Chapter XVIII: Marka
Christine sits by Isko's bedside, her hand resting gently on his arm. The soft hum of the machines fills the room, a constant reminder of his fragile state. As she leans forward to adjust the blanket, her eyes catch something unusual on the back of Isko's neck.
"Benigno, halika dito," Christine says, her voice trembling slightly.
Benigno rises from the chair and moves closer.
"Bakit, mahal?"
She gently shifts Isko's head to reveal a faint but distinct mark on his nape—a heart-shaped birthmark. Benigno's eyes widen, and he instinctively touches his own nape as if recalling something from long ago.
"Ang marka na ito…" Christine begins, her voice filled with both awe and confusion.
"Ito rin ang marka ni Regie, di ba?"
Benigno stares at the mark for a moment before straightening up.
"Oo, pareho nga. Pero Christine, paano…?"
Christine's eyes well up with tears.
"Regie had this exact mark. Is it possible, Benigno? Could Isko be… Regie?"
Benigno shakes his head, trying to keep his emotions in check.
"Mahal, hindi natin alam. Ang tagal na niyang nawala… imposible, di ba?"
Christine places a hand over her heart, her voice trembling with hope.
"Pero bakit pareho? Ang dami nang pagkakataon na naramdaman kong parang siya si Regie—ang mga galaw niya, ang mga sinasabi niya, pati ang pagmamahal niya sa atin. Ngayon pa itong marka na 'to…"
Benigno looks away, his brows furrowed in deep thought.
"Christine, hindi tayo pwedeng umasa nang ganyan. Kailangan nating alamin ang totoo."
The couple sits back down, their emotions swirling as they watch over Isko.
"Kung siya nga si Regie, bakit hindi niya tayo naalala?" Christine wonders aloud, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Maraming pwedeng dahilan," Benigno replies, though his tone remains skeptical.
"Pero hindi natin ito malalaman ngayon. Maghintay tayo hanggang magising siya. Doon natin makakausap si Isko nang mas maayos."
Christine nods, wiping her tears.
"Pero Benigno… kung sakali man, dapat ba nating sabihin sa kanya?"
Benigno hesitates before replying.
"Depende. Kung siya nga si Regie, baka tulungan tayo ng pagkakataon para maghilom ang sugat ng nakaraan. Pero kung hindi… ayaw kong masaktan ka ulit, Christine."
The couple shares a moment of silence, their thoughts tangled between hope and doubt. As they return their attention to Isko, Christine whispers a silent prayer, her heart aching with the possibility of reconnecting with someone they thought was lost forever.
In the stillness of the hospital room, the faint sound of the machines continues, punctuating the weight of their discovery and the questions it brings.
Benigno stands at the foot of the hospital bed, his heart heavy with uncertainty. Isko lies motionless, the sterile white sheets contrasting sharply with the deep brown of his skin. The beeping of the machines provides a stark rhythm, underscoring the silence that envelops the room. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a harsh glow on Isko's face, illuminating the features that should feel familiar but instead evoke an unsettling sense of doubt.
Benigno leans in closer, studying the young man's face intently. It is Isko— isn't it? The birthmark just beneath his right eye is unmistakable, a small constellation on a canvas he knows by heart. Yet something is different. The shape of his jaw seems sharper, the angle of his nose a little off. The more he looks, the more he feels a creeping sense of fear wash over him.
"Christine, tingnan mo siya," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile reality around them.
"Parang si Regie, pero… may mali."
Christine stands beside him, her hand clasped tightly in his. She peers at Isko's face, her brow furrowing in concern.
"Nakita ko yung birthmark," she says, her voice shaking slightly.
"Pero… ang itsura niya… parang iba."
Benigno nods, the knot in his stomach tightening.
"What if this is some twisted joke? What if he's not Regie at all?" The question hangs in the air, heavy with implications, as they both grapple with the possibility that the boy they love might not be who he seems.
"Pero dapat si Regie 'yan," Christine replies, her voice trembling.
"Hindi ko kayang isipin na ibang tao siya."
Their eyes meet, fear flickering between them like a candle's flame, fragile and wavering. As if sensing their distress, Isko's eyelids flutter, sending a jolt of panic through both of them.
"Huwag tayong magtagal dito," Christine says, taking a step back, her gaze averted from the bed.
"Ayokong makita siyang ganito… nagdurusa."
Benigno swallows hard, nodding in agreement. They turn and walk out of the room, the fluorescent lights overhead casting harsh shadows on their faces. Each step feels heavier, weighed down by the uncertainty of their situation.
Once outside, the cool air hits them like a wave, and they pause, taking a moment to gather themselves. Benigno looks at Christine, her expression pale and drawn.
"Kung siya nga si Regie," he says slowly,
"ang hirap na ibalik siya. Paano kung nakatrap siya dito magpakailanman?"
Christine's eyes glisten with tears as she nods.
"Kailangan nating maniwala na may paraan. Pero ngayon, gusto ko lang magdasal. Gusto kong maniwala na makakatulong ang Diyos sa atin… sa kanya."
Benigno glances toward the grand Cathedral at the end of the street, its spires reaching toward the sky, a beacon of hope amid their despair.
"Tara na," he says, taking Christine's hand firmly. They walk together, the weight of their worry momentarily lightened by the hope of prayer.
As they enter the Cathedral, the hush envelops them, wrapping around their hearts like a protective cocoon. Sunlight streams through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the stone floor. Each step they take echoes softly, amplifying their sense of isolation in this sacred space. Benigno notices the flickering candles lining the altar, their flames dancing gently, as if whispering secrets of faith to those who seek solace.
They make their way to the altar, kneeling together in silent supplication. Benigno closes his eyes, trying to focus his thoughts, to clear the tumult in his mind. The familiar scent of incense fills the air, a comforting aroma that grounds him in the moment. He thinks of Regie, of his laughter, his spirit—everything that makes him who he is.
"Panginoon," Benigno whispers, his voice trembling with emotion.
"Please, watch over Regie. Ibalik niyo siya sa amin… sana." His heart races as he speaks, every word a plea for mercy, for understanding.
Christine bows her head, tears slipping down her cheeks.
"Kailangan namin siya, Diyos. Ayokong mawala siya. Tulungan niyo kami na makahanap ng paraan." She feels the weight of her despair pressing down, the heaviness of worry threatening to crush her spirit.
For a moment, they sit in silence, the only sounds the distant murmurs of other worshippers and the gentle rustling of pages turning. Christine reaches for Benigno's hand, intertwining her fingers with his, drawing strength from his presence.
"Sa tingin mo, alam niya na andito tayo?" Christine asks softly, her voice a thread of hope woven through her fear.
Benigno opens his eyes, glancing at the flickering candles.
"Gusto kong maniwala na alam niya. Gusto kong maniwala na ramdam niya ang pagmamahal natin, ang dasal natin."
As they kneel, a vision of Regie flashes in Benigno's mind: the way he smiles, the warmth in his eyes, the way he lights up every room he enters. It feels impossible that someone so vibrant could be lost to them now.
"Malakas si Isko," Christine says, breaking the silence.
"Lalaban siya. Kailangan niyang lumaban."
Benigno nods, though doubt gnaws at the edges of his conviction.
"Pero paano kung hindi? Paano kung nandito siya, at hindi natin siya maabot?"
The fear lingers, a dark shadow that seems to creep closer, threatening to envelop them. They cling to each other, their connection a lifeline in this storm of uncertainty.
After a moment, Christine wipes her tears, her resolve hardening.
"Hindi tayo pwedeng sumuko. Utang natin ito sa kanya na patuloy na lumaban. Maghanap tayo ng paraan para maibalik siya, kahit anong mangyari."
Benigno looks into her eyes, seeing the determination reflected there.
"Tama ka. Hindi tayo susuko."
In that sacred space, their hearts cry out for answers, each whispered prayer a plea for the boy they love, trapped in an uncertain fate. They stay kneeling, time blurring as they lean into each other, finding solace in their shared strength.
As the sun begins to set, the colors of the stained glass windows shift, casting a warm glow around them. Benigno and Christine feel a sense of peace wash over them, a quiet assurance that they are not alone in their fight.
"Magpagaling ka Isko," Benigno vows softly, squeezing Christine's hand.
"Anuman ang mangyari."
They rise, their spirits bolstered, and step back into the world outside, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead. With hearts full of hope and determination, they leave the Cathedral, united in their love and their resolve to bring Isko back home.