Shipped Off

It was suspicious. My mother gathered all of us in the living room. Kelsea was called from her apartment. She had moved out five years ago. She now shares an apartment with a roommate and lives side-by-side with her boyfriend. It was a three-hour trip by car.

Usually, Mom gathered the family when there was a huge announcement.

I silently prayed that she doesn't go in front of us in the living room and look so sick she might throw up.

Most of the time, when she did that, it was horrible news, and I didn't need any of that right now.

But when her eyes met mine, I just knew that whatever was coming was inevitably something I wouldn't like.

"Kate, honey, I'm really grateful to have you back after that terrible accident. Heaven forbid, I could have lost a child, and I honestly do not know how to take that."

 Dad pulled me close and planted a kiss on the crown of my head while Mom was yet to be done with her speech.

"I know that you think we're being paranoid, ridiculous and everything else that you could think in that pretty little head of yours, but we can't just not worry about you, honey."

"Please, Mom. I need you to be straightforward. What is it?" I said, getting irritated by her stalling.

My mother took a deep breath. She looked at my father, who gave her an encouraging nod.

"I think it would be best for you to be elsewhere for a while, Kate." 

I stared at my mother, my heart thrumming inside my chest. This was not fair.

"I called your aunt Hilda, and she has agreed to take you in."

"What?" I heard Kelsea second my reaction. "Mom, you can't be serious," Kelsea voiced my exact thoughts.

"I don't get it," I uttered, finally breaking my silence and untangling myself from my father's hold.

"What are you hiding so bad that you're going to ship me across the country just for me to avoid making contact with whatever or whoever that is?"

I was hysterical. I looked around the room with wild eyes.

"What is going on?"

"It's for your own good, Kate," Dad spoke. As usual, he had been silent this whole time, allowing Mom to take control.

"No," I said, shaking my head and gradually stepping away from them. "You can't make me!"

With that, I stormed towards the stairs and slammed my door shut.

--

I plugged in the earphones in my iPod, the only gadget my parents allowed me to have, and hit my playlist. I slid it into one of the front pockets of my jeans as I took my luggage off the checkout counter.

I didn't exactly know where to go next. I was pretty unfamiliar with this specific airport.

People were heading towards the automatic sliding doors quite a distance from where I stood.

It won't hurt if I follow. I was scared to ask.

People might look at me funny.

I had already received a few of those while riding the last two plane rides I needed to reach my destination.

I didn't need more of that.

The heat welcomed me as I finally stepped out.

There were few people, given that the airport was small and not crowded.

Craning my neck from left to right, I almost missed the signage with my full name except for the one holding the said material.

I went near the person and tried to squint up to see his face better.

"Fat Face?" My doubts died that very instant.

"Alien," I confirmed, and this time, I gave his face a hard look hoping my eyes were only deceiving me, but I guess they weren't.

It was indeed Allen the alien, my beloved cousin with whom I shared quite an unforgettable childhood.

---

Aunt Hilda seemed more than happy to have me in her humble home. But her house was far from modest.

I didn't pay much attention to the highway while my cousin drove, but I did see a sign saying Pacific Shores when he swerved the car out of the road.

There were beautiful houses around.

Aunt Hilda's was one of those too.

It wasn't surprising, either. Her late husband was a retired general of the US Army.

They had stayed in the States for five years, then Aunt Hilda decided she couldn't last the winter season and asked if they could go to her home country.

Her husband was kind and agreed to her proposal.

Since then, they have been in the Philippines for as long as I can remember.

Aunt Hilda was my biological father's only sister. The birth father I didn't have the chance to meet. He died before I was born.

Cancer is a kick-ass. Apparently, it cost my real father's life.

Although I didn't have the chance to know him, Mom showed me his pictures. He was a striking man. He was a lung doctor, which was ironic because he died of lung cancer.

I was told he was a great guy and would have been a great dad if only he had lived.

I find it sad.

Three years after she was widowed, Mom met Daniel Pears, and up until now, they were still together.

Though there were times that Kelsea would mention how she missed our biological father, our little family was happy.

Despite also the fact that mom and Daniel didn't have their own kid, we were intact.

Thinking about them, I almost broke down and begged my aunt to book me a return ticket heading home.

Aunt Hilda might have noticed my despair, but she mistook it for exhaustion from the long trip.

Who was I to argue?

I can't ruin her joy in having me here by simply asking her to bring me home.

It was heartless, and I wasn't like that.

This may not turn out so bad.

Maybe this might work.

Besides, this was only a temporary arrangement.

I'm looking forward to going home, but I will enjoy my stay here while it lasts.

Maybe after this was over, my parents would finally give me the answers I needed.