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Chapter 5: The night of despair

last update Last Updated: 2021-10-18 23:27:44

Martin is new to these things. Perhaps, these are not something an ordinary person could ever experience in their entire life.                               

In just one snap, their family life is in a distraught situation.

The eldest son is puzzled. 'Why can't we just run?' 

Like him, Luke knows that his son is intelligent, and he seems to guess what his son is thinking, "Even if we run now, they can still catch up. I have already called Beth to help us. We only need to wait for help patiently. She told me she has connections with the army. Besides, I will talk to them and buy us more time. We only need to wait and hide. This will be a perfect and safe plan," that is what Luke said, but deep in his mind, Luke knows that he is treading on a thin thread between life and death.

With a smile and a caring look, he calms his tense family. He kisses every one of them on their foreheads and mutters his prayers for them.

In these dangerous situations, Theresa wants to support her husband physically, but with their children in tow, her instincts, as a mother, tells her to protect the fruits of their union and hide.

They know they cannot escape. Therefore, they have to hide to await this storm to end until their savior saves them, at least.

Martin and Luther hide behind the heavy curtain in the corner of the room near the window. This spot was always their best hiding place whenever playing hide and seek.

Whether with or without lights, the space behind the curtain is always dark and inconspicuous. Meanwhile, Theresa and Annie choose the humongous wardrobe as their hiding spot.

After Luke secures his family and lets Rufus out of the window, hoping to at least call the attention of his neighbors, he straightens his back, opens the door, turns, and faces the direction of his family. He smiles slightly, locks it, and goes to the living room with the bark of the running Rufus as his background music.

At that very moment, Luke feels chill at the back of his neck. His knees are buckling in, and his breathing spikes—the illumination from the lightning streaks across the grim face of the uncertain father.

The shadow of a loving father and a caring husband left a trail of bitterness. 

That back makes their eyesight slightly blurry as if their father cast an illusion between them. A misconception that something inauspicious is meant to happen.

They wanted to hold him and comfort their always weary father, but they couldn't.

---

Time seems to pass so slow for Martin. He had never felt this suffocated before. Different pitches of voices emanated in the living room. Some are loud, some are soft, and some are husky and guttural.

He grasps the palm of Luther hoping, but he realizes that both of their palms are soaked wet, or rather, it is his hand that is so sweaty that he does not realize his brother's hand is more stable than his'. 

'Hehe, maybe I needed the comfort more than my brother did.'

There are no audible sounds, no gestures, only silently hearing things that make these two brothers aware of their surroundings. With the flurry of rain pattering against the window, the dismal vibe intensified.

Only growls and shouts and banging of things at different intervals are the only times Martin can visualize what could be happening. But he knew that the possibility of a good conversation between his father and the perpetrators was as good as zero.

One thing is for sure. Their father is on the losing end.

"Where are you, Aunt Beth?" They called in their hearts. 

They also pray for almost every being they could think of. 

"If someone is listening out there, hear my plea. Help my family and me, please. I will do everything. I will do good deeds every time, I will always be a good child, and I will even sacrifice my freedom and life if 'You' could help us, please." Martin prays silently with his innermost desire as the source and his anger and listlessness as his fuel.

For extra measure, he even tries to plead to his real 'gods,' "I beseech thy Empyrean, who wields the power of the great Dao, to reverse thy fate of your humble servant. I promise thee, to become thy most loyal and staunchest retainer, for I will tread the mountain of blades and cross the river of fire if thy lowly wishes are granted."

"... Bing... could... this? YOU... A MONSTER!" Martin is interrupted by a voice, and he knows this voice came from his father. The noise in the living room was greatly diminished when he heard the shout.

His world starts to collapse. 

He thought earlier that they might be able to pass this through unscathed. That his father's negotiations will bear fruit.

"You... cooperate... us. Then... won't kill..." with these seemingly incoherent sentences, Martin is barely able to connect what they are talking about.

He connects the dots and pieces the missing words. Councilor Bing wants to cooperate with his father to do specific stuff Martin knows his father would never concede to do.

He knows that his father is a man of dignity and great conscience for all the years living together. He will not condone nor associate with people who were proven guilty of doing malicious deeds. Without his father replying, he already knows his answer.

"NO!!! Never!"

'As I thought.' Martin cannot help but lament.

Shouts then resume—a more aggressive one.

More punching and more glasses shattering compete with the roaring thunder.

This whole house became a real battlefield, yet the neighboring houses magically did not hear anything. As if all that is happening is far from them and that a family that had helped them a lot has never been a part of their life.

------------------

He just knows that if a Supreme is out there, his family will undoubtedly be saved with his life as the payment.

He wishes for a minor miracle to happen—nothing more, nothing less.

Martin promises anything he could think about. All the hopes his heart could make and all the wishes he would forsake just for this once—save his family.

The despair is choking Martin, and his consciousness is faltering. He never feels so desperate like this ever.

'If I could just have the powers to save them. Suppose I could be stronger enough to defend them. If I could just be...' His inner desires once again deepen towards a mysterious depth he never knew he had.

For his whole life, this is the wish he greatly desired the most from the deepest part of his heart that even his soul, unknowingly, produced sounds of ripples invisible to human eyes but flavorful and tangible to other beings.

Maybe it was the odor of despair or the taste of death. No one knows why. 

--------------

Then, after these very few words, all the shouts and noises are sharply stopped by two gunshots, and the house is plunged into a silent zone as if everything that had happened is just illusions. 

All the expected good results are swept away, Martin knows as well as Theresa.

Tears unknowingly leak out from the eyes of Martin, his face looks more dazed and lost, and a forcefully suppressed muffled cry came from Luther beside him as well from the wardrobe across them. 

Both of them knew in their hearts that their 'eldest brother' and loving father was lost—forever.

Maybe this hopelessness is what those people suffering from injustices are feeling.

The drive to help your loved ones but your too weak; the urge to punch the people who made your family cry, but you do not have the ability; the guilt and sorrow eating you inside, and no matter what you do or think, you cannot stop this feeling gnawing inside of you that you are nothing but a frail minuscule being in front of influential people.

If his life were not being threatened, his knees would have collapsed.

 He is so lost because his father was his light and pillar. He learned a lot of things from him. How to become a good person, become a better model for his siblings, and appreciate the goodness in others.

Once again, Martin wishes, 'If you are a God... then be a God. If you have the power, use... that power... because if I am given that same power... I'll never be useless... God.'

He is a mighty being. He can save everyone, but why not do it? Does He like seeing His creations tormented and shattered?

Then and there, a wish is just a wish. Wishful thinking will not save his father. It needs action to receive justice.

He was his father's pride, but tonight, he failed his 'elder brother.'

Remorse and guilt undulate on the teenager's face of Martin. Yes, he is but a child. But, if it is only death, he could join his father to the Land of Promise their religion assured them after they die.

"Click. Pa..." Someone partially opened the door of the cabinet with a subdued childish shout and then instantly closed again.

His sister was also an avid fan of their father, so Martin knows Annie tried to open the door. 

He remembers that she is always at their front door every afternoon at five, raining or not, to await the arrival of their father, plus her favorite donut. 

For the last four years, this did not change since Annie learned to stand independently and said a few audible and coherent words. Annie would prepare their father's set of slippers and clothes for change.

'What a poor princess, my sister." Martin thought despondently.

Then, even though the rain is heavy and loud, he hears the knob twist. 

He feels goosebumps. His arrector muscle tenses, and his eccrine glands work up. 'They are coming.'

With a few more lightning strikes across the sky and long grumbling of thunder, the house of the Alma family temporarily found peace.

But this 'peace' is quickly shattered with another pair of, "Bang! Bang!"

Their room is opened wide for the wrong people to enter. Martin knows their life is on the line and realizes the possibility that their entire family might meet the same fate their father just had.

#Bang!

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