Anathema

My mother is ill. That’s what she said in the letter she sent me, asking me to come back home to our village and take care of her. Sensing the urgency from her letter, I’m guessing that her illness is grave.

I’ve been living in the city for the past ten years. When I moved to the city to study, I never tried to come back home— not even once. I felt free and happy in the big, bustling city filled with a variety of people, unlike the isolating feeling from the monotonous lifestyle that I had in the village.

For the ten years I didn’t come back, the memory of the people and the village had faded, buried so deep in my mind that I sometimes forgot they ever existed. The only thing that reminded me of their existence were the letters that I received from my mother.

The village has no internet connection. It is a century away from technology, likely due to the fact that the villagers are extremely conservative and religious. They view technology as an enemy rather than a tool that could improve their standard of living. That’s why my mother still sends me letters instead of contacting me through a mobile phone. I’m not even sure if the villagers know what a cellular device is, including my mother. However, just like them, I wasn’t as knowledgeable before as I am now. If my father hadn’t told me about the city before he died, I wouldn’t have even aspired to leave the village and seek something more. I am very grateful to him for that. Thanks to him, I even became a communications director in one of the biggest companies in the city.

In full honesty, I didn’t want to go back to the village. I already have a new life in the city— a life that I want. When I chose the city over the village, my mother was disappointed and hurt. She wanted me to stay, but I didn’t want to stay— I wanted to leave. I wanted a life of my own— a life where I could achieve my dreams, and if I’m going to stay, then that’s not going to happen, so I left. She probably treated my departure as me leaving her, not the village. We parted with bitter feelings, and now that she’s asking me to come back to take care of her, I just want to return to mend our fractured relationship and alleviate her suffering because she’s still my mother.

Thus, after hours of traveling on a ship to return to our province, I still need to spend more hours on the road to get to our village. So I hailed a taxi and got inside when one stopped in front of me.

“Good day, Sir! Where can I take you today?” the driver asked with enthusiasm and a broad smile, starting the engine of the taxi.

I smiled back. “Can you take me to Greenpen?”

The smile on his face suddenly faded. “Greenpen?”

“Greenpen,” I repeated, nodding my head. “Is something wrong?”

“N-nothing’s wrong,” he stuttered, laughing nervously. “I-I can take you there.”

That’s suspicious, but I chose to ignore it. If something’s going on in the village, then I’ll just find out when I get there.

“Can I sleep?” I asked. “I’m sorry, I’m just so tired from traveling for so long.”

“It’s all right,” he assured me. “This is going to be a long ride. I’ll just wake you up.”

“Thank you,” I uttered, putting on a neck pillow and settling into a comfortable position to sleep.

Due to exhaustion, I fell into a deep slumber right after I closed my eyes.

I woke up when I felt a slight nudge on my shoulder. With my eyes still closed, I asked the driver, “Have we arrived?”

However, after a minute of waiting for a response, no one answered. So, I slowly opened my eyes to look around. But the first thing that I saw was not the face of the driver, but the face of a child. She was so close that I could feel her cold, heavy breathing on my face, sending shivers down my spine. Seeing her appearance, my heart skipped a beat. Her face, her neck, her shoulders—her whole body was covered in burns.

“William…” Her small voice almost frightened me once she opened her mouth. However, hearing the desperation coming from it, the fear that I initially felt turned into concern. “Don’t come back…”

“What…?” I asked, my voice was almost a whisper.

However, before she could answer my question, her body started to melt. Her flesh began to fall away, piece by piece. Some of it even got on me. I could feel the slimy sensation of the molten flesh on my skin and smell the reeking odor emanating from it. Before I could even realize it, I was screaming my lungs out.

“Hey! Wake up!”

I woke up feeling nauseated. The driver was shaking me like there’s no tomorrow, trying to wake me up. When he saw that I finally regained my consciousness and opened my eyes, he immediately stopped.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You’re sweating and moaning, I decided to wake you up. Did you have a nightmare?”

“I’m okay…” I replied, trying to catch my breath.

“Here,” he uttered, handing me a bottle of water.

I immediately took it and gulped it all down. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was until the water filled my mouth. And, while drinking, I couldn’t help but to think of that nightmare. What is that even supposed to mean? How was it so vivid? Was it my id showing what I truly want through a nightmare? I don’t really want to go back, do I?

“We’re already a mile away from Greenpen,” said the driver. “This is how far I can go. You can start walking from here.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “Why can’t we go straight to Greenpen?”

The driver avoided my gaze. “That place is weird…”

Is he referring to the extreme conservatism and religiousness of the villagers? “I know what you mean.”

“Then I’ll go now,” he replied, giving me a strained smile.

I tried to smile back before stepping out of his taxi.

“Take care, Sir,” he saluted me.

After watching him take off, I turned my back and shifted my gaze to the direction of the village. Even from a mile away, I could already see it. My hand moved to my chest as I felt my heart starting to beat as loud as a drum. I’m almost there.