THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, establishment, is purely coincidental.

[Please be advised that this story may include the use of foul words as a joke/expression only.]

Enjoy reading.

•••

I'm on my way home from work. Here in our small village, the people live peacefully and quietly except for the group of women I came across gathering around the corner.

The four mothers gathered near the pole and at the house of Susan, who was also a member of that organization. I secretly call their group; neighborhood heroes. They are the organization of women who are quick to flash the latest news that features some citizens from our village. They are the virtual living CCTV of our area and they monitor the people here 24/7.

“He's back! My husband saw him at dawn, he was all alone!” said Susan, which I know that she started the gossip and their topic.

Because their voices were loud, I could hear their conversation. I really intentionally slow down my walk to catch their strong signal bar and internet connection flash news on the spot.

“OMG sis! What would we do now? That man still has a curse! I won't let my daughter out so that he wouldn’t get an eye on her!”

“I thought his life was great in manila, he should have just stayed there! Look, he came back with that demonic curse!”

“Looks like I would have to pray every day, sis!”

“Same, sis!”

I just shake my head by what they were talking about because I didn't know what they were referring to, but only now I think they have become so religious all of a sudden, because I never actually seen them pray or go to church, they only go there during December twenty-four or holy week. If they pray in their homes, I do not know.

I just earnestly walked home towards our street corner. I live in a small house made only of plywood and galvanized iron. Our village can be compared to a squatter’s area but there are still people who are rich and uplifted in life ... we are the only ones that is left poor in this village because most of the locals work in Manila or worked abroad as an OFW.

“Mom, I'm here!” I greeted her when I entered the door and took off my wedge sandals that I had just bought at a bargain price.

I was a little shocked when I saw my mother because she was kneeling in front of the altar. I then looked at my cheap watch that I bought at an online shop to check the time. My mother often prays at the altar every morning and before going to bed but it's only six o'clock in the evening... it’s too early for her to pray.

“Isn't it too early for you to pray, mom? It's only six o'clock?” I said as I approached the table where the pitcher and glasses sat.

When you enter our house you can immediately see the kitchen, dining room, living room, and bathroom. He was only as big as a small room. We didn't have a bedroom because my mother and I slept in the living room, near the altar. We lay the mat and there we slept. My older brother, on the other hand, sleeps at the long chair made of bamboo that looks like it has a bug, so every weekend, mom sprays gas all over it.

“What are you praying for there, mom? That we win the lottery? Tss! Don't rely on that! Just pray that the PCSO gives the prize to the poorest of the poor like us, because It's where their money comes from! No rich person bets on the lottery. “ I said while drinking water.

I just watched my mother as she finished praying and also doing the signing of the cross, a sign of her respect and catholicity. She got up on her knees and approached me with his index finger on my forehead.

“You're really hard headed, lourdes! Your too noisy! I'm praying for your safety and you kept on disturbing my praying! What if God can't hear that, huh?” my mother said angrily.

“Why are you praying for my safety? Maybe because of you praying too much, God might take me right away? Come on, mother! Chill! I can take care of myself, I know a little bit of self-defense! Kick their little birdies so they don't to fly!”

And I received another strong rebuke from my mother.

“It's really unfair sometimes in life, the parent can hurt the child but the child can't retaliate because it's bad!” I complained.

“You, lourdes, fix yourself will you? You're twenty-five and you haven't gotten married yet! And that's because of your immodest behavior!”

Here she is again, she's always been like that. Even when I make decisions in life, she always interfere. Parents really! They don’t understand their child at all!

“I'm going to get engaged too, mom! A guy which is rich and handsome! The ones who will take us out of this misery! Just trust me because I can find that too! Not now but maybe soon?”

“Ohh, lourdes, get your life in order, okay? Besides, it's okay with me for any other man to be your boyfriend as long as it’s not that cursed widowed man!” she said, while her arms are crossed.

“Widowed man? Who?”

“Haven't you heard the rumor around the corner? Crisanta's son, Samuel, has returned from Manila! Your childhood friend that you used to play with the other kids?”

I struggled to remember the man she mentioned and it took a few more minutes before I remembered him.

“Ahh! The one who moved to Manila four years ago? Did he come home to their mansion-like house? That's great ... it looks like that house won't be a hunted house anymore. Nice!”

“What's nice? It's not nice! You know the gossip with that man. He is cursed by a demon!”

“Mother you’re over reacting!” I said as I approached our drawer to get a change of clothes. “I don't believe in that curse. The fortune teller then who read our palms is purely a hoaxed, that prophecy wasn't true, especially for Samuel.” I continued.

“What's not true, lourdes? The curse that widow has is true! The talk around the corner here are about the women he had a relationship with in manila...”

When I got a change of clothes I went to our small bathroom with the door just a long thick curtain.

“Where did you hear about the relationships he had back then in Manila? Do you have a side line of laundry from there, mother?” I asked with sarcasm.

My mother is a Call-for-laundry woman by those lazy rich people who live in the nearby subdivision here in our area. My older brother, on the other hand, has a sideline in construction. My job was a receptionist in a private company in town with a six -month contract.

“I heard from Susan! You know that godmother of yours, she knows a lot of news around here. Her cousin who is a relative of crisanta told the story when she passed by the place recently ...” my mother said, she was washing the rice, probably, because of the sound of tap water in the sink.

“All of his girlfriends, doesn’t live too long than four months…they all are dead.” Mother’s seriously said.