Two: RAINA

2 months earlier

"Tell me about yourself."

Here we go again. Another mendacious storytelling to share with these two interviewers sitting in front of me. They both looked comfortable in their seat, wearing their black badass business attire as if they're the CEO of this company. The other woman doesn't pay attention to me though, she just kept reading and sorting papers on the table.

My name is Raina Joaquin

26 years old

Born on January 3, 1994

A novelist.

My Dad is a professional taekwondo trainor and my Mom is professional Chess player, who competes around the world.

And I am loved, and surrounded by so many lovely people.

This is my default story.

None of these information are real, not even one. Sometimes, I'm Joanna, a Veterinarian that lives in an apartment with my five dogs and three cats, living a quiet and happy life. Sometimes, I'm Sheena, a wife with two sons and my husband is a Soldier.

That's what I tell with all the internet friends I had. I don't feel guilty though. I don't know how it feels to be friends with people because I never really had one. I've never leave the house and socialize with people. I just woke up one day, felt brave enough to leave my uncle and be on my own and experience the world outside. I'm not sure if I did the right thing though.

"So, you don't have an impressive educational background, nor work experiences," she leans forward, clasping her hands resting on the desk. "Tell me, why should we hire you?"

Okay, honestly, this is my first interview for a job. I used to work as a proof reader and I just stayed at a four cornered room everyday for fifteen years.

I go out sometimes, when I feel suffocated. But I'm scared of people. Real people. Having conversations with them and doing all the normal things they do. I just think some people are annoyingly fake in their own way and I just can't sense their true intentions. So everyone, for me, is suspicious. I know for a fact that I'm a fake too, but in my case, I don't have any choice.

"I just, desperately need a job." I answered.

I didn't know what to say. I can't find the right words and I panicked. I just badly needed this job, or else, I'll become penniless since I cut ties with my uncle. This is my chance to live my life in freedom. — roughly.

It's frustrating how a pretentious human being live. I even have to fake my facial expression, my voice tone and gestures to become believeable. But I guess lying is easier than walking around, telling the truth and digging my own grave because unfortunately, someone wants me dead.

Yes, that's the ugly truth. The man, who set our house on fire that killed my parents, wants us all dead. But he nearly succeeded, because I'm still alive.

What happened that night is already blurry in my memory. With all the lies I have to come up, truths are already fading.

But there's only two things that's still clear to me until today. My Dad, who told me to hide, don't tell a single person who I really am and trust no one. The second is, that Man's face. The man who made my Dad terrified until his last breath. Just like that, I became an orphan.

I miss them both. I don't know why it happened, but my parents aren't the type who make enemies. They're good people. Even though I'm aware how busy they were, they still make time for me. Especially on Sundays, when we sometimes go out for a picnic at the riverside park. Dad loves to go fishing there. But those memories are already fading now. Because of a one horrible event.

That night was our usual peaceful night. I was so busy at the living room, solving a Nemo themed jigsaw puzzle while Dad was in the kitchen, talking to someone on the phone. I bet that was his fishing buddy again. Then everything escalated quickly. I can't even remember where and when the fire started. It rage so fast and I got scared, but I don't have any idea what I'm going to do. I just sit there, as though I'm waiting for them to come and get me. I heard my Mom screaming for help from the room upstairs. Her screaming voice was the most terrifying sound I've ever heard. I called her so many times until it makes me cry. I cried so loud, like my chest was going to explode. Then I heard my Dad calling my name from the kitchen. Smoke's starting to fill my lungs, I cough badly as I crawl over to him and saw him lying on the floor, unable to get up. He's already wheezy, but he still got to tell me his terrifying last words before he became unconcious. I was petrified. I still clung to him even though I have a way out through the flap door for our cats, but I don't wanna leave him. Then as the fire starting to eat us all up, and before I half-conciously close my eyes from the suffocation, I saw him, as he open the door. Those terrifying eyes, and his big hands that can crush someone's skull. A pure evil psycopath figure. And I can still remember the terror I felt back there. I thought he was going to kill me but maybe he lost his chance, because even before I turn unconcious, I can already hear a siren approaching.

Next thing I know, I woke up at my Uncle Miguel's house. At first, I thought it was all a bad dream. But then, I realized I have bandages on my right shoulder, and an oxygen tank at the right side of the bed. I can't utter a word after that. I was traumatized. I didn't even get the chance to send my parents off because I have to hide. Uncle said I died from the fire too, according to the police report — which sounds weird to me – and that I have to hide my identity from that day on. He seems to know that what happened wasn't just an accident but he's too afraid to report it to the police. Too afraid to let them know that I'm still alive, and that I saw the man who did it.

Then years after, we started receiving some threatening messages from time to time using an unknown number saying:

I know she's alive.

I like hide & seek.

Don't make me find you

That's why I left my uncle. He became overprotective and afraid that the killer might find us and try to kill me for the second time. I know my uncle's intentions are good but I think I'm the problem, because I'm the killer's target. So I think it's better if he assumes I'm already dead and continue his life without fear.

"Thank you, Ms. Joaquin. We'll just call you regarding your application." the interviewer reach her right hand towards me first, then we shook hands.

"Thank you." I said whisperedbecause they immediately walked away from me.

For one with an unfortunate life, this is inevitable. Sometimes, I think I'm better off dead.

Present

12:47PM

I saw a folded paper on the floor the moment I open the door of my apartment. An Eviction Notice. I haven't paid my rent since last month. I folded it again and put it in my jacket's pocket. I'll just wait for them to come and drive me out of here.

I received two messages. First, from my uncle asking where am I and that I should come back home. And the other one is from an unknown number again: I know you ran away. Don't make me find you.

Eventually, these kind of threats doesn't scare me anymore. I don't feel anything anymore, as though I accepted my defeat and that I am ready to die anytime.

I'm starving yet I don't have anything in my refrigerator, just water. My money that hold out for two months has come to an end. I'm now hanging by a thread. Then I was reminded that today is October 1st. The day my parents died. This day – I believe — is cursed.

I lie down on my bed, facing the ceiling. I closed my eyes and I feel like crying, but no tears coming out of me. I thought the only thing that imprisoned me before was that four corner room I'm in. Yet, here I am, still held captive, trying hard just to survive a day.

"Just die..."

"You should've been dead a long time ago."

"Why do you keep on living?"

The voices in my head started again. How can I die in peace when I keep on hearing these things, telling me what I already know. They doesn't need to remind me everytime.

I got up, put my Jacket on and went outside. I think I finally made up my mind. I started walking, as if I'm fully decided of where I'm going. The large pillows of cloud were forming, blotting out the old-gold colour of the sun. The storm is brewing. I smirked, because the weather is perfect. I like stormy days.

5:36PM

I went to the Cemetery where I'm afraid to go for 15 years. I felt somehow guilty thinking my parents are mad at me for not giving them the justice they deserve.

In memories of:

Arkanghel and Sofia

In the middle of their grave is where my name emplaced. I wonder whose body is in there, 'cause it's obviously not mine.

Mom, Dad, I didn't die. Incase you didn't know. I'm not that girl in your middle.

I want to cry, but I'm not going to. There's people around and I don't want them to think I'm related to them. We're practically famous at some point in the past. We've appeared on the local news.

House fire leaves three people dead

House catches fire in San Lorenzo

Three dead after house catches fire

These are the headlines on the newspapers in the first week of October, 2005. I remember seeing so many people on television, lighting candles in our front yard. Some are our neighbor, others are just strangers who felt bad for us. I wondered if the killer was one of them, pretending to have empathy.

People are starting to stare. I have to go.

"I'll see you in a bit, Mom." I whispered.

If I die today, I wonder what would they write on my epitaph. Am I going to die as Raina? Whatever. I'm dead anyway.

9:57PM

After a long hours of walk, I found myself standing at the edge of the bridge. The voices in my head is telling me to kill myself. I know the saying: If you can't beat them, join them. If I can't make them stop, then I'll just acknowlege what they want. Living is not for me anyway, so I chose the only option I have: Death. It's better than just exist. If this is the world wants from me, fine.

I cried my eyes out and keep screaming in agony. I've been wanting to do this. Letting it all out of me. They said you'll feel better after, but maybe it's different for me again.

I jumped off, at last, this is the end of my life's chapter. Some books have tragic ending, don't they?