“Do you have any relative Miss?” inquired the police in the precinct.
“Do I look like I have one?” I replied in hard tone.
“Acting hard are ya?” he said eyeing me sharply under his eyeglasses.
“You’re forgetting something miss, let me remind you of your age. A year from now and you’ll rot here like a dead rat” he warned, as if I care. My life had been a whirlwind to even dream of it becoming better, “for the mean time you’ll be under the women and children department’s custody. But one foot out of the line Miss and you’ll say hello to me.” My nerve starts pulsating with these shitholes, “how many times do I have to tell you dimwit, I didn’t kill the man!”
“You were diagnosed positively in the drug test. That is enough evidence.”
I shook my head; reasoning with these fools is futile. I stared at his belly, tss, a typical police officer “I am the victim here, I was just force to smell that fucking coke! You should do your jobs better than your…” I looked toward his belly in disgust “diet.” His face flushed red with my statement, he lifts his hand for a slap but the others stopped him. Serves you right!
A loyal costumer of the police station, a stray poor girl with no relatives at all those were me minus the murder; Iry Mist Esperanza. The officers at the precinct had been accusing me of that but hell, I’m gonna be punished for something I didn’t do.
“Miss Esperanza you have a visitor” says the meddling woman who had been telling me about how nice it could be to have a foster parent. Save the smile Mely, I’m not a typical child; I know how cruel the world is. I walked past her, who would be visiting me? I wasn’t really involved with the incident; I was just a victim of whatever joke fate likes me in. Coincidentally I was there when it happened. A pack of gangster chased the boy and tied him on the pole of the street light. Knowing that I saw them, they force me to take cocaine to knock me out of my sanity. I woke up and see that the boy was shot dead on the head. I can't recognize any of the gangsters though because they wear bonnets.
I walk toward the visiting area and to my surprise it is an old man. He smiled as I approach him. Who is this freak? I have no idea.
“What’s up grandchild?” I roam my eyes around me. Who is he calling a grandchild? “What?” I asked and it sounded foolish rather than innocent. He laughed, I frowned “ who the freking hell, are you?” I can’t stop my mouth, he was hysterically laughing. “You act like your mother, oh what a damn little child” he said. I glared at him, haven’t I been at an orphanage or a mental institute? “And you look like your mother, even your deeds are like your mother's.” he continued. Oh I’ve had enough of this, I don’t have a mother, “get lost, freak I don’t have time for you” I marched away, murmuring a “shitholes all around…”
When three of my loveones die, I reckoned I was a grim surrounding them so I walked away, away from what’s left as them. I found myself astrayed; I didn’t really cared; I don’t wanna be some bad luck surrounding them. I look like a beggar. I act like a beggar. There’s no sense left for living. If only suicide isn’t painful I’m long rotten with worms feasting my flesh.
And this freak over here claiming to be my relative, does he want some death wish?
“Why have you done this Iry?”
I flinched with the mention of my name. “What did you say?” I turned my back “how do you know my name?” It was enough for me to scrutinize his freaky façade when he replied “that is because I'm a dreamwalker and in this case, you too” there was a slight evil smile on his lips that made the hairs on my nape rise. I was half-way at shouting that there was a crazy man that escaped from a mental institute. But then he said, “Arent you interested about your mother?”
3 months earlier...
A chill slid over my skin. Abby smiled at me while dreamily clapping her hands. “I told you you got them, what was it that you said again, she placed her hand on her chin “there is no absolute truth…” she mimicked my voice and laughed, “their face were priceless, I can watch them all day.” Her voice suddenly became distorted; it muffled over and over. "Iry, I-Iry” she waved her hand, “are you even listening?” my head suddenly ached while a scene flashes at my burning eyes. “Move away from there!” I shouted. “Abby run!” my eyes burned even more and I felt my head tearing. I can’t—take it—I might, before I collapsed, Abby’s wail is what I’ve heard.
__________________________________________________________________________
That is exactly what happened with the other persons important for me. A scene would flash in my mind and something bad will happen.
“You’re awake” a woman’s voice, I get up, abby where’s abby? I looked at what I'm wearing. I’m still on my uniform. My teacher looks down at me with pity in her eyes. “Do you remember anything Iry?” she asks, before I can answer, the doctor arrives. “She just woke up, doc.” “You don't have to worry miss, she is safe. She just experienced minimal oxygen-loss of the brain that is why she collapsed. But now she is stable” the doctor said for which I don’t concern myself. I have to find Abby. “Thanks doc” the doctor walked away after nodding. “Are you feeling okay now?” she held a hand on my forehead. I turned my head side to side “Abby, where is she?” She stared at me. No, what is that gleam in her eyes? “Where’s she, answer me?!" no, no, no not again. She didn’t answer and I know why, but I still want to hear it. I took off the dextrose that was inserted on my wrist. With my frustrations, I shouted “WHERE IS ABBIGAIL?!” “Iry calm down...what are you doing, nurse?” I don’t have the care in the world right now, I have to find Abby. I have to fucking see her. I know she’s here, so I ran towards the emergency room. Ms. Alba was following me.
“She’s gone.”
I stopped. I turned to her see her head down a bit. “She was strucked by a metal scrap” a teardrop runs down my cheek. No.
I ran and ran and ran to my heart’s content, no, not Abby, not her. The tears are now flooding my eyes. What is it that I have inside me, bad luck? What am I? Why is this happening to me? I don’t where I would go and I don’t care that my feet hurt, I have no footwear. I don’t care, my heart is so heavy. Grandma, Abby I’m sorry. I’m—I’m so sorry Abby. That vision came true; I should have saved you Abby…
It was the scene that flashed in my head: Abby was strucked dead by falling metal debris.