My Short Story: "Damien's Story"

Disclaimer: The preceding story, including characters and situations, were completely fictional. Resemblance to any persons, dead or living, is purely coincidental.

Damien Fernandez could still remember that fateful Sunday afternoon 10 years ago on his eighteenth birthday. It was a simple yet fulfilling celebration. He had a scrumptious lunch with his family (his dad and mum; Mr. & Mrs. Fernandez and his sister; Danielle) and a chocolate fudge cake for dessert. After which his parents presented him a brand new red convertible as his birthday gift. Damien’s present was a Fiat Spider, a small but seductive car with curves sculpted at just the right places. He was elated and he beamed with excitement and joy. His sister however was not as enthusiastic as he was.

“Mama, it is unfair Damien gets a car but you refuse to allow me to use make-up and have my ears pierced!”

“Well Danielle you are only ten. I promise you will have all that once you are old enough.”

As usual Danielle does what she always does when she do not get what she wants. She sulks. Her brother on the other hand was grinning from ear to ear. Damien did not hesitate to take the car out for a spin around his residential area. Little did he know this would be his last time driving.

Damien relished every moment driving his new Fiat. Every turning was smooth even when he does corners. The engine was virtually silent and it was just him and the car. He felt liberated, he felt free – like a bird flying through the clouds. The caress of the wind on his face and on his hair felt like the soft touch of a hand. And the wind tickled his ears. Oh yes, Damien Fernandez was immersed in delectation.

Until… his cell phone rang.

Click!

“Hello, this is Damien speaking.”

“Hey Damien, this is Angela. Are you busy?”

Angela Wong. Damien knew her since high school and they have been going out for about 2 years now. A couple of days ago Angela had a disagreement with Damien when she mentioned she was considering to study abroad. Since then they have not spoken to each other.

“Oh baby it’s you. I am glad you called. Baby I am sorry for that silly argument we had. By the way, you sounded a little under the weather. Is everything alright?”

“Not really. I have something urgent to tell you.”

Damien grinned; he thought that this was one of Angela’s dramatic attempts to wish him ‘Happy Birthday’.

“What is it baby?”

“I don’t think we should be together anymore… But I hope we could still remain as good friends.”

“…”

“Hello. Damien…? You there? Hello?”

Click!

Damien fell silent, stopped his car to the roadside, put on his brake and ended the conversation with a simple push of a button. He was in tears but had no signs of visible emotion and his eyes were set upon this huge shady tree in the middle of the playground.

Damien locked his foot on the accelerator and the car gave a loud restrained roar, as if a lion in a cage. What happened next was unthinkable. He released the brake and the car charged forward towards the huge tree.

Just before the car hit the tree, there was an abrupt ear-piercing scream ensued by a deafening silence.

Damien’s world came to a crashing halt – literally. The scream did not belong to him. However it belonged to Danielle who at that time was resting under the tree after that scrumptious lunch. Danielle died on the spot. Her skull was crushed and her blood dyed her favourite emerald green dress crimson. As for Damien, he was much fortunate (or unfortunate, depends on how you look at it) and did not die as he planned to.

Although the death of his sister was purely an accident, Damien was convicted of reckless driving and sentenced to 10 years in prison. Needless to say Damien was suspended from driving for life. Ridden with guilt and shame, Damien refused to see any of his family or friends during visiting hours. Years passed and soon none of his family or friends came to visit him but they did send him letters which he never replied.

It has been 10 years since the accident and until now Damien could not forgive himself for that moment of rage. In spite of everything life has to go on and today Damien is on his way – home. But there is this restlessness stirring in him because he is unsure whether he would still be welcomed back home. So a week before his release he wrote a letter addressed to both of his parents:

Dear Papa and Mama,

I know it has been almost 10 years since you have heard from me but I would like you to know that I will be released in a week’s time. Papa, Mama I miss you both so much but I don’t know whether you would feel the same way. As a son I have not been filial and have never done my duties and I begged that you allow me to make it up to you in whatever way I can.

My heart is full of guilt, although it has been many years since Danielle’s death. Papa, Mama, please know that I am really sorry. I really am. I understand it’s hard for you to accept me, an ex-convict under your roof. So I ask that you give me a sign.

I will be taking the night bus home and it will pass by the house on the way to the station. If I remembered correctly, we used to have two lamps fixed on top of the pillars of our gate. Papa, Mama if you do not mind acknowledging me as your son please turn both of the lamps on and I will be at the gate to meet you. But if you do not want me as your son any longer then please do not bother to switch on either lamp. Don’t worry, I will find myself a decent job and a place to stay.

Love you always,

Damien.

As Damien recalled what he had wrote; streaks of tears flowed down his cheeks as he looked out of the bus window. It has been an hour since the bus begun its journey and Damien knew that in half an hour he will be either meeting his parents or go on his separate way.

The air-conditioning was working a little too well and it was nearly freezing, which was of no help to the already nervous Damien. All twenty two passengers were wrapped up in their sweaters, some resting their eyes, others SMS-ing while some read books. Damien was wearing his thick cotton sweater, a gift from his mother ten Christmases before. He got up looking a little shaky like a puppy left out in the cold and made his way to the front of the bus. He turned to face the rest of the passengers and cleared his throat for attention.

“Dear friends my name is Damien Fernandez and I am an ex-convict.”

At once all eyes and ears were on him. They were looking and listening attentively, as if this was a stick-up.

“I was sentence to 10 years in prison and now I am released to the society for good. I know that we do not know each other even remotely well but I would like to ask for a favour. ”

Still there was silence; the only sound one could hear apart from Damien’s shaky voice was the bus’ engine.

“Don’t worry, I promise it won’t cost you a thing. You see, I am on my way home but I am not sure whether my parents would still accept me. So I asked them for a sign which was to light up both lamps of the gate if they would like to welcome me. If not they could keep the lamps off to signal they would rather be without me.

I seek your help because I am afraid of the possibility that they might reject me. So please look out for my house, it’s the corner lot on your right along Jalan Riong and 57 is the house number. In about 10 minute’s time, you should be able to see it.

I will be at my seat covering my face with my two hands. Only if you see the lamps on, you are to come over to my seat and give me a tap on my shoulder. Otherwise, please leave me on my own to figure out how to deal with rejection. That’s all.

…Thank you.”

As he returned to his seat, they turned toward him, gave him a forced but genuine smile and a knowing look. Damien began to cover his face with both of his hands and laid his trust on his newly met acquaintances. All eyes (except Damien’s of course) were looking out the bus window in anticipation to catch the first glimpse of the house along the now (in)famous Jalan Riong. Damien knew it was anytime now and this will either make or break him.

The passengers gasped.

Upon hearing that, Damien’s heart sunk. His closed eyes started to tear like leaking faucets. But next he heard loud cheers composed of twenty three various voices (including the bus driver’s). The bus stopped moving. Damien was confused at this answer provided by his acquaintances. He just could not hide his curiosity any longer. He lifted his head and peered out the window.

He too gasped.

If he did not know better that it was still the month of January, Damien might have thought it was Christmas. No not that there was anything that resembled snow. Rather there were strings of multi-colored lights strung on power lines leading to the house of 57, Jalan Riong. As Damien’s eyes traced the path of the power lines, he saw not just two bright and glowing lamps atop gate pillars but a house which was lighted from top to bottom! Strings of Christmas-lights adorned the house from the rooftop to the pillars, even the windows and doors! It was a sight to behold!

But where are his parents? Damien got out of the bus and walked towards the open gate into the dimly lit garden. He stopped to his tracks. His mum and dad were standing at a distance smiling and waving bright orange glow sticks. In the midst of darkness, Damien saw more glow sticks warming up to a full glow. First it was 5. Then he saw 20. The numbers increased until all was illuminated.

There stood his mum and dad, aunts and uncles, cousins, best friends and school mates! Each and every one of them was smiling as they held on to their bright orange glow sticks.

Damien’s eyes welled up with tears and he broke down crying like a child who was lost and now found. He sat down on the moist carpet grass with his legs curled; he folded his hands and placed them on his knees in place of a shoulder to cry on. He wept.

A little while later, he sensed a shadow hovering above him and shortly after he felt an embrace, and immediately he recognized that familiar scent.

“Hush son. Papa is here. Don’t worry everything will be alright. I just want you to know that neither Mama nor I ever held a grudge against you. And I want you to remember this: that no matter what, you –

Damien Augustine Fernandez will always, always be my son.”