It was the end of the year, which meant rainy season. And rainy season meant bird jerky. Crows disappeared when the rain came, so for the past month, Ma and I had been making bird jerky.

  I once asked Ma why the food was so dark. She just tapped her hammer on the table and said, "It's bird jerky, dear. Crows are loud, free and oversupplied. Now eat." I didn't ask again.

  I looked out the window. Rain poured down mercilessly. Fog swallowed everything. I could no longer see the park in front of our house.

  Suddenly I had a great idea. I went to the kitchen and took a tall tube and waddled outside. I took a few jumps and jumped onto the wicker chair. It groaned under my weight. I opened the cover of the tall tube. Inside was filled with bird jerky. Ma prepared lots of snacks just in case we starved. So nice.

  I grabbed one piece at a time while enjoying the scenery. Normally I would have shoved a handful into my mouth, but Ma once caught me doing that and lectured me for an entire day. "That's why you're getting rounder and rounder. At this rate, it'll be faster for you to roll than to walk!"

  I frowned, the memory of that lecture still prickling my skin. I shook my legs up and down, trying to shake the irritation loose. "Kids are cute when they're round. Those aunties said so. Ma, big meanie."

  Thud.

  "Mew."

  A soot-black cat appeared on the wall separating our house from the neighbors'. Its tail curled lazily like drifting smoke, rain beading on its sleek fur while pale eyes glimmered with quiet judgment.

  I stared at it. It stared back. "Cat?" I looked at its shimmering fur. Would it be nice to touch?

  I leaned forward, hands outreached, forgetting how a round body cooperates enthusiastically with gravity, I rolled down like an avalanche. "OOF!"

  My body rolled a few times before it remembered I was human. My back lay flat on the ground, the cat now above strolled back and forth the wall, probably amused. A minute later, I heard loud crashes inside my house. Then came Ma's voice, "Dear! Be careful! The ground just shook. It might be a mini earthquake."

  My lips stuck out. Ma... Our country is safe from natural disasters. That little quake you felt... was me. I closed my eyes and sniffed. My heart ached, a tight squeeze. When I opened my eyes, Sis was standing above me with her school uniform and bag. One corner of her mouth lifted, her eyes narrowing into an evil little grin. She didn't just walk away; she paused to mimic my flailing limbs with a cruel, jerky dance, her silent laughter more piercing than any shout. She dashed into the house, leaving me alone in the dirt with the judgmental cat.

  A tear slipped from the corner of my eye. My chest felt… wrong. Tight in a place I had never noticed before. My hands curled, then loosened again, like they were searching for something to hold that didn't exist. Something invisible had been taken. Something I didn't know I was allowed to lose.

  Ah… what is this weird feeling?

  It burned quietly, like a bruise forming under the skin. Not pain. Not sadness. Just a hollow ache that made me want to shrink smaller than my own shadow. That was the day I discovered a feeling called lost dignity. I just didn't learn its name until much later.

  The cat snorted at me and jumped off the wall. In the meantime, I struggled to get up. Both my arms and legs were flailing in the air. If someone saw me, they would think I was a toppled potato and snicker. Can't blame them. I would be placed in 'Hell Level' in Spot the Difference game.

  Ma came out and saw me 'playing' on the ground. She shook her head and pulled me up. "My goodness, didn't you hear me calling you?" Her eyes traced from top to bottom and pinched her nose and moved a step back. "Oh, wash up, dear. And be quick... maybe not so quick. I have something important to discuss at dinner." She quickly took the jerky inside and went in. I followed behind her and quickly went in to shower.

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  Soon, it was dinner. Sis and I gathered at the table, staring at Ma who had her fingers intertwined, her head down. Sis and I looked at each other, then at Ma. Is it bad news?

  We waited patiently, after all, Ma's trusty hammer is still beside her. After a minute, Ma placed her hands down and straightened her back and announced, "I-I... don't know how to say this..." Ma whispered. Sis and I leaned in, thinking what tragedy had struck. When suddenly Ma's voice boomed, "We shall go on a picnic this Saturday." Sis and I stared at Ma, stunned. So... it was just picnic? Why is it so important?

  I wanted to ask but the hammer's pressure answered. Sis and I just patiently waited for Saturday for the answer.

  Saturday came and Ma brought us to a rural area. It has sky, killer sun, grass and more grass. She placed a mat on the ground under the hot sun. Placed the basket down under the hot sun. Told us to run UNDER THE HOT SUN. Yes. It is on purpose because no one in their right mind would go scorch themselves in this weather.

  I sat on the mat, looking up, glared at sun and lost. Useless but I was very young then. Excuse my stupidity. Just as I stood up, Ma took a rope out from the food basket and tied me up. I looked down and saw I was tied up into a ball. Ma shook her head lightly, "You might be slow, but your body is fast."

  I turned to where Ma's gaze was and saw a steep slope. If I tripped on that slope, I might 'run' faster than a cheetah! I nodded and stayed beside Ma while Sis reluctantly played at a distance.

  While I was still tied up like a human ball, I felt an intense gaze. I turned back and saw a shadow zip behind a tree. Hmm...? Are we being stalked? I turned to Ma and nudged her with my head—the only part of me that could still move. Ma ignored me. I kept nudging until she finally grabbed my head, her finger digging into my forehead like a blunt nail.

  Hmm...? I peeked up at her and, for the first time, saw an evil glint in her eyes and dark fumes practically curling out of her mouth. To a child, it was a vision of pure horror. "You... better have a reason why you're disturbing me," she hissed.

  A tear welled up in my eye. I shook my head with all my heart. Ma loosened her grip and went back to enjoying the scenery, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw the shadow again.

  Should I tell Ma? Or...

  Ma's evil look flashed before me—the dark fumes, the piercing eyes. My body trembled. No, it wasn't worth the hammer. It'll be okay, I told myself, squeezing my eyes shut. Ma is smart. Ma is scary. She'll figure it out when the time comes.

  Soon Sis came back and we had our lunch. We opened and it was more bird jerky. Sis and I looked at Ma. "Bird jerky again?"

  Ma slowly put her hand into the basket, and took a hammer out. We all recognized that hammer. We looked away and didn't say another word.

  "I thought so." She placed her hammer into the basket and we continued to enjoy a peaceful lunch.

  Another hour passed. The sun climbed higher, merciless and white. The heat was gruesome. It didn't just melt your body. It melted your thoughts, thinned your breath, and made the world feel heavy and far away.

  Even the wind seemed reluctant to move.

  The insects were silent.

  I lay there on my back, unable to lift a single finger. My eyelids drooped. Light soaked through them, burning red behind the dark. My breathing slowed, each inhale feeling like it had to travel a longer distance than the last.

  Something was wrong.

  The air around me thickened.

  Then a smell—rusted metal and old rain—it didn't just fill my nose; it filled my head. The man appeared right above me. A man I had never seen before, yet somehow felt familiar. The space around him felt heavier, as if the air had forgotten how to move. A faint, bitter smell drifted toward me, like rain striking rusted metal. My chest tightened.

  My heart hammered against my ribs, a painful, frantic rhythm. "P-P… Pa…" The name felt like a jagged stone in my throat.

  I wanted to say more but everything went dark.

  I burned with fever for several days. Time didn't move in hours; it moved in shapes. I lay in a world made of red light and heavy air. In my dreams, the soot-black cat from the wall didn't jump off; it grew taller and taller until its tail turned into the man's shadow. The smell of rusted metal filled my lungs until I couldn't breathe, and every time I tried to call for "Pa," the sound was replaced by the rhythmic thump-thump-thump of Ma's hammer hitting a wooden table.

  A few hours—or perhaps days—later, I woke to a cool, damp cloth pressed against my forehead. Ma was sitting beside me. She did not look worried. She did not look angry. She looked… thoughtful.

  Her fingers lingered on my brow for a moment longer than necessary. Then she sighed, stood, and walked away without a word.

  By the time I recovered, that picnic had faded into a blur. The slope, the heat, the shadow beneath the trees, even the bitter smell in the air slowly unraveled and disappeared.

  As the days passed, I forgot it completely. Sometimes I wonder if the memories disappear… or if they are simply waiting for something to appear.