Sitting in a small,bare,concrete walls Anton constantly hears hum that echoes in the corridor outside. The metallic clang of the distant doors opening and closing makes his heart race. As he sits on the ground wrapping his arms around his legs, resting his head on his knees, he waited. It’s been ten days as he steps in this familiar place, he was welcomed by familiar smell, familiar sight but not the feeling. He is now more tense, the anxiety that once is missing lingers in every corner of his limbs. The confidence is gone, it is surely is.
“ It’s time “ he hears as the metallic door opens with a resounding clang, echoing through the cold, concrete corridors. The officer's hand gripped his shirt with a firm resolve, yanking him up from the ground.
In an instant he found himself with the moving vehicle. The cold metal of the handcuffs clamped tightly around his wrists, binding his hands together,with firming of grip. The only thing that he could do is to stay still and feel the gentle breeze brushed against his face. He closed his eyes, and fall into deep recollection of the past.
“Anton!Anton” A loud cry pierced the evening air, his grandmother’s voice, trembling and urgent, calling his name. “Come home!” she shouted, her words carrying both a command and a plea, echoing through the quiet streets.
Anton hurriedly picks up his sleepers from the ground, brushing the dust off his clothes, his mind already drifting away from the game and back to the voice that had just called his name. The table was ready as he entered, his grandmother already sitting on the other side of the table. “ Wash your hands and sit already” his grandmother add.
Anton washes his hand, prepare to eat his supper.
“ Wait, let us pray first”. His grandmother interrupted him as he eagerly dug into his food.
They finished their grace and began to eat. Just as they were about to take their last bites, the bamboo door creaked open slowly, its quiet, deliberate movement filling the room with a sudden tension, as if the very air had paused to see who would step through.
It was his mother in a long red dress. Her long curly hair was almost covering her face, that Anton didn’t get the chance to glimpse as she instantly entered the room.
“Have you eaten your dinner?” Anton’s grandmother asks as she puts another plate on the table. No answer was heard from her mother.
Her grandmother’s impatience grew not only for the answers she needed but also for the presence they had long awaited.
She stepped into the room, crossing the threshold marked by a piece of cloth embroidered with vibrant flowers. In the corner of the room, Anton’s mother was packing her luggage in a flurry of motion with her expression fraught with urgency.
“ What are you doing?” Where are you going?” Anton’s grandmother’s voice began to rise, cracking with emotion as she stepped further into the room.
“I have enough, I can’t live like this anymore” “ I am leaving” . She grabs her luggage and took a step toward the embroidered curtain. As she stepped outside, she found Anton still on the table waiting for her to join him. Anton’s eyes start to shed tears as he is getting the idea of what is happening. “ Are you out of your mind? What about Anton?” again his grandmother trying to stop her daughter. Instead of answering her mother’s question, she walked over to where Anton sat, still looking at the floor. She kneels beside him and gently reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead and pressed a soft kiss. After that kiss without looking back she disappeared from their sight. Anton is still stuck on where his is sitting, unable to digest the overwhelming feeling. At just ten years old, the weight of emotions that night was like carrying a mountain on his back.
Nightmare, it was a nightmare that hunts Anton from that moment up to this time. For seven years his life started to change. He had been a joyful boy, laughter bubbling forth like a spring well, lighting up the room with his infectious energy. But as time wore on, shadows crept into his life, dimming that light. The boy was now a whirlwind of defiance, his eyes full of rebellion.
The vehicle suddenly stopped and that is the sign for Anton to open his eyes bringing him back to the reality that he will face. He stepped down being drag by the officer, entering the building with high ceilings adorned with intricate moldings that whispered of history and authority. While waiting to be escorted inside the court, his nervous energy began to dissipate, drawn instead to a little snail slowly making its way along the edge of the sidewalk. Its delicate shell glistened in the sunlight, each spiral a tiny universe of its own. In that moment, he felt a pang of connection to the creature. Just as the snail moved slowly yet purposefully, so too was he navigating a world that felt unfamiliar and daunting. The shell represented safety, a refuge amid the chaos, much like the sense of home he yearned for. It was a reminder that no matter where life led, there could always be a place of comfort carried within.
He wanted to cry, for that certain moment, he needs his refuge , he needs his safety for on that time, he needs home.
The bang of the gavel echoed sharply through the courtroom. As the judge raised the gavel, the weight of the moment hung thick in the air. Each strike was a reminder of the gravity of the decisions being made.
“The accused pleaded not guilty, and after the trial, at which he was represented by counsel, he was convicted of the said crime of homicide, and sentenced to fourteen years, eight months, and one day of reclusion temporal………”guilty..”
The word "guilty" hung in the air, heavy and suffocating, wrapping around him like a shroud. Homicide. The gravity of the verdict settled over him, cold and unyielding, a stark reality that he could hardly comprehend.
At that time Anton shaking, tries to compose himself , to project a facade of toughness . In the depths of his turmoil,memories flashed before his eyes. It is the scene that he saw before that incident, it is the smile of her mother that he never seen was a smile shared with a man who was not his father, and beside them, a little girl clung to her arms, her laughter ringing like music. It is his father that drives a boy, years younger than him to school. Finally, he recalled the image of his grandmother, frail but resolute, lying on the hospital bed. For the first time, she was receiving the treatment she had long deserved.
As Anton left the courtroom, flanked by officers, his heart still heavy with the weight of the verdict, his gaze fell to the sidewalk. There, moving deliberately along the edge, was the same little snail he had noticed earlier. It seemed to glide slowly, methodically, its tiny shell glistening in the light—a perfect encapsulation of home and resilience.
As Anton continued down the sidewalk, a sudden realization struck him: today was his birthday— his 18th birthday.