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Life is not always what we expect to be.
The thought caused me to smile sarcastically. I run my fingers through my tangled hair. Ah, life is a shit, I'd say. If it isn't then why the hell would I stand here at the airport waiting for a certain car to bring me back to the mansion?
My grip tightened at the handle of my suitcase when I saw a familiar limousine approaching. Its texture shines brightly when hit by the rays of the afternoon sun. I repeatedly tapped my right foot into the paved floor of the airport.
For all the years I spent out of this hell – this country, I felt so free. I did what I wanted to do. But my allotted time was finished. I had to go back here and face the end of the deal.
The limousine stopped right in front me. The car was causing many heads to turn. I filled my lungs with polluted air as I watched the familiar face of an old man getting out of the car. The wrinkles beside and under his eyes were already visible as he smiled gracefully to me.
"Miss Kara! Welcome back to the Philippines," Mang Domeng said in a hard accent. His voice was tainted by his age. He took the suitcase and placed it inside the car.
I smiled at his greeting. Mang Domeng was my driver since I was in preschool. Back then, when I chose not to attend classes because I find them too boring, we would go to a play station at my favorite mall. We will stay there all day and go back home when the classes were also finished. Dad thought I am attending classes every day and that remained our little secret during my younger years.
He opened the door for me. I entered and placed myself comfortably in the spacious car.
"How's life here, Mang Domeng?" I asked as he started to drive.
I opened the mini-fridge situated just beside my seat and took out a can of beer. My hand became wet as I touched the beads of icy water on its surface.
"Very okay, Miss. Your dad grew white hair now just like me," he said. Laughing, he raised his hand to his head and disoriented his hair.
I opened the can and took a sip. The refreshing cold liquid relieved the heat of my head. I really don't want to go back here. I preferred to explore the world and write stories of the people I met. But Dad wanted me to manage the business because there was no other person he can rely to.
"I didn't really care about that, Mang Domeng. For now, I really dislike him." Hate was a very strong word so I didn't want to use it often.
"Miss Kara, your dad is just thinking of your future. I know it's not my place to say this," he paused for a while then continued "but writing stories cannot give you an assurance to earn money."
I sighed in disappointment. I am tired of hearing other people reprimanding me about this. I rolled my eyes and put the half-finished can above the mini-fridge. Did everyone think I don't know that thing? I don't care if it won't give me money as long as I would be able to do my passion. I pursed my lips and didn't answer. I am tired of explaining the same thing over and over to them.
I closed my eyes not because I am sleepy but because I don't want to have a conversation with Mang Domeng. I don't want to dislike the only person I am glad to see while staying here. Our mansion was two hours away from the airport and we have an hour and a half left to travel.
I didn't realize that I fell asleep until the abrupt stop of the car woke me up. The can of beer fell on the floor. I slightly raised my foot when the liquid started to flow out of the can. I vividly heard the curse of Mang Domeng.
"What happened, Mang Domeng?"
I looked in front of the car. Did he hit an animal or worse a person? But Mang Domeng was a very careful driver. There was a white sport utility vehicle in front of us. From there, a man wearing a black inner shirt that was topped by a black coat, black pants and shoes got off. His hands were covered by black gloves while holding a gun.
But why was he holding a gun? Oh, shit! He wore a black mask leaving only his eyes for us to see. He started walking over to our car and stop right in front of it. What was he going to do?
Mang Domeng turned to me with fear and regret was evident to his eyes. My eyebrows furrowed as I coiled over to my seat.
"I'm sorry, Miss Kara. Please... please save me," he pleaded as tears started to fall from his eyes.
I took a look at the man outside the car. My eyes widened when he pointed his gun to Mang Domeng. What the hell? Was he going to kill us?
"Please... Miss Kara! Tell him to stop!"
"Why?" I don't even know that man. How can I tell him to stop? I cannot believe this was happening to me. I pressed my hand to my chest. I can almost hear the loud beatings of my heart. My knees started to shake.
"Miss Kara, I am sorry for everything! Please, stop that man to kill me."
He was going to k-kill Mang Domeng? No, I won't let that happen. Not within my watch. Even if I didn't understand why Mang Domeng was sorry, I nodded my head repeatedly. Just to assure him that I am going to stop the man.
But before I can step my foot outside, a muffled shot was heard inside the car. Mang Domeng's hands slowly let go of the steering wheel and landed to his side. There was a small circle with cracks surrounded in it on the windshield of the car.
With my hand covered my mouth, I made my way to see what happened to Mang Domeng. I touch his shoulder but he didn't make a move. That was when I saw the blood flowing from his temple down to his jaw.
"Oh my God, Mang Domeng," I panicked. Why was he not answering me? In my curiousity, I held his chin and pulled his face for me to see.