(In which I really tried to keep myself from drowning my sister in a basin of soapy water.)
***
“Ate, I’ll be taking a shower. You go wash the dishes, ok?”
I didn’t answer. My mind was drifting to the month ahead of me. My sister just told me last night that she will be having her recital early next year and since I won’t be studying this semester, (Yes, it’s official.) I’d better help her with her finances. So I was thinking of stuffs like Where am I getting to look for a part time job? How am I going to pay all the debts and save for my Graduate education next June? Oh yes, I need to buy a laptop. And how the hell am I going to submit all my paper works in the university without one at home? Before I knew it, she was out of the bathroom. I remembered I need to get to the office early for some preparations for my class and “other things”.
I stood up and headed for the bathroom when she barked at me.
“You didn’t wash the dishes? Are you actually waiting for Mom to do it? Napakasama mo!”
I was taken aback. I looked at her firm figure standing before me, still dripping from the shower. And with a strict face marked by raised eyebrows, she looked like a water monster wrapped in a towel.
“Ok. Fine.” I walked back and faced the sink. She walked upstairs.
So I’m a terribly bad person, huh? If you only knew that I’m going crazy just thinking of how to elevate this family’s financial status! And how dare you address me that way! Have you already forgotten you just actually asked me to give you money for your recital considering I have just finished paying for the money we borrowed for your last recital?
Before I finished washing the dishes, she’s all dressed up – in my earth-colored V-necked, long sleeve blouse!
“Ate, I’ll borrow your blouse, ha?” she asked. I didn’t answer.
“Ate,” she repeated.
Without looking at her, I softly answered, “Fine.” and thought "Wouldn't it be nicer if you'll just bring my closet to your dormitory?"
Then she started singing “Eternal Flame” which sounded like Sylvia La Torre singing “Oops I Did It Again”. I knew she’s just trying to lighten up the mood since she knew I don’t feel good. But I didn’t give a damn to her desperate singing. When I finished my task, I sat down on the couch and it rained. Now she’s singing her newly-composed song with the lyrics “Typhoon Ramil, why are you here?” a-la Broadway musical. I still didn’t bother to respond in any way even if she’s obviously trying to annoy me with her crescendos and desperate falsettos.
“The hell I care with your lousy legatos!” I thought to myself. She continued her crazy song with equally crazy lines until the rain stopped. She went upstairs and took two pairs of sandals. She put them on the floor and got a rug to clean them. I noticed that one of those sandals was my black strappy Natasha! No I can’t keep silent anymore.
“Wait. Before I bought that, you already have yours, right?” I asked coldly.
“I can’t find it now.”
I remembered their choir will be having a performance at Saint Luke’s Medical Center so I didn’t oppose anymore. But hey! I have only used those sandals on my graduation and less than ten times in the office when she uses it every Sunday at work. How sad it is to find your shoes getting older when you’re barely using it?
“I’m leaving,” she said when she got to the door. I didn’t respond.
