You need not fear it, but you must always bear in mind

that the past is never quite as finished with you as you think you are with it.

— Kathryn Kennish

In the dim lit room of the small barely standing house, 22 years old Maria collected the empty dishes on the small square dining table, tired of listening to her father and brother's heated argument almost every night. After his dad lost his good paying job, he lost interest of living too. The responsible father who raised them alone was now gone.

"Go to sleep, Martha." Maria said to her younger sister and she just nodded her head and turned to leave.

Maria glanced at her father who was again drinking and didn't touched his food. She felt her chest becoming heavy again at the thought of his father slowly killing himself. As she deposited the dirty dishes on the small single sink, her shoulders slumped. Her hands resting on the edges of the dark fake marble countertop with her head tilted downward, she let the tears flow silently. His father and brother's voices passing her ears in a distant though they are close to where she's stood rooted on the concrete floor.

"It's not the end of the world, Dad. Why don't you try another company? Another workplace?!" Francisco snapped losing his patience already. He's almost 20 years old and going to be in his last year of University.

He's angry because the first semester of his last year in the University is coming up and his father had drained whatever left in his pocket. He used the money for his drinks, and travelling back and forth to the Valiente's shipyard trying to get back his job. It's been five days, and he never gave up. The money that was left off from what he got from the company, he paid it for her sister's medical bills and medicine.

"Just leave me alone, Francisco!"

The tension thickening, and her tears keep on pouring like the heavy rain pelting on their roof, seemingly sympathetic of their misfortune.

She graduated a year ago yet she couldn't find a good job. She's still working at the cafe for almost seven years now and she gave up looking for a job that is related to her profession, Fine Arts. Her father worked hard so they can all get a good degree yet still, it's impossible to get a good paying job.

"Then what, Dad? Just watch you destroy yourself?" Francisco gritted out.

Maria heard the chair being dragged away and then a loud banging causing her to wipe her eyes briskly and spun on them to witness her father on his feet, hands resting on the table with his body bended forward, rigidly. His face as dark as the night.

She slowly approached them, her eyes never leaving her father's gloomy face that's starting to get rigid. Rage lit in those brown orbs and hatred.

"He destroyed my life! I will not stop until I get that job back that I deserve! I live my life with it...." Tears fell one at a time, then another, like a competition, each one trying to catch the other racing down his slightly wrinkly tired honey coloured cheeks. "I built my life in that place, I poured all what I have!" his bony body slumped forward, head down. His shoulder started to shake as he tried to hold back the tears but the more he did, the more the tears flows.

Maria's hands curled into a tight fist. Anger bottled up in her chest.

Furious.

Hatred.

Hatred to the man who stole his father's life. His happiness. His reason to live. She felt bitter though that his father love his career more than them, but she had witness it how he enjoyed and brought smiles to his face his when he talk about his work.

Perhaps because in this unfair world, where they live, a good paying job is a diamond to them. A treasure. A very precious thing that worth as life.

It's unfair still to her, to them. Unfair that he will sacrifice his life for it, it's just a job. But then, it was the job that helped his dad sent them to school and still eat three times a day and can afford a bit, and has a roof to live under.

After a short tensed break, only their harsh breathing that filled the air interwoven with the faint noise of the raindrops against the roof, dad lifted his head, tear-streaked face. This time, he didn't hide his misery, his struggles.

Maria used to his dad hiding his hardships. She used to him smiling amidst trials. He used to him being a very positive and driven father.

"Why don't you go find a job?!" Matteo Santos growled at his son. His hands curled into a tight fist. His heart hammering loudly against his ribcage, and with the alcohol mixed in his system, hid kids sees another man in him. Not the compassionate father they were used to.

Maria saw her brother's face turning red and ready to pounce on his father. Her legs instantly moved, closing their distance. "Francisco, no!" she exclaimed, hands grabbing his forearm and pulling him back.

"I will!" Francisco snapped at his father, almost yelling. His brain exploded with fury. Frustrations, disappointment and anger, rolling into one. He wanted to knock his father's head to get some sense into him but he willed himself. A little respect had somehow left in him.

"You should! And you can see how hard it is to find a job that pay good like the shipyard you called a shit!" his father exclaimed, nerves bulging on his temple, faced red as the table cloth in fury.

"They already kicked you out! You did nothing but spent your whole life on that shitty place, working almost 24 hours a day, but look what they've done to you?" he challenged him.

"I will get my job back!" his father snapped as he slammed his fist on the table causing Maria to jump backwards.

Francisco glared at his father for a moment, and then he turned on his heel and stormed out of their door. Maria followed him, calling out his name but he was too angry. All he could hear is his heartbeat drumming so loudly deafening his ears. As soon as he's out, the pouring rain soaked him in a matter of seconds, yet he didn't care as he ran and ran aimlessly.

Maria quickly took her umbrella that was sitting next to her worn out shoes and ran out of the door to check on her brother. She was welcomed with heavy rain fall. She opened her umbrella as quickly as her hands could, fumbling with the strap of the long umbrella, catching some rain on her face and hair. The wind sweeping her face along with the rain mist. She pulled her faded brown cardigan together as she scanned the dark alleys not too far from their house. Her right hand holding the umbrella handle tightly before it be blown away by the wind.

"Francisco!" she called out but it was drowned out with the swooshing noise of the wind accompanied by down-pouring of the rain. Her legs moved forward, eyes scanning the dim lit street, thanks to the remaining, only surviving street lamps. With the pouring rain, she street is almost less visible.

Her heart drummed against her ribcage. Lots of unpleasant scenarios crossing her mind and made her even more unsettled.

"Francisco, come back please!" she half cried half yelled.

Fear starting to settle in her chest. They lived in a very dangerous, higher crime rate area due to poverty. Housing is very affordable but the unemployment is at a very high rate, making it hard for the people at Eastend-Court to provide sufficiently for their families.

She walked until she passed two blocks, ignoring the prickling of the hair at the back of her neck. She didn't want to yell his brother's name again or she'll draw attention. When she couldn't see any sign of him, she decided to walk back to their house, dodging a group of men that was chatting under the rain next to the street lamps. She hurriedly cross the road and walked on the other side, half running. Her heart is now beating so fast. She ignored her umbrella being whipped and she decided to close it as fast as she could. She ran as fast as her short legs could take her, back to their house.

By the time she got home, she was panting hard. She was soaking wet and was trembling with cold. Rain water dripping from her on their worn out, all colours flaked off door mat, that all was left was the black rubber.

She closed the door behind her, eyes darting straight to the table where she left her father. He was still drinking with no care in the world.

Her teeth clamped tightly as anger bottled up in her chest.

She didn't care the water pooling under her and she put her folded, water dripping umbrella leaning on the corner close to the door.

She quickly headed to their room she shared with her younger sister and decided to take a shower. She didn't want to talk to his father, fear that she might lost her temper. Her insides wanted to scream. Scream out all the anger she's feeling right now. Anger towards her father, her brother and the unfair life. Mostly, to the man who only thought of money.

She's becoming unsettled. Her mind still reeling on her brother's whereabouts, she inwardly prayed that he's safe.

Meanwhile...

Francisco's legs led him to his friends whom his father had always reminded him to avoid due to infamous reputations. He stopped seeing them since he went to University. He found them where they usually hangs out. In the only park of Easted-Court that has a basketball court and a shade. Four blocks down to their house.

As soon as he got closer, the acting leader, Tommy spoke. "What brought you here, Francisco?" he asked, half smiling as approached his water dripping friend.

Francisco didn't like beating around the bush. He looked around and saw Tommy's group. Mason, Anthony, Justin and a new face he didn't recognize. They were sitting on the benches while chatting away. They were looking at him for a bit then back to their own business.

In an almost a whisper, he leaned closer to Tommy's ear. "I need a job," he muttered, heat creeping up to his face out of embarrassment. He didn't want to work with them but he needed the money for the coming year. He didn't wanna waste all the years in school and not finishing it.

He was avoiding to look into Tommy's dark brown eyes. He didn't want to see his misery. It's already embarrassing coming to him, but he knows he's the only one who can help with money. But Tommy didn't missed the desperation in his voice. He grinned happily.

"I have a job for you this Friday," he said, "but once you agreed you can't back out," he stated. Francisco stared at him, swallowing hard. He came for this, and he's desperate. He nodded his head in agreement.

Tommy smiled and shot out his hand for a handshake. Francisco took it and they shared a handshake. A silent agreement of the deal.

The next morning, Maria woke up coughing and a little unwell. That didn't stop her from doing things in their house that was expected of her before she goes to work.

She doesn't start working till 10 this morning, so she put on a red hoodie and decided to make a breakfast for them. Her head turned on the direction of their twin bed where her sister is still peacefully sleeping. She let out a pitiful sigh. She moved quietly in the room not wanting to wake up her little sister. She's just 12 years old. They called her a menopausal baby.

An hour later, their breakfast is done. She went to wake up her father, but then she remembers her brother. She fell asleep waiting for him. She ran down to the basement to check up on him. A wave of relief washed over her when she saw him lying on his chest on his small bed through the ajar door.

She pushed the door open wide and walked inside.

"Francisco, breakfast is ready," she gently tapped his shoulder. And when he didn't stir, she gently jerk his shoulder. "Come on, wake up."

Francisco turned on his back and slowly peeled his eyes open. Half open lid, he spoke in a hoarse voice.

"I'm not hungry. Let me sleep more," he replied and then turned on his sides.

With a sigh, she left him and decided to wake up her father and sister instead.

She rapped on the door and when she didn't hear any sound from the other side, she slowly turned the knob and opened it.

Her eyes darted to her father who was lying on his side, his face facing the wall. Her chest tightened, she swallowed hard. She blocked whatever pitiful thoughts tries to run in her head.

She walked closer to his bed whom he shared with her mother 12 years past. It's a little bit bigger than theirs and her sister.

She stopped at the edge of the bed and gently tapped her father's shoulder. There was no response. She put her hand on his forearm, she was thinking to jerk him, but she froze. His arm is so cold and hard. Her heart started to race.

"Daddy!" she called as she jerked his shoulder towards her. His shoulder was stiffed. She tried to pull him on his back but he was too heavy. She knew it in her heart that his dad is dead. The temperature of his body reminds her of her mom on her death bed. Her chest tightened as fear settled in. Her mind was in turmoil.

"DAD!" she screamed, her heartbeat thundering against her ribcage. She heard a faint rushing of footsteps coming to her directions but she was too lost now. "DAD! WAKE UP!" she wailed, jerking his stiff body with such intensity she didn't care, her only aim is to wake him up.

"What's going on?" she heard his brother said behind her, but she was too focused on trying to wake him up. She can't bear to lose him. They needed him.

My brother pushed her to the other side in haste. And then her little sister followed. She turned and pulled her into her arms as she wailed. She just watched her brother, her eyes blurry from the tears that kept coming incessantly.

Her brother pulled their father on his back and a paled face of their father met them. Francisco placed his palm on his chest, trying to make sure they were wrong, but deep within her and from where she's standing, she knew her dad is dead.

"DAD!" her brother screamed.

"DADDY/DAD/Daddy!"

The three wailed loudly which drew the attention of their neighbours. It maybe dangerous town, but the neighbours are friendly. An ambulance came later, and they confirmed he was dead. They took him to the morgue. With the help of the town mayor, they cremated his body.

Maria was moving like a robot. Now that her father is gone, every responsibility fell on her. Her sister never said a word since her father gone.

She hasn't seen Francisco since yesterday and she forced herself to not to worry too much of him now. She a lot to worry about.

She was walking back and forth, lost in thought on their small living room that connected to their small kitchen.

She felt hollow, lost. She felt like the world turned their back on her and now she's alone, fighting the war of life. Her swollen eyes felt stinging as fresh waves of tears pooled under her puffy eyelids. She sniffed it back but it just came pouring.

She closed her eyes tight.

She felt her sister's presence. She slowly opened her eyes and like her, her brown eyes are also red and puffy. Her heart constricted. She slowly walked closer to her, then she pulled her into her arms, embracing her.

"We will get through this, I promise," she murmured, kissing the top of her head. She allowed the tears to flow freely since she couldn't fight it back.

"Come, let's have s—"

A loud banging on the door cut her off. Her eyes darted to the door with a furrowed brow. She stood stiffly, spine steeled as she listened to ongoing banging on the door with urgency. Her heart picked up speed. She glanced at her sister who was sharing the same expression, eyes filled with fear.

She quickly walked to the door and yanked it open. A brown head mopped with short frizzed disheveled black hair hovering over her. It was Tommy. Her eyebrows furrowed as to why this known gangster is at their door. Those hard stares and arrogant face she had known was gone. He looked terrified and lost.

Upon remembering her brother, her heart skipped a beat. And then a rushed of fear coursing through her spine, settling in her chest.

"What happened?" she croaked.

Tommy shook his head, looking so confused. "Francisco is..." he trailed off, "the cops..." he swallowed hard.

"What? What happened to Francisco!" Her voice rising with her tone sharpening. She stood closer to Tommy, glaring at him.

Tommy shook his head again, avoiding her steely gaze. "The cops took him."

Finally he blurted out.

Maria felt like her blood leaving her body. She stumbled, her eyes looking right through Tommy's terrified tall stature. She felt his hand on her arm as she felt her body losing it's strength.

"No," she murmured throatily. She refused to process what Tommy had just said. She refused to believe it.

"I'm sorry, Maria," she heard him said.

Anger fueled her, her hand swung and her palm landed on Tommy's left cheeks. He didn't say anything as he looked down.

"This is all your fault!" she cried out at him and Tommy just nodded his head.

She didn't care now that most of their neighbours are now listening, hovering around them. She saw Martha and she was just standing on the door frame, no expression at all on her face.

She wrapped her hand around Tommy's wrist and pulled her inside their house.

As soon as they are inside, she faced him. "Tell me exactly what happened?" she asked, teeth jaws clenched.

"He needed money, so he agreed to deliver the goods," he said, almost a whisper.

"You mean drugs?" her sarcastic tone resurfaced, her eyes gauging him. Eyebrows cocked up teeth clenched.

Tommy nodded his head. His eyes glued on the floor.

Her hands flew to her temples and massaged it absentmindedly. Her head hurt. She couldn't fathom why would his brother do that. Yes, he needed the money but why would he resort to that route?

"What should we do?" she asked him, turning to face him.

"I don't know," Tommy replied, his fear-filled amber eyes met her brown ones. "He was caught with a bag of cocaine," he confessed. It's another way to say that there's no way out of it.

All strength drained out of her. She walked towards their mini living room with shaky legs and she sat limply on the faded brown fabric sofa.

Martha is back to her room, she didn't notice.

That day, she went to visit him. He was slumped on one of the cell, waiting for his sentence. Maria couldn't look at him. Her heart becoming numb of all the misfortunes that fell on them. She couldn't think properly, as hatred for anything grew in her chest. Life mostly.