Late at night when Julian walked home with swaying his hips after candling eggs in Tita Polly’s poultry farm. He grew up in the bottom of the sordid squatter living with his family and an only child. Far from their house he could hear his mother Annie crying in too much pain and his father named Bartolome screaming groggy voice. Frequently, Bartolome went home drunk and asked money for his deadly vices or perhaps, uncontrolled to his emotion for misconception and jealous to his wife. Julian fell bad to see this hideous scenery and frightened him.

 Young Julian hurriedly stepped on to their house and unknowingly thrown his satchel on the floor to protect his mother from his father’s injustice acts. Bartolome stood above them, his strong legs shaking, hold him tight an ... Read more »