Mysteries, Love and Rain

MEA’S POV:

They say you’ll miss a lot of things from your childhood, but nothing compares to the way you’ll long for a mother’s love. When the light of the home disappears, you’ll know what it’s like to grope in the dark.

I still remember the last time we were together. I was only seven years old. The thunder was loud, lightning flashed, the wind howled, and the rain poured hard. My mother knew I was afraid of thunder and lightning, so she gently patted me to sleep while humming a lullaby.

Even as a child, I had many fears—phobias, they say. One of them was loud, sudden noises like thunder. When lightning strikes, you brace yourself, waiting for that loud boom to follow.

There were many strange things about me, things people would eventually discover. But no matter how weird I was, only my mother could calm me down. But that night, our quiet world was about to be shaken.

While my mother was putting me to sleep, someone knocked at the door.

It was a knock that brought anxiety with it. First, one knock. Then another. Then faster and louder, as if in a rush.

My mother went to the door and asked,

“Who’s there? Who’s there?”

“Open the door, Dolor. Hurry! It’s your brother Tonyo!” And when she recognized the voice, she opened the door.

“Brother, what happened? You’re soaking wet! The rain’s strong and you’re out of breath!”

I peeked out and saw my uncle’s eyes wide with fear. He grabbed my mother’s arms and said, “Hurry, you and Mea need to run!”

Then, without another word, he took off running into the rain.

As short as those words were, my mother seemed to understand everything. She quickly grabbed a bag, stuffed it with some of our things, and told me,

“Mea, sweetheart, hurry. Help me. We have to leave now.”

Even though I didn’t understand what was happening, I just followed.

Carrying only one bag and an umbrella, we left the house in the middle of the storm, walking as fast as we could. The thunder and lightning still roared above us, adding to my fear. But as we walked, it seemed like my mother didn’t even know where we were headed, until we stopped at a small store.

I heard her ask to borrow the store’s phone. She said she just needed to make a call. When someone answered, she stepped away and spoke in a low voice—I couldn’t hear what she was saying.

After that call, we kept walking. But I noticed we kept coming back to the same store, again and again, until finally she said to me:

“Sweetheart, stay here, okay? Listen to me. Don’t leave this spot until I come back.”

And my tears started falling.

“I don’t want to!” I said. “Don’t leave me, Mama. Please stay. Where are you going? Take me with you!” I begged.

Tears started falling from her eyes, too.

“Listen to me—I’ll come back. Just wait for me here.”

I didn’t want to let go of her hands.

“Be brave, my child,” she said.

And just then, a loud thunder crashed and lightning lit up the sky—and she ran.

I sat there, frozen in fear.

And when I stood up again… she was gone.

That was the last time I saw her.

And that night, my tears poured just as heavily as the rain.

RUI’S POV:

They say there are many good mothers, but it’s rare to have a good father—so if you have one, treasure him. They say the father is the pillar of the home, just like how a house would collapse if its pillar is removed.

Just like me—I deeply felt the love of a father. He would always play with me, hug me, and kiss me. I can truly say that he never lacked in showing me love. That’s why it felt like I lost both my legs when he suddenly disappeared.

I was seven years old the last time I saw him. He said goodbye like he always did whenever he left for work. He kissed me and said, “Son, Daddy’s going out for a bit. When I come back, we’ll play again, okay?”

His smile is etched in my memory. I was so sure that night he would return, and we would play again.

But that night, the whole house was in chaos.

Mom was crying. The house was full of people—even the police were there. The only word I could make out was “kidnap”—a word I didn’t even understand at the time.

I asked Mom where Daddy was, but she just kept crying.

As I grew older, that’s when I learned the truth—someone kidnapped my dad and demanded a ransom of one billion. Yes, we were rich, but even for us, that amount was too much. The kidnappers must have thought we were the richest family in the world.

The police didn’t allow Mom to pay, and she couldn’t come up with that much money anyway.

Days went by, and I would always wait by the window, hoping Daddy would come back.

But after a week, we received news—they found Daddy, but he was no longer alive.

I saw how Mom cried until she almost fainted.

When she was about to visit Dad’s remains, I begged her:

“Mommy, I want to see Daddy.”

With the loud thunder, lightning, wind, and rain came the outpouring of our sorrow.

But before we could leave, Uncle John suddenly arrived, furious. He said, “Everyone who did this will pay.”

As we left in the car, Mommy continued to cry nonstop.

“Son, your Daddy is gone,” she said while holding me tight. But at that moment, I still couldn’t understand what was really happening. I felt nothing. Not a single tear fell.

Then suddenly, the car stopped. “Sir, why did we stop?” Mom asked the driver.

“Ma’am, the car suddenly died. I’ll check the engine,” he said as he stepped out, despite the rain, to inspect the problem.

While waiting, I looked out the car window. In the distance, near a small store, I saw a child. I couldn’t hear anything from inside the car, but I could see how hard that child was crying. Like Mom, her tears kept falling despite the rain.

That’s when I felt something wet on my cheek. My eyes were swelling. Why did it hurt so much? Why did I suddenly feel the pain?

I started sobbing uncontrollably.

Mom hugged me tightly. We cried together.

When the driver returned, he said there was nothing wrong with the car, and when he tried starting it again, it suddenly worked.

I don’t know why I cried. Was it because I finally felt the pain of losing Daddy? Or was it because the child I saw crying affected me deeply?

I don’t know who that child was, but like Mommy, I wanted to hug her and comfort her too.

Were we going through the same thing? Or were we somehow connected?

I knew I would never forget the time I saw her in the midst of the pouring rain and our mourning

NARRATOR:

Two children, each with a different story. How will their lives eventually cross?

Mea, abandoned by her mother.

Rui, who lost his father.

On the night the heavy rain poured, their tears fell with it. That marked the beginning of their meeting—and many more encounters would follow, ones they couldn’t avoid or forget.

Can a rich child and a poor one find common ground?

Is there something deeper that binds their souls?

Just like a poem once said:

The embrace of my mother, I long to feel

When will I taste that warmth again, for real?

The embrace of my father, I search for in dreams

Has it become just a memory that silently screams?

Our lives may be far apart, not the same

But we are brought together by tears in the rain

The mystery:

When Mea’s mother left her, she only hid nearby, crying as she watched her daughter. It was as if she were waiting for someone to come take her child.

But while she was waiting, someone suddenly covered her mouth and put a plastic bag over her head—and just like that, she vanished into the darkness.