tears started dropping from my eyes, all my anger towards her melted in a flash. Her face was so solemn and worried at the same time. She attempted to reach her hand to my face but she failed so I grabbed her hand and let it touched my cheek, the touch was rough, but I ignored it.

"I'm so sorry for not being a good mother," she managed to speak despite her spitting blood.

"I'm sorry Ma, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I muttered over and over that I forgot to call for help.

For four years, till the earliest moments, I have resented my mother. But from this very moment, regret knocked my heart, but it was too late, too late for redeeming myself back to her. Oh, how I wish to bring back time, but just as I said, 'Wishes could do nothing now.' I wept, hugging my mother like the day she returned to me, hugging her tightly like the day we've met back then, but today would be the last we'll see each other and would be hugging like this.