The skies had a reddish-black hue, and the moon and the stars were hiding behind a thick layer of clouds. It looks like it is about to rain any moment from now.
My younger brother Ryan had to work even late in the night which leaves me alone to take care of our sickly mother in the dilapidated bungalow house we have been renting since we got kicked out of our own mansion years ago.
Since our father kicked us out of our luxurious mansion and left us, Ryan had to portray the role of being the head of the family and the provider by working multiple jobs during the day and the night.
As I expected, the skies began to let out a terrifying rumble followed by gradual droplets of rain hitting our worn-out rusty roof.
I immediately looked for the pails and bowls we have intentionally put aside for times like this, the roof has multiple holes which makes rainwater flow easily and flood the wooden floor of our small rented house.
"Ma, don't move! Your stomach is going to hurt!" I ran to her make-shift bed to stop her from moving.
Our poor mother completely stopped eating and drinking for three consecutive days already. She refused every spoon of porridge and sips of water I offered.
Since then, she never opened her eyes but Ma would occasionally call my name weakly. I stopped going to school and took care of her not because I am left without a choice but because I love her.
Surely, my younger brother and I knew too well she is not going to make it. But we have always been hopeful that our mother will be well and regain her strength. We are sincerely hoping.
Even with the bad things and negligence we have suffered in our father's hands, never did I curse him or think that he was a bad person. I have always strived to understand him just like how our Mom decided not to talk badly about him in front of us, not even once.
By that, I wanted to emulate my Mom's incredible ability to forgive even though our father did not really show repentance and failed to ask forgiveness.
The rain poured down heavily, creating a dominant and ear splitting sound of the strong rainfall hitting our roof.
Due to the fortified winds coming inside our house made out of the bamboo tree, the flames of the candle withered and eventually died out which was the only source of light in our pitch dark abode.
Panicking, I rushed to our Ma even in the dark using the memory I have of the interior of the small house.
In her 40 years of existence, our mother is the type of person who never wanted to become a burden to others. However, this time in the middle of a storm, she let out a scream due to pain.
My heart's beating quickened as if there were horses galloping inside my rib cage. Even in the dark, the image of our mother squirming in pain while clutching her stomach made the joints of my skinny body go weak and the soles of my feet, as well as the palms of my hands, turn arctic cold as her screams are sounding more and more desperate for help.
A month ago, when my brother was able to save up money by carrying loads in the market and fetching water for neighbors, we brought our mother to a physician to have her checked for the first time.
The doctor seriously scanned through the papers indicating the laboratory results but as soon as he saw them, a grim expression was written on his face.
He sighed before talking to us three, our Ma, my brother, and I who are seated next to each other. I firmly held my mother's bony and cold hands.
"Stage 4 liver cancer. The cancer cells have dominantly progressed to the other organs of her body. For now, we could no longer operate on her as it would be dangerous in her state. All we can do for now is to give her painkillers should the pain occur. By this, she still has three to four months to live." The doctor took off his eyeglasses and let out a deep breath as he wistfully stared at us.
He did not let us pay for the laboratory results and for the consultation fee. On top of that, he gave us a month worth of painkillers and liver food supplements.
"HELP! HELP US!" I cried and sobbed while pleading for help outside our house, hoping that a neighbor might hear and help us bring Ma to the nearest public hospital.
The lights were on in the neighbors' houses but none responded to my plea for help which made me go back inside the house to carry Ma on my back. I am a skinny and tall girl but I was able to carry my mother, I could feel her visible bones on my back.
"Just hang on, Ma! We are already near the hospital!" I sobbed while completely soaking wet from the rain. My Ma is also drenched, her head is rested on my shoulders while her arms are wrapped around my neck.
It was just the two of us walking down the pavement under strong rains and winds. My heart was beating rapidly, afraid that she might not make it.
The hospital is a kilometer away from our isolated house. Due to rushing, I did not even realize that I was not wearing any slippers. My breathing became heavier.
Despite the cold, I could feel a batch of warm and salty tears escape my already wet eyes. I sobbed and sobbed while carrying my mother. It was as if the rain itself shared my grief.
Alas, the hospital! But as soon as we got inside, the few nurses and doctors of our public hospital were busy taking care of patients surging in after a drunken bus driver hit a house by the road where the people inside were badly injured.
Left without a choice, I put our Ma down on the side. Her eyes are closed but as I put my ears close to her skinny chest, she was still breathing, unsteady but she was still there.
I roamed around the emergency room to plead with the doctors to help us.
"Help my mother, please!" I cried with all the tears I didn't know I had. It was pent-up emotions, a combination of long-overdue self-pity, frustration, and anger.
The doctor shoved me away, leaving me lying hopelessly on the floor. My tailbone hit the floor which made getting up difficult. But I crawled to my mother's direction.
Our Ma's head was hung low and her body looked paler than usual. I squinted in pain as I crawled back to my Ma. Our poor mother had to endure everything. Our mother stood by us.
My eyes were burning with tears when I reached the part of the emergency room near the entrance where I placed her. I put my head to her chest to hear the usual beating of her strong heart, nothing.
"No, no." I shook my head and composed myself as I placed my pointer and middle finger on her wrist to check her pulse but there was nothing, just coldness.
Lastly, I extended my hand and put my fingers on her neck but again, nothing is beating anymore. The breaking reality hit me.
Our mother is gone…
Following that, I wailed and waited so loud while hugging my mother's now cold body while my eyes produced an abundant amount of tears that could never ever suffice and express how much in agony I was at that moment.
It was as if the optimistic and forgiving part of me also died along with our poor mother.
I lamented so loud that the nurses and the doctors who once ignored and shoved me away came running to our direction to tend to us.
But it was too late. "Too late you damned assholes." With tears still running down my cheeks and my voice breaking, I cursed for the first time in my life but it felt so great.
It occured to me how much can change in a second or in a minute. When one turns a blind eye to others' suffering, how bad and twisted are you? People like that don't deserve to experience sleep soundly.
May the wailing and lamentations of those oppressed haunt them every second and every minute they decide to ignore.
I hugged our mother's body one last time before my eyes became too heavy and were closing on their own and before everything turned black, I saw my brother running towards our direction all drenched in the rain.