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THE DENIAL
I frowned indignantly at the sight of a smiling man in a baseball cap, black shades, and black sweatshirt, standing outside the gate. He appeared to be in his early thirties. Behind him was a black expensive-looking car. Inside was a bald man in a black suit and shades behind the wheels, unmoving . . . waiting. And then all of a sudden, his forehead creased, as if knowing that someone was looking at him and not liking it. He remained still though.
I diverted my gaze from the motionless driver to the former who was now waving a hand at me . . . still wearing that unnerving smile of his.
Undecided, I widened the crack of the door and stood there with arms across my chest, hands tensely gripping my biceps. There were a gate and a good ten meters between us, but the unsettling sensation in my stomach was still kicking in full tilt. Whoever he was, didn't matter. Someone who knew that there was still a soul living in this house after that incident wasn't to be trusted so easily.
No one is.
"How may I help you, sir?" I finally said in a courteous yet strained voice.
"Miss Celestine Vasquez, is it?"
My right eyebrow twitched instinctively.
Why did I suddenly have a bad feeling about this man?
"It's me," I affirmed, then repeated my question, not forgetting to stress the last word, "How may I help you, sir?"
If it was even possible or just a streak of my wild imagination, his smile grew even wider as he took off his shades, and said, "I believed our humble office did send you yesterday an exclusive invitation for our hotel's pre-opening next month. We have yet to receive a confirmation, so the manager sent me here to see if everything was all right."
The hands holding my arms dug into my skin after hearing it from him, suddenly being reminded of the scam letter I'd gotten yesterday. Even so, I schooled my neutral expression as to not give away my raging skepticism. "Ah, that fancy, red velvet letter with golden EC seal I've got in the mailbox the other day!" I faked my enthusiasm, but the man seemed not to notice it at all since he was still smiling widely. I mirrored him while he waited in anticipation. And then I dropped my smile. "I threw it."
With those words, the seemingly perpetual smile on his face disappeared and was replaced by a comical look of disbelief. His mouth hung open, enough for a fly to cave inside. Even the motionless driver behind the wheels craned his head in my direction, deep wrinkles in his forehead were showing.
"Pardon me, miss?"
"Tinapon, sinunog, tinapak-tapakan, pinunit-punit, pinampunas sa ihi ng alaga kong aso," I rambled on my mother tongue language which somehow made him looked confused. "I'm sorry but you might have sent it to the wrong person. I didn't sign up for those things your humble office offers," I quoted with my hands. "It was tempting, but no thanks." I shot him a strained smile. "Ah! Nice handwriting, by the way. Ma-effort!" I gave him a thumbs-up.
He opened his mouth to speak, but I was way too fast to interject.
"Look, sir. I don't know what kind of scamming group you belong to, but I strongly suggest you stop fooling innocent people around and start living an honest life right now." I tilted my head to the side and raised a brow at him, who seemed to be a bit taken aback. "God is good, it's not yet too late to redeem yourselves," I said, also pertaining to his companion inside the car. "Tu comprendes?"
I turned to get back inside when the stunned man finally got his tongue back and yelled desperately, "But we're a legitimate group, miss!"
I dismissively waved a hand to him as I shut the door behind. He continued rambling things outside though. I shook my head and walked back to the kitchen to continue washing the dishes. That was the plan until he shouted something that right out caught my attention.
"I have proof here! You wrote us a handwritten application letter to avail our exclusive promo a month ago, miss! Here! You wrote to us last year, twenty-sixth of March! You have signed your name here as well! We obtained your address from this letter, too, miss!"
A surge of uneasiness bumped my chest in full throttle. I was held frozen on the spot at what I've had heard. My heartbeat started to pick up its pace as cold sweats began to form on my palms and all over my body. And after a year, the right side of my abdomen started to sting again as if to thoroughly remind me not to forget my guilt-ridden existence. My trembling hand flew to clutch that side.
Did . . . Did I just hear him said March 26th of last year?
In a heartbeat, my feet moved on their own accord towards the door, then across the gate with large strides. I didn't have the luxury to keep my cool as I opened the gate in haste and stopped before the man who was holding an extremely familiar ivory-scented paper on his right hand.
"I swear we're not─wait! That's already a property of─"
I shot him a menacing glare that thankfully shut him up, then proceeded on reading the application letter I snatched from his hand, by which I allegedly wrote.
For a split second, I forgot how to breathe. My throat constricted as I gulped with utmost difficulty.
What was written on it really did support the claim of this man, who seemed to silently wait for my confirmation and reaction.
Them, knowing the house's address, the date it was written, and my name and signature undersigned. It was truly all there.
There was only one problem.
One problem that I couldn't put my fingers on was how. . . and why? A problem that slowly sent chills to my spine.
"Do you believe us now, miss? We're not lying. We're a legitimate group of─"
"This isn't mine," I whispered.
This handwriting . . . It was almost the same, but certainly not mine.
"Huh? But, miss, your name and signature─"
I lifted my intense gaze from the letter in my hand to him. "This isn't my handwriting. Did you get me?"
My tone raised a bit. My vision started to blur, and I could feel my heart being clenched tightly in my chest all over again. It felt as though it was being pounded to ashes─it hurt like hell.
"This isn't my freaking handwriting!" I spat angrily before a strong wave of nausea hit me so hard, making my knees wobbled.
Rich tears began blurring my vision as I found myself seated on the ground, utterly shaken.
The fancy letter in my hands was slightly crumpled due to my tight grip. I could hear the man's concern queries, but I paid him no mind. It was somewhere else─wondering, asking why and how, and thinking of the two people who could have done this.
This handwriting . . .
Not mine. Theirs.
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