For some reasons that I don't know, the door was still wide open. I stepped inside, taking advantage of the fact that there were no people around. As I reached the end of the short entry way, I was greeted by a living room full of police line tapes. Tags littered on walls and all over the floor. Smears of mud were on the wall, as if someone was dragged or dragged himself against it. Piles of trash lied on the kitchen floor. Muddy footsteps were everywhere, along with drops of blood. What happened here?

A cold slow breeze passed by through the window, making the white curtains rise like angel wings. The breeze made me clutch my body, shivering as I did. But, it wasn't from the coldness. I shivered at the thought of what this guy, Sam, hopefully not Oliver, went through. I stepped further inside, skipping over the line tapes. As I did, I prayed that I was wrong. I prayed that this wasn't Oliver. I prayed that somewhere far from here, he is now happy with a girl who truly loves him and appreciates his efforts in showing his love – because he is so good at that and I was just too dumb and too blind to appreciate what I had.

"They were more than friends, you know." A woman's voice coming from behind surprised me, making me squeal and leap against a wall. She was holding something and pressed it against her chest, her gaze stuck on the floor.

"They said that my son killed him. But, they were wrong." She looked so morose with a ghostly feel – frail and thin, with unkempt hair, eyes red with swollen eye bags, yet her face had a youthful vibe.

"I am so sorry for trespassing. I-I should go." The exit was still near from where I stood. I inched towards the door. Who is she?

"They were family," she continued. "...The kind of family that never kill each other."

I stopped and looked at her. She looked back at me in the eye. There was sheer anguish in her eyes yet her face looked unusually stiff and blank. "My son... he was his nephew." Her voice came out so faintly it was almost a whisper.

I could feel her sadness like a virulent sickness radiating from her body. Somehow, I felt obliged to say something. But I was never good at this. "N-nephew?" I asked, trying to sound sympathetic.

"Oliver, I-I mean Sam, was my brother." There, she said it. The first word choked me, like bile rising up to my throat. I wished she hadn't said that. I really wished I hadn't heard that. But, the words were uttered so clearly it was as if she intended to say it that way for the words to pierce through me. And it did. It was stuck in my head.

"I'm sorry, but, d-did you just s-say... 'Oliver'?" I couldn't stop my lips from trembling as I spoke. But I had to confirm it. I had to. I'd go crazy if this uncertainty would stretch on.

She sighed and her tensed shoulders melted down in surrender. She looked down at the floor again, as if in a day dream. "Sam Castro was just an alias my father and I came up to in order to protect my brother."

"Protect? ...F-from what?"I didn't really mean to ask that question because I was afraid to know the answer. Everything was beginning to feel so surreal.

I hate this!

I hated this moment. I hated everything that's going on right now. I hated the fact she mentioned Oliver. I hated the fact that I am asking follow up questions like we're just talking about somebody who's probably just in the city buying things. For heaven's sake, we are talking about Oliver now! My worst fears had just been confirmed!

And because I asked, I was bound to hear the answer. She replied, "I wasn't there when everything happened. But, they said our dad made an enemy out from the Dela Calzada clan." Her words came out heavily. I felt my raging emotions shifted to what she just said.

Dela Calzada...

She was talking about Mark's family. His family holds a big estate in the city. It was big enough for the citizens to recognize and respect their family – a respect born from fear. Though their family was a key player in the city's economy, they weren't a fan of the city's law enforcement system. They have an unspoken immunity from it. They can do what they want; get what they want, how they want. Law doesn't apply to them. Because of that, it would be wise to stay out of their way. But right now, my life is headed towards their path. I wasn't sure where to place my emotions. I should be furious with Mark but then again, I will soon be part of his family – something which I am powerless to stop.

Before I could say something, Oliver's sister went on. "I don't know much about the details of the feud. But, I do know that it escalated to a deadly level in just a few days. It came to a point in which my parents had to hide out of town with my brother. I was overseas back then. I could only help them financially." Her voice started to shake. "This all started two years ago."

Two years ago, that was when Oliver and I broke up. Damn! How could I not know much about Oliver's life? I didn't even know he had a sister working abroad. Did he hide these things from me? Or, was I just too consumed about feeding my own ego that I didn't even care what was happening in Oliver's life? How stupid can a girl get? I guess I'm a living epitome of it.

I stood frozen against the wall, listening to Oliver's sister. I dared not say a single word, mainly because I didn't know what to say. And, I wasn't sure where this was heading – I didn't think I was ready for that, too.

"Dad called me and made me promise. He made me promise to protect Oliver whatever it takes. As an NBI agent, Dad had been tasked to investigate the Dela Calzada family. Their wealth was suspicious. They said that Dad found hard evidences to support the reports that the family was operating a large laboratory that manufactures illegal drugs. The family found out about this and they hunted down my dad. Because of this, my family went out of town to hide from the clan. My father knew that he was bound to die. And so, he told his friends back in the NBI office that the clan must not know about my brother's existence, hence, the name Sam Castro." She paused, wiping the tears that had started to flow. "But, Oliver insisted that he needed to go back to this city. He said he had to see somebody special. That was a Tuesday night. He drove by himself, oblivious to the fact that our parents were already being murdered in their safe house."

She stopped and covered her eyes with her palm. I heard a small sob escaped from her. Under normal circumstances, I would've run to her and hugged her. But, the phrase 'he had to see somebody special' struck me. I knew I might be assuming things, but, I have a dreadful feeling that 'somebody special' was me. I felt myself getting buried six feet down under a pile of guilt, shame, stupidity and whatever negative connotations there are in the dictionary.

"My father called me before those demons killed them. His dying wish was to save my brother. A-and... and... I failed him." With this, she broke down. She fell to her knees and drowned her face to her palms, dropping a small book she was holding earlier.

I wanted to hug her because I knew that was what she needed. But, instead, I remained frozen. Her last words felt like sharp claws gripping my heart. I failed him, too, I thought. I felt her despair creeping from my legs going up, occupying the last joyful spot in my heart.

She cried for a while as I remained glued on my spot, drained of happiness, my eyes absent-mindedly fixed on the fallen book by the woman's knees. Then she wiped her eyes, took the book hastily and rose. "He was safe in Manila. He had a job as a writer for the news firm there. I felt safe having him there with me. The clan didn't know we were there. My father's effort paid off. They didn't have a clue about Oliver's existence. For almost a year, we lived there peacefully."

She stopped talking and sighed deeply. Her eyes still had that blank look as she stared onto the spot on the floor where I stood frozen.

"O-Oliver... why was he here?" I have been going on and on with this question. My heart craved for answers.

With that she looked at me. Her eyes were glowing with mixed emotions. Whatever those emotions were, it terrorized me. The feeling of not knowing what the other person is thinking about you, especially when they are staring at you, feels like being sucked into an abyss full of monstrous unknowns. I felt cold sweat dripping from my forehead. Somehow, I had a faint idea of what she was thinking.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as if preparing to dive into a pool. "Follow me," she said with an authoritative voice.

Struck by the sudden change in her mood, I followed her as she went to a short hallway behind the living room wall. There were still smears of mud on these walls and it led to an open door at the end of the hallway. As we were walking, she kept on talking.

"As I've said earlier, Oliver went back to this city for his own reasons. But when he drove back home, he had a fatal car accident."

"C-car accident?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Without realizing, I've stopped walking and stared at this talking woman in front of me.

"Yes. Thankfully, he survived. But..." She stopped walking, too, and looked up to the ceiling. "...at a cost."

"W-what do you mean?"

She turned around and looked at me. Her expression was calmer and with more resolve. "Melissa."

Did she just mention my name? I thought I was just hearing things. But then again, it dawned on me. Of course! She is Oliver's sister after all. Of course she knew me. If she knew me, then maybe... she already knew what I did to Oliver. My mouth fell open but I couldn't churn out a single word.

"My brother loved you very much, you know." Her eyes were still fixed on me. Somehow, there was a hint of grudge in her stare or maybe I was just assuming. "You were the only girl he loved like that. He kept on telling me how beautiful you are, how perfect you are, how kind you are... and that you were the kind of girl he would like to settle down with. He was like a young boy talking about his crush when we talked over the phone. He was describing you in a way that I could almost picture out an angel in my mind."

She smiled for the first time since we talked. "I can see now that he was right."

If only I could turn invisible for a moment, I would've done that. Guilt and shame were tearing me apart piece by piece. Her tired and tear-soaked eyes were still fixed to mine. Then, she looked away and turned her back on me.

"Oliver... on the day of the accident... he..." She looked at the open door beyond. "He lost his memories."

... Lost his memories ...lost his memories ...lost ...his ...memories ...memories ...memories...

Each word of that sentence seemed to stab me with a rusty jagged knife. Everything turned black. I could feel the world around me turning into a mushy and swampy place, like I've just been sucked in a whole new universe, where all my worst fears lurked. I saw memories of us floating amidst the shallow swamp like floating LED screens. I saw how Oliver held me in his arms as we crossed the road. I saw how Oliver laughed at my corny jokes. I saw Oliver making every effort in setting up inside-the-tent-dinner-with-candles for our third anniversary. Then, I saw those memories flush down the waterfall beyond the swamp. I felt so alone, hearing voices telling me that I was doomed to suffer for the rest of my living life and even on the afterlife. Oliver... oh, my poor Oliver...

A sudden warmth brought me out of my depressing hallucinations. I was surprised to feel Oliver's sister hugging me as she cried on my shoulders. I hugged her back, feeling her shaking body as she cried. I saw a teardrop fell on the spot on the floor where I was staring at, like the first droplet of rain before the downpour. Soon, my eyes were flooded in tears too.

After a long moment of crying, she held my shoulders and said, "I need you to see something."

I wiped my tears with my wet hands and followed her as she entered the room at the end of the short hallway. The room was filled with morning light from the window. Everything was neatly stacked, from books in the bookcases to the clothes on the wall mounted hanger. The room would've been a calming sight to see if it weren't for the police line tapes, mud and blood all over the floor. I stared long at the floor where most of the blood and mud were clumped.

"You asked why Oliver was here. Please look to your right." I heard Oliver's sister said.

As I shifted my gaze, I was greeted by a familiar face smiling back at me, innocently. And then, my eyes drowned in tears once again.

***

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