Chapter 8 #2
Or is it because I’m the only one who sees Pa?
Wait, no. That is not your father! It’s a hallucination!
He/she/they/it (I don’t know what pronouns hallucinations use!) looks at me, then turns to my sister. “Jackie?” The hallucination tries talking to Achi, but she never turns his/her/their/its way.
“I, uh…” I try to steady my voice while blinking away the water still hitting my eyes. “I forgot to take off my clothes before going in the shower.”
“You … forgot?” Achi asks, rightfully bewildered.
“Yeah, so I got surprised when I turned on the water and I wasn’t naked,” I casually explain while grabbing the towel. No matter how much I wipe my eyes, the hallucination is still there, peering at me.
I drown out the hallucination’s voice in the background that still sounds eerily like Pa’s.
“You know, I never realized how big this bathroom is.” I stretch and move my arms so I’m gesturing in the hallucination’s direction. “Did you ever realize that we can fit three people in this bathroom? Wouldn’t that be cool if we had three people here right now?”
Achi pauses and frowns. “Why would you need to fit three people in one bathroom?”
Oh god. She really doesn’t see the Pa clone literally hovering in the bathroom. Maybe it’s for the best. Better to have a family with one lone delusional person versus a family with two.
“Nika? Jackie?” We suddenly hear Ma’s voice.
Achi stops me when I reach for the door. “Don’t let Ma see you like that.”
I wriggle out of her grip and rush out of there. Maybe my hallucinations are location-specific. It’s like when my phone malfunctions whenever I leave Manila. Leaving the bathroom might be like a factory reset that will revert my mind to normal functioning.
“Why are you all wet?” Ma says when she sees me walk out in my soaked pajamas.
I’m too stressed to even make a joke.
“Baka mapasma ka niyan,” Ma scolds me. “Go change before you get sick!”
My heart almost jumps out of my chest when the hallucination pops up beside me again. I shoot he/she/they/it daggers when Ma’s distracted. Get away from me, demonic spirit!
Ma keeps on listing all the ways I can get sick from wearing wet clothes, so I guess it’s safe to say that she doesn’t see the ghostlike figure either.
Then I hear the hallucination’s voice again.
“Your mom got so mad at me when I convinced her to dance in the rain before.” The hallucination’s tone grows more distant as he recalls the memory. “We both got a fever the next day.”
I’m about to go ahead and ignore the voice when it hits me. If this is an actual hallucination, then whatever it’s saying is supposed to be what I’m thinking, right?
… So why is the hallucination giving me brand-new information?
“Um. Ma?” I interrupt her while she’s raiding our medicine cabinet. “Any chance … did you ever dance in the rain?”
“How did you…” Ma gives me a surprised look, then shakes her head. “This is why I want you to learn from my past mistakes, Nika. My temperature hit thirty-nine degrees Celsius because of that.”
What does it mean when my hallucination is speaking the truth? Does that mean I’m less or more delusional?!
Ma shoves vitamin C capsules in my hand while the hallucination says, “Did you know that vitamin C is Spanish?
“It’s Spanish for vitamin Yes.” The hallucination hobbles over in laughter. “Get it? Because C sounds like sí?”
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. I’m definitely turning more delusional.
“Annika.” My body jolts when Ma calls my attention. “Are you even listening to me?”
“?Sí! I mean, y-yes,” I stammer, and tell Ma I’m going to go change.
I keep snapping the hair tie on my wrist and escape to my bedroom, ignoring the hallucination that keeps trailing behind.
The panic in my chest continues growing while I stuff my books and notebooks in my backpack.
I shove more things inside as I ignore the voices in my head that are suggesting that (A) I might be hallucinating, (B) I might be haunted by a demonic spirit, and most of all (C): What if this is actually my dad?
No, no, NO! Shove that thought down, deep to the back of your head so it’s buried for good. There’s no way that Pa could come back … ever. You’ve been over this, your whole family has been over this. Why can’t you get over this?!
I resist the urge to spiral into a complete meltdown when I feel the hallucination silently watching my every move.
The hallucination only speaks when I grab my school uniform from the closet.
“You’re really going to get sick if you don’t change out of your wet clothes.”
And that’s the moment I lose it.
“Go away!” I yell, and throw my towel at the hallucination, which sails right through the Pa-shaped illusion and lands on the floor.
Then I hear him use Pa’s nickname for me in his voice—and it feels like my heart stops beating.
“Superstar?” the hallucination says again after a beat. “Nika, how old are you now?”
This was what looking into Pa’s eyes felt like.
I’d always search for Pa in the audience during every show I was a part of.
My dad was the reason I discovered that people could smile through their eyes.
Every time I locked eyes with him, I always got the message that he sees me, that he’s there for me.
Getting that same look now makes my heart crack open at the possibility.
“My bunso,” he says, his eyes glistening when he calls me his youngest child again.
“Ang liit mo pa when I last saw you. Parang kailan lang…” The hallucination’s gaze then flits up to the snowflakes on the ceiling.
“I remember putting up these stickers. You asked me to play those songs from that Disney movie…”
“Frozen,” I whisper.
“Your mother kept telling me not to enable you because seeing snow here is impossible. But I said—”
“That’s why we dream bigger,” we say in unison.
We lock eyes again and my heart feels like it’s lodged in my throat.
My backpack and all the books I stuffed inside fall off my bed and crash on the floor …
and I don’t care. Who cares about school, about my drenched pajamas, about my sister hogging the kitchen?
Who cares when there’s a chance that this could really be my dad?
… Could it really be him?
…
“Pa?”