PROPOSAL I

My feet tapped softly on the floor at a rhymed pace as I ran as hard as I could to the point where I thought my legs couldn't support me anymore. All I could hear was her shaky voice, even with the loud honking from cars that drove past the walk-through and the wind that made a whistling sound as it blew past my ears. The same shaky voice she always had when she was dumbstruck about an incident.

As the wind blew through my hair, pushing back the strands from my face, it felt like it slowed me down, yet, with every second that went by I could feel the soreness of my feet. But, it didn't matter to me that my feet were sore, that was the least of my worries now.

The only thing that mattered now was the information my mum conveyed to me earlier about my Dad. I didn't hear the whole story cause my phone ran out of battery before she could finish, but I wasn't dumb to fix the puzzle from the little piece of information I was given.

No! I shouldn't jump to any conclusions yet. There's no way those monsters could have taken my dad away when it's just been a few hours past the time limit. But why do my intuitions say otherwise?

Why does it sing to my ears that something disastrous has taken place?

Why can't I put those silly thoughts about those bastards doing something bad to my father away?

My father had just been released from the hospital a couple of months ago, after undergoing surgery for his heart disease which almost claimed his life. He was still recovering.

The tears that threatened to fall from my eyes rolled down my cheeks like an unending stream of river as the thought that they were torturing my father flooded my head.

Thinking back at my first encounter with those debt collectors still brought chills to my spine, mainly because they existed without a human conscience. I have witnessed a sneak peek of how they tortured debtors - like criminals whose lives could be taken away without dismay.

The feeling that my father would be treated that way, brought great pain to my heart. Even if he is a debtor, no one should be treated that way, no one deserved to even be treated that way.

My eyes became blurry from the tears that welled in them, and I came to an abrupt stop when one of my feet scrambled against a stone. Looking down at my leg which I paid minimum attention to because of the important situation that had all my attention, I lifted it as I bent my head to get a better view of it. The immense pain I felt got me sitting on the cold floor as I tended to my injured foot.

With the impact of the force my foot scurried against the stone, I almost dislocated my ankle, my only savior being the sneakers I wore. I winced in pain as I held the foot that was injured to my chest, still sitting on the floor.

The situation I had at hand right now demanded my presence at home, so I tried to get back up on my feet to continue my journey. I stood with my other foot on the floor, placing my injured leg gently so I could walk, but the pain became unbearable with my little action, and I fell back to the floor when I couldn't endure anymore.

My eyes stung from holding back my tears as I stared at my foot, and I wanted to yell for help, but instinctively, I swallowed my words when I looked around and saw no one.

I've lived long enough in this neighborhood to know that in this kind of situation, even if you were to scream your guts out, no one would come around to tend to you. Instead, they will peep through their windows, or double-check the lock on their doors just to make sure there was no way for an intruder to get in.

I wouldn't blame them though. Living in an environment which was like mine, you had to have a good sense of security, especially when burglars always invaded almost every hour a day.

The night breeze that constantly blew through my hair, sending shivers down my uncovered bare skin wasn't helping with the whole situation, but rather, added more to my nervousness as I started feeling cold.

I could hear the loud cry of the crickets, and for some weird reason, the sounds from the crickets made me more nervous, not because of the situation at home, but for security purposes.

I only noticed how quiet and lonely the street was now that I was injured and couldn't move anymore. As I looked ahead at my supposed destination, I could see my home faintly because of the lights that reflected from the front porch. That view gave me just the right strength I needed to get back on my feet.

Pushing myself forward with the help of my hands which I placed beside me on the floor, I stood again with my good feet, and gently placed my injured one on the floor. With that, I leaped carefully, making sure not to overstep it on the floor to avoid putting too much weight on it.

Even if I still felt a great deal of pain from my sprained leg as I leaped, the thought of my mother and brother being harmed was more important, and my major worry right now. As I leaped through the lonely street, my eyes continuously darted backward, and at the buildings beside the narrow path I took.

It felt like I was being followed, and I could feel my blood rise to my throat, but I calmed myself down with the thought that I may be imagining things. Well, who wouldn't feel the way I was feeling now if they were in a lonely place like this?

Slowly, the distance between me and my home was covered. I could see my home more clearly than when I was sitting on the floor. The building isn't really big like most houses on the street, but it sheltered my family, so I considered it nothing less than home.

And even if I've only lived here for a year, and have been living in a mansion since childbirth, I've learned to adapt to this environment.

Well, I guess what they say is true. A home isn't a building, but your family is what makes it up.

The more I leaped further, the more I realized that the door of my home was widely opened, and I leaped even faster at that sight. I stopped breathing as I felt my heart jump to my throat when I saw how widely opened the front door of the building was.

As I leaped unto the front porch, I dragged my injured feet in midair, climbing the few stairs with my other good leg. I could feel my heartbeat increase even more as I entered my home which was scattered, with some of our properties thrown on the floor.

I took deep breaths, trying hard to steady my breathing which was now rapid, and as I slowly leaped inside the dimly lit house whose only source of light came from the one on the front porch, coupled with the fact that it was dead silent, I felt my limbs weaken. It felt like I was having a dreadful nightmare, and I had to blink a couple of times to get over that delusion.

I leaped slower using the wall as my support, and I tried hard to avoid the scattered things on the floor. My slightly shaking hands scoured the wall, looking for the light switch in the house. I couldn't use my phone's torch cause I ran out of battery during my mum's call. When I found it, I switched it on and my eyes widened at the view in front of me.

The whole place was trashed; there were scattered pieces of glass on the floor, and the pillows of the couch were tossed to the floor, including our family photos which were hung on the cabinet in the living room, alongside some other furniture. As I tried to process whatever happened here, my mind suddenly went to the two most important people in my life who I should be more concerned about; my mum and my little brother who I couldn't seem to find.

I was about to scream their names when I heard tiny sobs coming from behind the couch. The voice sounded familiar, and I didn't need to be told who it was coming from. I leaped further into the living room, trying hard to be mindful of the scattered pieces of glass that lay around the living room, and just as I had imagined as I leaped behind the couch, my mum sat there with trails of tears on her face.

My heart clenched in pain at that sight, and I quickly knelt beside her, cuddling her in my warm embrace. It was my little gesture that made her aware of my presence, and she raised her face to meet my saddened eyes.

Her icy blue eyes which were reddened from the consistent tear shed peered into mine, and I frowned on seeing how sad they looked.

"Aby dear, they took him away... They took your father away." Her words came in almost a whisper as she leaned in to embrace me even more. The tears which I fought hard to contain welled in my eyes and I could feel different emotions running through me; anger, for those bastards that inflicted this amount of pain on my family, fear, for what they could do to my father, and sadness.

Unable to control the emotions that I felt, I let go of all my self-control, and the tears rolled down my cheeks. I was so bitter, but my emotion was nothing compared to what my mother felt. She looked like she had given up on life, and that weakened me.