Dark Minds

I don't know where to start..

My head hurts , My eyes felt droopy , I'm tired and I want to sleep but for some reason..I can't.

'Mother' was still shouting. Everyone fell into silence as her voice continues to echo through the house and into our DARK MINDS. The sun had already fallen and everyone was exhausted. After school it was reasonable for us to go home and do simple household chores but some people just can't see through your effort..

" Useless! Is this how I raised you!? If I'd known you'll be like this then forget about living here! Get out! I don't need some useless trash tainting my house! " She growled.

All of us were already in bed , silently listening to tiger's roars. We always sleep in one room and tonight was no exception. Lights were already turned off and other than the oppressing voice , the sounds of aircondition drowned our silence.

The 'You' in every sentence refers to all of us and by all of us I meant; us grandchildren. Yup , we call our grandmother a mother. Our biological mother left us in the hospital every time she gets pregnant. I was the first born and yes , I have (two) half siblings born from different fathers.

Although she's still alive and took the effort of being the same , she was that kind of person where if you met her once , tolerated her twice and never wanting to meet again. To put it as bluntly as possible , She's a Bitch whose than a bitch.

'Mother' rapped like there's no tomorrow. Only after waiting for three hours did she stopped fuming and headed upstairs to bed with her kids. Even though she stopped , every word she said was replaying in my mind.

Useless..

Trash..

'How I raised you...'

Although I'm used to hearing it , I keep wondering why every time those words are said it will be stuck in my head for a long period of time.

* * *

" I don't feel like going to school.." I heard Cheska mutter as she drag those legs of hers down the stairs.

Her curly hair was tied into a bun despite being wet , she moves like some wild kids out on the road and was usually fearless. Somehow she inherited our mom's sharp tongued language which can be commonly heard around squaters or gangsters.

After third grade , my sister Cheska and our younger brother Kylo was sent to the province of Abra for three years. They returned home last month and was immediately fed up with all the nagging.

Atleast it's best than staying here with her the whole day , I thought to myself.

We left the house with the other two children. I've got to say.. They're a handful. So much that I'm losing my cool.

" Frankie! Kiko! Stop running! You'll fall! " I shouted but it wasn't that loud. After all , we're clearly in public and we are easy to spot especially with this green and yellow uniform standing out to this dark gloomy world where the colors are darker than what they usually are.

Cheska sneered. " Let them be. If they fall all we need to do was to laugh. 'Mother' won't be there to defend them anyways "

Seeing them turn a blind eye to my warning , I inwardly cursed them out while adjusting my pace. Like Cheska , I'm not concerned for them getting hurt but if they did then the blame is on us.

The school was a bit far away and we're walking there by foot , by the time we entered the gate; sweat covered my forhead and my body was like a fish straight out from the frying pan.

So HOT!

I mean.. What do you expect if your living in the Philippines?

It was currently 7:00 in the morning and you can see every student entering the gates , rushing towards the open court to start the flag ceremony.

Great..maybe this time around I'll be overcooked..

Perhaps it was because we've been transferring schools quite often but this school was held second in my mind in terms of memories.

Since our biological mother got pregnant very early , she stopped studying before she could even move up to second year highschool. After giving birth to our youngest brother she fled away for three years.

I was five years old when she returned , low-key thought she was another maid our 'mother' hired back then. With that , reality instantly slapped my chubby five year old face and refused to believe everyone when they said she was our real mother.

You can't blame me though , She was cruel and sharp - tongued like grandma , only , she's been into drugs recently and would occasionally leave for a couple of months or years before returning like a lost puppy.

Everytime she would come home or would stay home , she would find faults in our movements and beats us up as if we were animals in a circus.

As a child , I don't know much and my thinking was slightly slower than my average peers. My mom would beat me into a pulp ; slapping me in the face , hitting me with everything she can hold and when I bleed she would say sorry , a sorry that was obviously fake.

Who knows what she did to make grandma tolerate her sh*t and let her return into studying again. What's worse was that she was studying in the school me and my siblings were studying , limiting my freedom of making friends and having fun.

Everytime quizes and exams are held , teachers would remind the students to let their parents sign onto the papers before placing it back into the envelope. They would also compare the students grades , rank them and place them outside for the others to see.

I was dumb so I hid all of my quizes and returned them to our adviser telling her that my parents are busy to avoid getting another bruise.

When our mom checked the bulletin board and found out I'm not in the top ten you can kind of guess what happened next..

After class , I was dragged into the room and was severly tossed around. If it weren't for my classmates accidentally coming in while playing the famous series "walking dead" then she would have forcefully bang my head onto the wall , killing me with another blow.

It was so embarassing I had to stop talking to everyone and would occationally say something related to school.

Diliman Christian Institute was by far , the school I never want to return again but because of financial problems I have no choice but to concede rather than attened public schools.

The principal , Sir Jerry and the assistant principal , Sir Allan are my 'mother's friends so there's obviously a bit of change in the rules. When she can't pay the tuition fee in time she would inform the two and the cashier , Ma'am Lin and they would remind her to pay it by the end of the year.

This 2017 is the start of my highschool. After years of stictness and suffering I gain the habit of not talking to others , minding my own business and talking only when someone starts a conversation with me.

I was that simple. I grew to hate people equally. Whatever was trending in the world , I would never know unless I evesdrop.

Rushing into my 7th grade classroom , I immediately headed towards the last seat of the last row to avoid attention. Placing my bag behind me , I quietly surveyed the surroundings.

Sure enough , they're here. Some of my classmates from grades two and three was still here. Coincidentally , they were the ones who entered the classroom at that time..

Hopefully they won't remember me..

I kept my head down as soon as I saw their faces. I was nervous of what they'll remember if they saw me.

Edmund Jake Guillermo..

Mark Christian Macasling..

They were famous throughout the school for being energetic and comedians. Everytime the two were together the place would be lively.

Edmund has great leadership , Mark on the other hand...I don't seem to remember. Either way , both are in the top ten and are smart. Ed's rank in sixth and fifth place are very secure while Mark's rank can be said to be random.

Although both are very friendly and nice , the way they tease people cannot be underestimated. If you continue to argue back , you'll only be able to cut your own tongue and be purely humiliated infront of the entire class.

I'd say pure because I remember that everyone in my class are friends if not friends then best friends. You can't say your friends if you don't tease and bicker about other things , right?

A year passed by just like this.

March of 2018 , one of the worse years of my life ( so far)

Previously , I hated DCI (Diliman Christian Institute) and tolerated it for a year. My relationships with my classmates at that time were just classmates.

I don't expect us to be friends at all , considering the fact that I'm not good at it. Whenever I tried it really gets worse by the day.. I noticed that when I was in my fourth to sixth grade.

Grandma , depite changing her religion to Christianity , she herself didn't change. She would shout and throw daggers at the same time for the tiniest mistakes , her words getting sharper and deadly as time goes by.

" The hell is this? " I mutter to myself while answering my papers. This..doesn't seem like the lesson my teachers were teaching me before..

I felt like I'm reading another language without a dictionary or translator. (¬_¬)

I am currently inside the DEPED department to retrieve my LRN. The school I transferred in wasn't registered in DEPED and the students planning on transfer schools like me needed a registered LRN so that we can be recognized as the school's students.

LRN is very important.

Every child in the Philippines needs this so that whenever they transfer schools , the current school they were planning to enroll would record their LRN number into their school forums and send it to DEPED to report that there is such a person in their premises.

In short , I'm supposed to transfer school this coming eighth grade but was turned down because I don't have an LRN. We asked DEPED if I can avoid studying in elementary all over again. They say I have to take an exam worth 4th to 6th grade. All the lesson I took brfore was said to be here but when I began the exams it doesn't seem they were telling the truth at all.

What is this!?

I was so frustrated I wanted to tear the papers apart. Why am I so dumb?

By the time I finished the exams , my brain was already holding a funeral for all my dead braincells , heroically died for the sake of earning LRN.

Me and my grandma headed home afterwards and began our daily routine of cleaning the house , though , my movements were a bit sloppy from the news.

In two months I'll be returning back to DCI for my eighth grade. What a pity..