CHAPTER 1 — LOST AT EIGHTEENI was lost at eighteen.I grew up in a chaotic family of eight siblings — two girls and six boys — and I ranked sixth. Our eldest was my sister, the one who carried most responsibilities when our parents couldn’t. Sa aming magkakapatid, tatlo lang ang nakapag-aral ng college. Yung iba, maagap nag-asawa; yung iba naman, nalulong sa ipinagbabawal na gamot.Pero noong una, maganda naman ang takbo ng buhay namin. Kung may trabaho si Papa, masarap ang pagkain sa hapag. Kung wala, magtatyaga kami sa asin at mantika. Contractor si Papa sa iba’t ibang construction projects — bodegas, gym, cremations, kung ano-anong puwede. Pero minsan, nawawalan ng project, kaya dagat ang takbuhan. Mangunguha kami ng alimasag, tahong, talaba, kung anong puwedeng ma-ulam o maipagbili.Si Mama naman, isang plain housewife — tahimik pero matibay.Nagsimula ang lahat na mag-iba noong natuto gumamit ng droga ang pangalawa kong kuya. Sa una, marijuana lang. Pero nauwi sa shabu, at unti-unti siyang natutong magsinungaling, magnakaw, at masira ang pag-iisip niya. Unti-unti, pati ibang kapatid ko nadamay — natutong gumamit at magbenta.Unti-unting nagbago ang bahay:Mas maraming sigaw.Mas maraming away.Mas maraming gulong hindi ko maunawaan.Nakikita ko sa mga mata ni Papa ang bigat na dinadala niya araw-araw. Ang pangarap niya: may anak siyang makapagtapos ng kolehiyo.Doon ako nangarap para sa sarili ko — at para sa kanya.Hindi ako matalino, pero hindi rin bobo. Madiskarte, masipag, at kahit papaano, napapasama sa honorable mention. Gusto ko talagang magturo, gusto ko maging teacher. Pero ayaw ni Papa.“Simula bata ka, nasa school ka na. Hanggang pagtanda mo, doon ka pa rin magtatrabaho?” sabi niya, habang nakakunot ang noo.
Kaya sinabi ko:“Pag pulis na lang ako, Pa. Para matigil sa bisyo ang mga kapatid ko.”Umiling siya.“Sa desk ka lang mapupunta. Hindi sinasama ang babae sa engkwentro.”At sa huli, siya ang nagbigay ng pangarap para sa akin:“Mag-nursing ka na lang. Baka sakaling matawagan ka ng tita mo, madala ka sa Italy.”There was a spark in his eyes I hadn’t seen in years.So I said yes — for him. Not because it was my dream — but because I wanted to be the dream he held on to.I took the entrance exam.I passed.And I entered one of the most prestigious schools in our province.First year, mataas ang grades ko.Napasama ako sa dean’s list.Nailipat pa ako sa section ng mga honor students.Pero doon nagsimula ang takot ko.In a school full of children of businessmen, politicians, hacienderos, and OFWs…ako lang ang walang-wala.I didn’t know where to fit in.At dahil don, nakisama ako sa mga hindi ko dapat sinamahan.Natuto akong mag-inom.Manigarilyo.Mag-discoland.At magpalit ng boyfriend parang nagpapalit ng damit.My beauty became a curse.Half-Chinese, 5’4, payat, hubog na hinangaan ng marami —and I used it to hide everything I felt inside.
My father came home only four times a month.Pag alam kong uuwi siya, nagkukunwari akong puyat sa gawaing pang-eskwela —ikinakalat ko ang libro sa kama.Habang ang totoo, galing ako sa inuman.Kinakain ako ng konsensya tuwing nagbibigay siya ng allowance.Nakikita ko ang pagod sa kamay niyang may kalyo at nanginginig sa pasma.Pero sa mga panahong iyon…ang makamundo kong kagustuhan ang nanalo.At doon ako nasira.Nasilaw ako sa material na bagay.Nakisama ako sa maling tao.Malakas ang makamundong tukso.Hanggang sa isang gabi —sumuko ang katawan ko.Hanggang sa naospital ako dahil sa sobrang inom.Sobrang sakit ng tiyan ko, halos hindi ako makahinga sa kirot.Nasa third year na ako noon, student nurse sa mismong hospital na iyon.At doon ko unang nakita si Dr. Adrian Mondia —the resident doctor assigned to my case.Maputi.Naka-eyeglasses.Mukhang batang Harry Potter.Hindi katangkaran, kaya hindi ko agad type —dahil type ko tall, dark, and handsome.Pero may kung anong tahimik sa mga mata niyang hindi ko maipaliwanag.While assessing my abdominal pain, he asked me to lift my gown for an ECG.When he looked at me, I saw something flicker — surprise, embarrassment, something he tried to hide behind professionalism.His cheeks flushed despite the cold air of the room; a bead of sweat formed near his temple.
For a moment, I wondered what he saw.I spent four days confined.On the fifth, they discharged me.And despite everything I’d been through, that very night —I went drinking again.Fate has a strange sense of humor.A man approached our table.“Pasyente kita, di ba? Kakalabas mo lang. Bawal ka uminom.”My tongue was loose with alcohol.“Andiyan ka naman, doc. Kung may mangyari sa’kin.”I took a good look at him.“Ano ginagawa mo dito? Hindi ka bagay sa ganitong lugar.”He smiled, a shy, amused smile.“Boring sa ibang bar. Dito mas buhay. Malapit pa sa hospital.”We talked. We drank.And somehow, he didn’t feel like a doctor and I didn’t feel like his patient.He felt like someone I had known in another life.Then it happened — unexpected, impulsive.I kissed him.It was fierce, heated, reckless — exactly like the girl I was becoming.Past one in the morning, he suggested coffee to sober up. I agreed.We drove around, searching for an open shop, but every place was closed.I fell asleep in his car.When I opened my eyes, we were in a hotel.“Anong nangyari?” I whispered, fear creeping into my voice.
“You fell asleep,” he said gently.“I didn’t know your address. Your phone was dead. I went back to the bar, but your friends were gone.”He sounded sincere.Concerned.Careful.And that was the night everything in my life began to shift — again.