The Stake of War

ENTRY TWO: The Suspense Broken

Exactly before they came in, I stuffed myself next to my dad under the small sink cabinet. It was pretty damp in there, crawling with insects, dust, and even some tiny fungi. "Who cares? We need to hide pronto!" I explain to my dad the quietest I can, who's having second thoughts on my decision. "Well we could always find another spot-" "Shhhh!!," I interrupt. He already knew there was danger inside, yet he was still yapping about unimportant stuff. I wish he could just shut up for a second considering the situation we were in.

Soon, soldiers filled the room, taking all of our supplies. Water, bread, rice; even our crop seeds were taken. Heck, even my dad's architect tools and pencil case was stolen from his bag! I felt furious on how they could just walk in and steal stuff like that, meanwhile my family had shed blood, sweat, and tears to meet the bare minimum for all of us to survive.

It turns out I wasn't the only one mad, my dad was too. You could see his face turning red like a tomato. You could feel the temperature getting hotter as steam bursts out of his ears. "Those little brats! If only I could pinch their ugly faces right now-", my dad mutters as it looked like horns grew out of his head. I was pressured to disrespect my own father and cover his mouth that sputtered curse words. He looked at me, an eyebrow raised. I defend myself with "What? I don't wanna get killed..". I honestly don't know how the soldiers have noticed us by now.

At that exact moment, they've finished their job. I release a deep sigh in relief, thinking they've left. Oh no was I wrong. I suddenly hear a burst of footsteps walking back to the room. Did I sigh that loud?!?

I hear their general outside the window, seemingly smoking a cigarette from the fumes crowding our small cabinet. Its either I die to the soldiers or suffocate from this foul smoke. My Dad and I decided to hold our breath for the meantime, still trying not to make a single peep.

A few seconds later, I hear a set of Spanish words, mixed with some Tagalog. Who is this guy? The language he was speaking was a secret code for me, yet so familiar.

After getting my thoughts together, I snap back to the real world. Soldiers are exploring every nook and cranny, searching for the source of a sound they heard. One by one, the cabinets open and left ajar. In a few minutes, it all narrowed down to our hiding place. You could see the impatience of the soldiers. Their hands seemed ready to find the culprit.

They called in their general to open the last one, as they had thought we might be danger. I was able to translate their encrypted language. "Andresolo Santos, its your call," a soldier proudly exclaims while giving him a glove. Crazy civilized people sure do love their etiquette.

Those were my thoughts, until I realized. What was meters to the afterlife became inches. My Dad, still upset about the soldiers earlier, sends a quick prayer to God. In these times, all we can really do is pray, no? Oh boy were we lucky the first time.

Through a small crack in the side, I could see the general slow and steadily reaching for the handle. The suspense builds more and more as milliseconds turn into seconds. Finally, he has the grasp of the handle. "Well, I lived a long life-", I jokingly mutter to my father.

The cabinet slowly creaks open; its like we're being revealed to an audience. My heart beats heavily as the situation gets worse. Im really hoping that prayer worked.