The Other Queen

For once, I lived a thousand years... I lived by the sands and thousands of tears, Where people still think fear is what I am, They did not know I was once a scared human. I was once a human... --- Bethilda I once dreamt of walking on earth forever, like stop aging at the age of twenty years old forever kind of life. I would want that to happen, to forever be swimming inside my mother's womb. But I don't mean to live forever. I actually attempted a dozen times just to end everything. I get tired of breathing, tired of losing myself, and tired of thinking about the past. I smiled bitterly at the thought. Frequently, the memories of my biological mother sprung inside my head at the moment. Those tragic memories last year appeared vividly in my mind, creeping up like ghosts. Those misfortunes and terrible decisions I made, make me think, I shouldn't have reached this day of my birth. It's a curse. The way she smiles, her wavy dark brown hair swaying with the wind, her soft hands, her dimples, the band on her head, her giggle, and her hazelnut eyes. They all crept into my mind like they were something eerie in a distant world. Thinking about her makes me want to kill myself again. Lazily lying on my bed, as usual, the cold ambiance despite the aircon turned off never left the whole place. The heater was a little help yet the temperature was still the same. I felt little chills beneath my bones as if it's winter. Boredom gets to me inside this miserable condo unit and I don't have plans on going out nor ruin Oz's peaceful ML plays at his place. I would be damned more. Several missed calls were made by Gina, my biological father's sister. I just exasperatedly sighed as I've ignored all of the attempts. I knew very well the next thing that would happen. As expected, three loud doorbell sounds echoed in my place. I rolled my eyes again and lazily got up from the bed. I never bothered to fix anything in my white distorted bedroom and just hurried to the door and opened it to see the troubled face of Gina while staring at my unbelievable wavy jet-black lazy bed hair and crumpled PJ's and spaghetti strap top. "Seriously, Bethilda? This is what I'm seeing in your unit? Why aren't you answering my calls? And why are you not dressed up yet?" While closing my eyes, I imagine her asking those things while at the door in her usual motherly stance, intact with full authority like everyone around her should explain why I'm like this. "It's still early. I still even want to sleep," I lied. It's literally 1 PM and I have no sleepy cells left in my body. Though I didn't get a lot of sleep as well since I've been bothered a lot by negative thoughts, I still chose to say the opposite. Gina would notice that. "You're not supposed to say that. It's your birth-" "Hep!" I stopped her and eventually waved my hand at her face while I faced the other direction. "What do you need? Just say it and then leave in peace," I demanded bluntly. I could imagine her face turning red with brows rising at my antics. She's used to my cold and heedless treatment ever since I came to her last year. I could still imagine Gina with her usual motherly smile the first time I saw her. Her straight jet-black her up to her elbows flying away with her fan while cooking for dinner was precisely kept intact in the back of my mind. She was like a sister rather than a mother. I never had the chance to meet her when my mother was still alive. I've been kept private after my dad stopped seeing us at the age of 12. No relatives have had the chance to meet me, nor be another father figure to me. 12 years and beyond, I've been wondering what was wrong with me that my mother never gave me a chance to play or meet friends. All I remembered was her voice in an old mansion while talking about some old paintings hanging by the walls. The relatives never dared to talk to me before. I bet they smiled but no bets for long talks. "We're going out. Take a shower and dress up!" "I told you earlier I'm still sleepy..." I grunted. "I wouldn't take a no for an answer." She pushed me to the bathroom and threw a towel that automatically hung on my shoulder, then heard the loud closing of the door at my back. "Move, lady!" Her voice echoed. How I hated her voice. It's reminding me of her voice... **** Jaws dropped in disbelief, the disappearing figure of Gina had me clearly heard every tick of my watch's hand after her last words diminished in my ears. "You're moving to Tagaytay," was all I involuntarily repeated over and over to myself. It's exactly what she told me. I am moving to Tagaytay and that means I have to move particularly to our ancestral house, the last place I wanted to visit; not that I have bad memories there but the fact that there were more cherished moments with my biological mother in that place have made it so uncomfortable. I wished not to involve myself again and dwell in her memories as not to be that same girl I was a year ago, but to convince Gina that way would only mean I am not clinically healed yet. The image of the hospital and the stinging smell of alcohol makes me sick even more. Unluckily, Gina never gave me a chance to question her decision. She must've known I would protest. Imagining her to lose control again if I ever make one mistake, I would probably stop doing stupid things on my own and pretend I don't have anything bothering me at all. After waiting for my aunt to prepare her BMW and ignite the engine, I slowly moved and seated myself in the backseat of the car. The whole ride has an eerie silence and even if I felt Gina would want to open a conversation, she must've sensed I was not in the mood to respond, so she chose to focus on the road. It was a three-hour ride from the city. I doubt Gina knew how I hated long rides. She never asked me if I'm okay with it. All the rides give me restlessness. I can't even close my eyes or drift into a nap. The voice of my biological mother still echoes inside my head as I remember her saying not to sleep in the car as to not give me surprises when I wake up. Those surprises made me realize how she ended up not being here with me today. I was not sure but when Gina took the last left turn on a hazy surrounding, it was an obvious rocky road and little carabao grasses tickled the wheels as we drove further to the deep unsounded clearing, hearing them brush against the rubber as the sun waved goodbye in our faces. Despite the several years gone past, it was the unfamiliarity that took over my state. After a moment, the fogs around seemed to move away and proudly introduced to us the old rusty gate from afar showing up the intimidating exterior of the mansion, and as we ascended, letters above the rusty gate became clearer this time. Santerri. I read. "Welcome home, Bethilda." I heard Gina turning off the engine as we entered the ghostly ancestral mansion. I never even bothered to cringe my nose at what Gina addressed me and kept on beaming at the porchlight which is the only new thing around. All of what I'm seeing are the walls of the house covered in moss and vines climbing up until the roof compares it to the picture I have in mind back in my childhood where only little vines occupy the exterior walls. This house would be mistaken as haunted. "The house will not wait for you forever to look inside. Come on out, Beth." I hesitated for a while, then decided to get out of the car and followed Gina as she advanced to the main door. All that I've seen was the slow opening of the old dark wooden door at my aunt's face. I have seen some carvings on the door that looked gothic. Compared outside, the interior was a proud fan of dark wooden materials; it led us to the grand hall of the ancestral mansion, swept clean and with no trace of dust since I haven't sneezed for a while. "Hello? Aunt Darling!" Gina's voice echoed all over the place. It sounded like the place had never heard from anyone in a long time that it had to be awakened. Gina called the name again, and a voice replied from the second floor. A woman in her round-shaped body descended from the staircase and placed a smile as she had seen us. I bet she's around her forties now. "Oh Gina, it's you!" The woman hugged her tight. "Aunt Darling, how are you?" The woman laughed, showing her little wrinkles around her eyes. "I'm a bit lonely here because I live alone. I'm glad your niece has finally decided to live here! She will surely love this place." My brows rose. She must be kidding me! "Oh, sure she is! She even convinced me to move unto this day," Gina lied. "Oh, she's just like Belind—" "Where's my room?" I butted off. Talking about my mother makes me uncomfortable. Gina should've known that— or she really thought I'm healing already? The two ladies stopped in a trance and looked at me with warmth. Aunt Darling smiled. "Oh, you would love it here, Ida! Come. It's upstairs." She started to climb again. Gina tilted her head as an approval, then I started to follow the old lady. The grand staircase is a cliche to be described as grand. It's extravagant! It was the perfect fully-furnished dark wooden stairs. The swirl designs of the balusters and the handrail made sure every person to come would surely look at it in awe. It seemed like the history of the whole family was carved there on purpose. The next floor was an inviting entity. The wooden materials were all simple but grand. Many doors were there and at the center of them was an arch to the hall where Aunt Darling and I entered. As to my memory, twelve paintings were hung there on each side of the hall. Each was introduced to me by Aunt Darling as to what had my mother done in the past. Her words crept into my head and I began to shake a little. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes... It was morning. Mom let her two fingers be enveloped with my tiny hand as she was pointing to the six paintings on our right side. I never did understand before that those people in the paintings were my ancestors. Mom was telling something about the Santerris, the Anglican Aristocrats who moved to Spain and had been a part of the Peninsularis during the Spanish period in the country. Santerris had been the most powerful among the families in England and Spain, and when they had decided to partake an important role in our country, even King Philip II himself showed submission to them. This family had never been the talk of the town— never had been popularly aligned to the aristocrat families in Spain, for they share credo of "Nuestros Ojos no Deben ser Recordados" or "Our eyes must not be remembered." "That's Señor Adolf Santerri I. He was the head of the family. No one knows his family background prior to his marriage to Mila of Luxembourg." Mom pointed at the first portrait showing the face of an English man with white curl hair. "They have five children: the eldest was Adolf II; the second was Felissa; the third was Donnabella; the fourth was Elizabeth V, and the youngest was Demetrius. Mila and Elizabeth migrated to the Philippines when in 1578, selected families from Spain were granted to be Peninsularis in Manila. Those remaining children in Spain died in 1589 except for Adolf II and Demetrius." Mom shifted to the left side facing another six portraits and continued. "Adolf II had a terrible disease and died eventually, so Demetrius was the only one left. He married Maria Felicidad of Spain and they bore a child they named after Demetrius' father and brother. It was Adolf III. Adolf died during his stay in Spain and orphaned his beloved son Adolf IV. Then the sixth generation was born on the evening of September 1922 in Luxembourg. "He is the sixth Santerri who owns the name of our ancestor. He was eighteen at that time when the Wehrmacht of the Nazis attacked Luxembourg. The remaining Santerris believed that the sixth-generation Adolf is still alive and have rumors that he migrated to our country after World War II subsided. "During that time, Santerris became more isolated in the noble class, and the ones left were the feminine Santerris who never bore the name anymore. The last child of Santerris is you, my Bethilda." Those were the last words I remembered from her... A wooden double door was located at the heart of the mini hall. Aunt Darling looked at me proudly. "This is your room, Ida. This was once used by the late Lady Mila of Luxembourg. This is the most luxurious room in this mansion." She opened the doors and there crept the exquisite interior of the room. This is 30 times more luxurious than my 1.5 billion condo unit. Aunt Darling must've been talking while I do my inspections and have noticed her bid goodbye, then left me. I crossed my arms on my chest. It's not actually bad to stay here. The good memories will be my shield to those nightmares I wanted to avoid. A knock interrupted me and saw Gina's head peeked at the other opened door. "You'll be fine here with Aunt Darling?" I smiled a bit and nodded. "This is a lot better than my miserable unit, I guess?" Gina smiled in relief. "I haven't seen you smile in a while, you know that?" I paused and decided to sit at the bedside and patted the space to welcome her. Gina moved and sat beside me. "I know you need space, Ida. This will be the last time I'll push you out of your box. If this doesn't help, then you can go back to your unit. Just give this place at least a week. How's that?" I looked at her in surprise. As I thought about it, it would be a good barter for my anxiety to subside. Nothing is to regret or to worry about. I should probably make the worst things leave me. As an answer, I nodded and smiled at her. The rest of the night would be a battle, I guess. A good night's sleep will do. To be continued...