(TW: bullying, assault)

Robert woke up late the next day.

His cousin and him talked all night long about the good ol' days that he had little time to sleep. He quickly blew a kiss to Belle's picture and left for school. When he reached the mango tree there was nobody there.

"She must have left before me..." he thought, "I'm late for school again! Better hurry!"

"What took you so long?" called a voice from behind the tree.

"Oh sorry," he said, turning around, "I over slept and..." Robert fell silent.

Before him was Angela, her hair cut short in a one-sided bobcut that reached to her chin.

His jaw fell as he looked at her.

"What?" the other asked.

"What happened to your hair...?" he asked trying not to laugh.

"None of your business," she replied. "C'mon, we're late already."

Robert watched as Angela led the way. He covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

"She doesn't look bad, but... hehe..." he snickered.

Angela suddenly turned around and slapped him in the face.

"Late again, Mr. Cordero? Join Ms. Bartholomew outside!"

Robert walked like in a trance, a faint red hand mark on his left cheek. Angela was already standing there, ignoring him completely. Some of the boys in the corridor were looking at her, but she ignored them too.

Robert stood beside her, eyes blurry, he sees nothing.

'She slapped me.' he said again and again inside his head. 'She hit me like that so easily...'

Slowly, he faced her and stared, mumbling to himself.

"What are you mumbling about?!"

Robert looked away and started to sob.

"What's your problem now, you wimp?!" she hissed.

She tried to keep a straight face but the guy beside her sobbed even more.

"Now what?" asked the teacher, his head popping from behind the door.

"Sir, I think Robert isn't feeling well today," said Angela with a concerned frown.

"What did she say?" she heard from inside the room.

"She's concerned about Robert!"

"Impossible! She has never been concerned about a guy before!"

"Maybe the rumors are true!"

'$h!t.'

Angela felt a headache coming as she tried even harder to keep a straight face.

"Sir, I'm afraid he might throw up on me." she said, stepping away from Robert who was still sobbing hard, his arm across his face. "Perhaps he should go to the clinic or something."

"Good idea." said the teacher. "You take him."

"WHAT?!" said Angela along with the rest of the class.

"Hurry up before he throws up," said the teacher.

He looked along the corridor and saw other students looking at the pair.

"All students back to class!" he bellowed.

With that, he went back inside the classroom and closed the door.

"Class, silence," they heard him roar above their classmates' voices.

"Me and my big mouth..." thought Angela. "Hey, would you stop that already?" she hissed, jabbing Robert on the shoulder.

"Y-you h-h-hit me a-again!!!" sobbed Robert, his face flushed red, his nose runny, and the tears running down his face in torrents.

"Geeezussss! You good for nothing wimp! You so disgusts me!!!" sneered Angela, "Now, move it or I'll really hit you!"

"Well, nothing seems to be wrong," the school nurse told Angela as she placed the stethoscope on the table. "His temperature is normal and he doesn't seem to be anemic. In fact, he seems to be in great condition."

She looked back at Robert.

He lay down on the bed as soon as he reached the clinic.

'If anything, I'd say this is regression,' she thought to herself.

"Umm... can I go back to class now?" asked Angela, standing by the door.

"Oh, yes, go on..." replied the nurse without looking at her.

She returned to her patient.

Robert still lay on the bed, hugging his knees. Tears were still flowing down his cheeks, his eyes, closed.

"I wonder what happened to him" she thought.

With a sigh, she pulled the covers over the boy's body and let him take some rest.

. . .

Robert wept 'til he drifted to sleep.

Inside he saw images of the past – his past that pains him 'til now.

The past he would much rather forget.

"But that would mean forgetting her too..." he thought, "No... not Belle... how could I possibly... forget..."

We weren't rich.

Not really...

my mother eloped with my father, her high school teacehr, when she was only 16. My Father was 12 years older than her, and they said that it was never meant to last.

Obviously, my grandparents were furious about it and disowned her.

I was 2 when he left us.

I never even knew his name.

When my mother was forced to return home to work as a maid, the mention of my father's name was forbidden.

My earliest memory of my grandfather was a tall man with a long scowling face.

He always shouts at me whenever he sees me, calling me 'bastardo'. I didn't know what it meant back then, but when the other children called me that, it really hurt. Whenever I ask my mother about it, she would only shrug and turn away.

The only person I ran to back then was my cousin Glenn. His Mother, Tita Gina, was nice to me too, since my mother and her used to be best friends as well as sisters when they were young.

It was kuya Glenn who taught me how to fight.

He would push me to the limit and wait for me to break, then he would take my hits as if a mere baby was fighting him.

And now he's studying to be a priest.

When I turned 6, Tita Gina gave my mother a job in her company as a designer.

We were able to afford a small apartment and stay away from my grandfather.

Nothing much changed, though, I was attracting trouble wherever I went.

Sometimes I even start it.

At school, all the students were afraid of me, and the teachers simply wanted me out. One of them was that old maid with the flat face. She hated me with a passion, making up stories even, just to get me into trouble.

One day she claimed to have lost her wallet.

She pulled me from my seat and commanded me to give it back. When I said I didn't have it, she stretched out my left arm, took a plastic ruler and started hitting me with it.

I didn't cry.

I never cry.

I simply looked at her angrily.

"I won't give you this satisfaction." I thought.

She then hit me harder, until the ruler broke and the sharp edge hit my arm and cut my wrist.

'The bleeding won't stop!'

She stepped back, frightened by the sight of blood.

'It won't stop.'

I tried to stop it, hold it tight 'til my fingertips went cold.

"Someone call the principal!"

Before I knew what I was doing, I took hold of the blackboard pointer and started beating her with it, screaming as I did.

When I came to, I was in a hospital.

I got 6 stitches.

My mother took me home and called tito Gener, her younger brother who was a lawyer. They sued the school. The teacher was forced to leave and I got to study for free until I graduate.

The scar doesn't show much anymore, but the memory is still very fresh.

Since then, I always loose myself when ever I see my own blood trickling.

I just couldn't help myself.

After that incident, all the students started avoiding me.

"That's the boy who almost killed that teacher."

I heard them whisper behind my back.

Why bother whispering? I could still hear you.

And it still hurts...

like that time they kept calling me bastardo...

Especially now, that I know what it means.

Only one person was left.

"Danny will never leave his best friend Obet's side!"

We've been together since kindergarten, and we've done everything together, but he always ends up in the first section, and I, in the last.

He was everything I ever wanted to be.

Then came high school.

Nothing much changed. I still fought to defend myself and to gain respect.

We were constantly fighting with another gang called Sparks, simply 'coz we didn't like their name. Sometimes the fight turns bloody, but nothing really serious ever happens. Besides, my Uncle was a top-notch lawyer and Danny's parents 'know people'.

Then I started 3rd year.

That's when she came.

"Are you okay? You're bleeding!"

She saw me behind the school building, throwing up.

I just came from a fight, got hit by a metal pipe on the head and lost myself again. I almost killed someone, if Danny hadn't stopped me. We ran for cover when the teachers came and got separated.

"Are you sick? Should I call for a teacher?"

"Go away, b#%ch! Leave me alone!"

"But..."

I started throwing up again...

This always happens after a fight... after seeing too much blood.

"Here."

She handed me a pink handkerchief.

I looked closer at her, then, amazed at his braveness.

"Wipe out the blood with this," she insisted.

I didn't budge.

"I told you to go away!"

"Oh, let me do it then."

I watched wide-eyed as she dabbed at my forehead with the light blue hanky.

It sipped at the blood, turned scarlet.

She simply folded it the other way and continued cleaning my wounds.

I looked at her closer; long, black hair, deep brown eyes. I have never seen this girl before, a freshman probably

Then again, an old student would never go near me.

She looked back at me and smiled. I felt a sharp pain at the pit of my stomach, but I wasn't going to throw up. It was something else, something stronger.

"Is that better?" she asked.

"W-what's your name?" I asked.

"Annabelle Cruz," she replied. "You can call me Belle."

"I... my name is Obet..."

That was our first meeting.

It was the first time someone actually cared about me.

"There, over there! You see her?"

"Who? That little kid by the blackboard? Well, she is kinda cute, but I prefer Patty with those huge play things in front of her... geh-he-he..."

"C'mon Danny, I'm serious!"

"Okay, okay, sorry...

I started to hang out with her, walk home with her, try to get closer to her. Every day, I learned something new about her...

...Her hair falls gently to her eyes, and she would blow it away from her face, if this doesn't work, she would flip her head and let it fall back in place...

...The way she moves, as if she was dancing to a secret tune, she would be cautious of my stare, then she would look at me and smile...

...how she loves to lick at the corners of an ice cream cone before she eats the whole thing, her favorite flavor was strawberry...

...how she hates it when I act stubborn and refuse to take a hanky with me coz it's too demeaning, she would then hand me her own...

...the way she blushes whenever I look at her closely, then she would frown and pinch me on the nose...

...and how she smiles.

She's always smiling...

God, if I could only take her smile and keep it inside my heart to keep me always warm...

I wasn't thinking.

I saw less and less of my friends and the Sparks started to notice it.

One day, a friend got hospitalized after getting beaten on his way home. We had to fight back, it was only fair, but she wouldn't hear about it.

We got into a fight and I ended up leaving her.

I forgot that the Sparks hated me the most.

I never thought they would go that far...

I called to say sorry but...

"She never got home."

I looked for her desperately.

Inside my head I knew I would never forgive myself if anything happened to Belle.

I could kill for her.

Die for her.

She meant more to me than life itself.

It was almost midnight when I saw her, the rain pouring down hard.

She was sitting hunched in an old deserted house.

Her clothes were thorn, her hair matted with blood.

I held her in my arms, asking her what happened, begging her to tell me, but she just shrugged and smiled at me.

"If I did, you would only try to hurt someone, and this cycle of anger would never end. I don't want you to be angry because of me, Obet."

I wanted to shake her then, to push her against the wall and force the truth out of her, but I couldn't make myself to hurt her.

I took her to the hospital.

The doctor didn't have to tell me what happened.

I stayed there by her side.

She wouldn't let me go, saying I might look for the people who did it to her.

I knew deep inside that she was scared.

Scared for me.

Scared of being left alone.

Later her parents came.

They looked at me.

What's with the stare?

Surprise?

Anger?

I wasn't the one who did it...

"They're angry..." she whispered to me, "they didn't know I was seeing someone..."

I couldn't say anything.

With my background and all, no parent would want their child near me, but still...

"I love you Obet..."

Those were the words that made me cry.

All these years I tried to be strong.

I fought for my life and gave my blood to gain other people's respect, but I never gained their love.

Could it be that it was this love that I have been searching for all along?

It hurt now that I realize that I felt the same but...

"But I couldn't protect you."

"No Obet... Let me be the one to protect you from yourself..." she held my hand tighter and smiled.

Smile for me some more.

"Obet, Belle's Father wants to have a word with you..." my mother told me.

"The doctor told us what happened. Is it true that she wouldn't tell who did this?"

"Yes sir..."

"She wanted to protect you..."

"... yes... that's what she said..."

"She truly is a strong girl. Just like her brother..."

He looked troubled.

"We had no idea she was having a relationship with you. We never would have allowed it if we did. This must stop. You are not to see Belle again, is that clear?"

No.

I don't understand.

Nothing makes sense when the world is against you.

I didn't want to leave Belle but...

"So, you talked to Belle's father?" mom asked me.

"Yeah..."

"What do you think about him?"

"Nothing..."

He doesn't want me to bring her any more trouble...

but...

"Do you remember your father, Obet?"

"As if that's possible. Why do you ask?"

"When you were 2 your father had to leave us... there was another woman, and that woman had a baby girl..."

"What the hell are you trying to say?"

"Robert... You and Annabelle... are siblings."