I tend to be quiet at all times. Sitting at the corner of our classroom mesmerized by those flying birds' simple ways of living.
Our house seemed emptier than before. For my parents are always out. My father spent more time at the casino. And going to the bar with his friends. My mother leaves early and comes home late most of the time. I don't know their status or even care for their marriage, for I was tired at the quarrels and shouting.
They had my father's adopted nephew to stay at our house so I wouldn't be left alone. Stephen was older than my eldest brother. He stopped studying in college to work. The best part was he did all the household chores while I go out and play. I always play all day, from sunrise to sunset. Eat the food that my cousin prepared on the long table. And do my homeworks before going to bed. I technically learned how to adjust and live each day. And on those nights when my parents weren't home, I open the radio and stand on my bed and dance. I twirl and twirl and jump and sing and laugh all by myself.
Neither did everyone know. That I open the radio to hide my shrieks and sadness. To conceal those dead hopes of waiting. I laugh to fool no one that I am crying. I jump believing that I could drop all the tears on my bed and spin so that no one will notice. Neither my parents know that I do my homeworks at night hoping that one of them would come home early and help me answer them. Neither did they know that I do not finish the food on my plate. Neither did they know that I'd rather stay outside our house not only to give myself that fake sense of happiness in playing but also to make myself safe.
Neither did they know that I was being molested by my cousin.