Chapter 19.3: Come to Me

I had the fright of my life.

Scarier than ghosts, demons and other evil elements combined.

As the weather was too warm and I could not sleep, I decided to soak on the cool water even if it is already midnight. I scooped water with my hands and washed my face with it.

Even if I was already on the tub, I just kept on sweating due to the unusually humid weather.

Tropical weather is just not for me.

Then, I felt something I haven't felt for years. I thought of Bianca. My heart was filled with hope.

I quickly went out of the tub to put my clothes on. On the way to the rack, an unexpected intruder jumped right in front of me. She was our teenage female servant who stalked me all the time.

Mysteriously, she was able to climb the bathroom's window at the second floor.

Growing up, I was told that I would be a lady-killer.

They were wrong.

It turned out that I would be the one being killed by the ladies. I was about to have a heart attack because of this girl.

For a second, I did not know if I will run back to the tub to cover myself or catch her as she was about to fall on the slippery floor. My conscience could not bear a bloodied young lady on the white marble so I chose to hold her back and steady her footing. She slipped from my grasp and her hands travelled down my back. I held her arms before it landed on somewhere...mothers put diapers on in advertisements.

She embraced me and would never let me go.

I did not know what to do.

Even as a man, I felt it was too weird, scary, and humiliating.

"Lady, it is late and we need to wake up early for the chores. Goodnight now." I tried to make her leave without making her feel bad.

"You smell good, Sir." she teased while looking at my whole being. Embarrassed of my nakedness, I covered myself with my hands and was about to turn my back but she held on to my arm to face her. "And, you look like a very handsome angel from heaven."

"Is that so?" I asked absent-mindedly. "Thank you, then."

I looked around, afraid that Bianca might be seeing the extremely embarrassing situation I was trapped in.

"Will you get me a glass of water?" I ordered the girl while leading her towards the door.

Then, shame of all shames, my father barged in. I saw the disgust in his eyes.

"What is going in here?"

My father took a towel and threw it on my face. The girl ran out in fear.

"You have a lot of explaining to do."

He slammed the door shut. I put on my clothes as fast as I could.

I was in haste to look at all doors in our house to see if Bianca is really in there.

Before I could even leave the bathroom, a loud thud was heard on the cabinet. I proceeded to open it and I was right, she is in there.

"Please don't get mad at me. I don't even know why I'm here. Honest!"

"Bianca?"

She slowly opened her eyes and looked at me. She looked just the same when I left her--a thirteen year old girl. That was her astral form at that moment.

"Sir, why do you know my name?"

She shifted on the other side of the cabinet, away from me.

"It's alright. Don't worry, I am not mad." I assured her.

She sat and relaxed. I knew that she is trying to read me. She is a sensitive person and is good in knowing those with good or bad aura.

"Your eyes remind me of someone." she stated. Her tone was sad. "He is my bestfriend, Anthony. His are lighter in color, though."

I was relieved. At least, she never forgot that part of me as her friend.

"Come out. Let me take you to somewhere more comfortable."

She slowly crawled out and stood up.

"That girl, is she your girlfriend?" she began questioning me. Her cheeks turned red with her inquiry. "She likes you a lot...I can't blame her..."

"No." I replied in an instant. "That was nothing."

"Nothing? I don't believe you! She looks at you like you are a midnight snack!"

She giggled.

I inhaled deeply.

I hoped and prayed that she haven't seen something in me that a thirteen year old should not see.

"Is this your bathroom? It looks like another house to me. Just..beautiful."

She shifted her attention at the tub.

"Can I check that out?" She pointed.

I nodded. She ran to it.

"This tub is like a minipool. Like, wow!" She was amazed. She went back to me and smiled sweetly. "Have we seen before? You really look like a nice person to me."

I would have to start the process of reminding her about "me" again.

It is all worth it.

She was friendlier and would follow me anywhere. Since I was the only one who can see her, there were times that she would secretly sneak on me during our hunting sprees.

I did not want her to see those gruesome and evil things that happen beyond human imagination. I needed to hold back and come out with excuses to my fellow hunters that I could not come with them whenever she is around. From diarrhea to other invented illnesses, I must convince them that I was disabled at the moment.

She seemed to enjoy my stories about the paranormal. I asked her if she was still being haunted.

"Sometimes. I learned to manage. Now, they are scared of me. I will surely make them burn in hell! " she declared with so much pride and angst. "I was trained well by my brothers who serve in the military. I know guns, knives..some ammunition, you know."

I shuddered. I never expected that she would turn out to be such a toughie. She grew up to be a very dangerous lady that no one should mess up with.

Two years after, my father got terminally ill. He just came home one night, after a hunting spree, with a bad cough. The morning after, he was coughing blood. A fit and strong man like him was unlikely to be ill so quickly but it did happen. He was a doctor himself and knew his case is hopeless. Hermana*Auring, who I always suspected of being a supernatural being, was desperate to treat him with herbs even if she knew the chances were slim. She cared for him and mourned like how a wife would after his death. She cried like a grieving widow when the casket was lowered on the ground.

(Spanish term for "Sister")

Now I know why her dedication and care for us was unusual.

We are her family.

She turned out to be my mother.

She is Rosa, a fae my father mistakenly thought of as evil.

On his deathbed, he apologized to me for not being a good father. He said, he was in fact, honored and proud of having a son like me. I told him he was the best and thanked him for protecting me all the time.

"Have I been too strict?" he asked in labored breaths. "I apologize for being mean. I was trying to protect you but I think I went overboard all the time."

"I understand." I answered. "You are a lot better than some fathers I knew. I got everything I need. You are the best father I know. Thank you for being always there for me."

"I should have given you more gifts...spoiled you a little with treats and trips abroad..."

"I have enough, Father. And, I am very grateful that you did not spoil me. I appreciate all the surprise presents--like that horse from Spain. I am sorry I was not able to practice horseback riding much. She is more like a dog to me. She is sweet and is good in tricks. I love how she gallops and swipes her head on my back. Good horsie."

My father laughed softly.

"You are one of a kind, Son."

"So, are you." I replied.

"It is late. You should rest now." he tried to sit up but was too weak to do so. I assisted him by putting pillows on his back. "I am fine now. Go and sleep, Child."

"I can't leave..."

"Do as I say." he firmly told me. Even with his weakened state, his air of authority never faded.

That morning, at about three o' clock, he was gone.

I was devastated.

I could not weep but my heart felt so heavy. Hermana Auring would encourage me to eat but after a few spoonfuls of soup, I just went back to my room.

"Why do you look so sad?" Bianca asked me. I was lying on my bed and would rarely get up. I was like that for days.

"I am. My father was sick and then, he was gone."

She gasped and covered her mouth.

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

She just sat silently beside me. Then she spoke.

"It's alright to cry."

Crimson tears began flowing from my eyes. I covered my face with a pillow, not minding if I will stain it or the bedsheets. It was never easy for me to show my real emotion. Sadness pains me even more.

Because I cry blood.

And, it hurts so much. It felt like blades cutting my eyes. My loss was a lot more excruciating than the physical wounds being inflicted on me.

"I wish, I could embrace you right now to make you feel better. I am here for you, Buddy."

"It hurts."

"I know. They said that the reason we cry is that our emotions are too much and they spill out. I hope you can spill all your sadness out. Maintain your joys, though. I badly want to see you smile, my friend."

She had no idea how much her mere presence meant to me.

Soon, I was able to recover. The grieving was still there but her visits made it bearable.

Then, for consecutive nights, she never came.

For almost a year, she never came to me. I got so worried that she might not return.

Again.

I waited.

It was summer but it just started to rain. I stayed in the warehouse to wait until it stops. To pass time, I arranged the sacks of rice.

As lightning and thunder emerged from the dark sky, I felt someone's presence in an instant.

Upon opening the door, I was surprised to see a fair-skinned young lady of average height standing before me.

I felt her power. It is so strong that I almost lost my sanity. She is like fuel to folks like me and I had to summon all my strength to never bask in the life she is giving out.

I don't want to hurt her.

The rain stopped. Judging by her clothes, she came from another time. Since she had a shadow, I assumed she was not a ghost nor a spirit.

With her eyes closed, she walked through the field. I followed her. Then she just lay on her side like she was sleeping. I carefully approached her and observed.

I listened to her breathing.

She is alive.

I doubted if this lady is Bianca even though there was a slight resemblance.

This one is too beautiful.

She is comparable to a breathing Maria Clara*.

(The heroine of Jose Rizal's novel Noli Me Tangere. She is an epitome of a Filipina with beauty and grace. Mr. Rizal is the national hero of the Philippines)

Her carefully braided hair is reddish in color. Even if her eyes were closed, I could see clearly that they are as gentle as the eyes of the Virgin Mary, Mother of Jesus Christ. Her long eyelashes cast a faint shadow underneath her eyes. Her nose is neither high nor flat, just right for her very feminine face.

She wore a simple white shirt and blue jeans that fit perfectly on her slim built.

The Bianca I knew was...ghostly.

If this is really her, puberty had been good to her.

She slowly opened her eyes. I quickly stood up as I might scare her if she sees me too close to her. She sat up and I saw disbelief in her dark brown eyes.

"Antoine?" her lovely lips quivered as she spoke.

She knew me. I took out a vial of holy water and planned to sprinkle it on her. I just wanted to make sure that she is not possessed.

She told me to stop. She easily convinced me that she is indeed, human. I have to admit that her feisty remarks and manners made my decision falter. I was also swayed by her looks.

What a beauty!

Bianca is right. I could be very silly.

She refused to tell me her identity until I hire her as one of my servants. I had this strong feeling to take her under my care.

When we were about to leave, a book fell from her bag. I picked it up and saw the title. It had my name on it. The author is Bianca Ann Torres. I secretly took it with me.

That night I started reading the book. The stories were about the times Bianca was with me in her astral form. I had my thoughts that the lady I brought into the house was indeed, Bianca. It could also be possible that she was just a reader of the book.

Or another one gifted with the ability for astral projection.

Everything just confused me.

She was physically and spiritually present in my world. It is a rare case. I feared that she could be in deep trouble.

The next day, I showed her the book.

"Make it clear. Who is this author, Bianca Ann Torres?" I asked.

I wanted to hear the confirmation from her.

She admitted, at last.

"Yes, she is me. I wrote about you."

At that moment, I wanted to tell her so badly who I really am.

My emotion was so strong that I was tempted to embrace her and admit that I did miss her so much.

I had second thoughts to reveal my identity. She seemed at peace now without me.

And, I have a big and deep reason why it is advisable that we should not be together.

I must let her go and distance myself away from her.

But I could not.

I love her so much.

Maybe, I can find a way for us to be never apart again without anyone of us getting hurt.

She looked at me with questioning eyes.

"You don't look well. Are you alright?" she asked. She might have noticed the confusion in my expression.

"Bianca, I..."

I stopped when I remembered what was written in the book.

"Characters, places and events in the book are fiction and mere products of the author's imagination..."

For her own good, I decided to make her think of me that way.

For now.

Let me think about it.

My decision must be what will be the best for her.

"Miss Author..." I called.