The Rain That Washes Away Nothing

In the quiet, unassuming corners of our daily lives, we often brush past strangers without knowing the heavy burdens they carry. We see the street vendor selling snacks at the bus terminal, the successful agent driving a shiny new car, and we assume their lives are parallel lines that will never intersect. But in a small town in Nueva Ecija, those lines did not just cross—they crashed into each other with devastating force, proving that the past is never truly dead. It is merely waiting for the right moment to resurface.

This is the harrowing story of Richard and John Fred, a tale that began in the innocence of a schoolyard and ended on a dark, rain-slicked highway. It is a narrative that forces us to confront the lingering scars of bullying, the failure of justice, and the terrifying length a broken soul will go to restore a sense of balance to their world.

The Origin of Pain

To understand the tragedy that unfolded on that fateful February night, we must travel back ten years to a bustling public high school. It was here that the seeds of resentment were sown. Richard was a quiet, frail thirteen-year-old boy. He was the kind of student who blended into the background, seemingly invisible to everyone—except to those looking for a target.

John Fred, on the other hand, was the polar opposite. Born into a wealthy family that owned a prominent rice mill, he walked the hallways with an air of invincibility. He was popular, loud, and used to getting what he wanted. Unfortunately for Richard, he became the object of John Fred’s amusement.

The bullying wasn’t just verbal teasing; it was physical and relentless. But the breaking point came on a day that should have been ordinary. As Richard walked home, clutching his old, worn-out backpack, he was cornered at a waiting shed. What ensued was not a fight, but a one-sided assault. A devastating blow to Richard’s face damaged his eyesight, sending him crumbling to the concrete pavement. As he lay there, helpless, he was kicked repeatedly, his pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears until a tricycle approached, forcing the aggressor to flee.

A System That Failed

The physical wounds were treated at a local hospital, but the emotional and systemic wounds were left to fester. Richard’s parents, Norma and Roberto, sought justice. They filed complaints, armed with medical certificates and photos of their battered son. They hoped that the school and the barangay would hold the bully accountable.

However, reality often favors the powerful. During the confrontation, John Fred’s parents were reportedly dismissive, shifting the blame onto the victim. Witnesses who initially supported Richard suddenly retracted their statements, likely swayed by influence or fear. In the end, because both were minors, the case was reduced to a “child welfare” issue. The result? A simple counseling session for the aggressor. No suspension, no apology, and no financial help for Richard’s medical bills.

For John Fred, it was a minor inconvenience. For Richard, it was the end of his world. The trauma and the permanent damage to his optic nerve forced him to drop out of school. His dreams of becoming an electrician evaporated. He retreated into the shadows of his home, afraid of the world outside, nursing a bitterness that would grow silently for a decade.

The Chance Encounter

Ten years is a long time. It is enough time for a bully to forget his victim, but never enough for a victim to forget his tormentor.

Richard, now 23, had tried to rebuild a semblance of a life. He worked as a humble vendor, selling native snacks at a busy bus terminal to support his aging mother, Norma. His father had passed away years prior, leaving him as the sole breadwinner. Richard was a ghost in the crowd—scarred, poor, and unnoticed.

Then, fate intervened.

One afternoon, while peddling his goods, Richard saw a car pull up. The window rolled down, and there he was: John Fred. The years had been kind to him. He was now a successful car agent, looking polished, happy, and content. He had moved on, completely unaware of the wreckage he had left behind in Richard’s life.

For Richard, seeing the man who destroyed his future living so prosperously triggered something dormant. The humiliation of the past, the pain of his blinded eye, and the injustice of it all came rushing back. The blood rushed to his head. The quiet vendor decided that if the world wouldn’t give him justice, he would take it himself.

The Anatomy of a Plan

Richard didn’t act immediately. He became a shadow, stalking his prey with chilling precision. He used social media to track John Fred’s life, finding his address and learning his routine. He discovered the time John Fred left work, the route he took, and the specific spot near his home where the streetlights were broken and no CCTV cameras watched.

He watched from the other side of the street, clenching his fists, memorizing every detail. He bought a small blade from the market. This wasn’t a crime of passion in the heat of the moment; it was a calculated, cold execution of a decade-long sentence.

The Night of Retribution

On February 18, dark clouds blanketed the town. The rain began to fall, setting a gloomy stage for the inevitable conclusion. Richard waited in the shadows of the unlit street.

At exactly 9:00 PM, a red sedan pulled over. John Fred stepped out, holding an umbrella, his eyes glued to his phone. He was completely oblivious to the figure emerging from the darkness behind him.

In a split second, the confrontation occurred. It was swift. There were no long speeches, no dramatic confrontations. Just a sudden loss of balance, a struggle, and then silence. John Fred fell, his life ebbing away on the wet asphalt, the rain washing over the scene but unable to cleanse the tragedy of the act.

Richard didn’t panic. He calmly cleaned his weapon with a wet cloth, disposed of it in a nearby river, and discarded his hoodie. He walked away, blending into the night, leaving behind a lifeless body and a lifetime of anger.

The Letter and The Slippers

The following morning, the town woke up to the news of a “robbery gone wrong.” John Fred’s body was found, and police were baffled by the lack of evidence. No witnesses, no footage.

But the truth lay on a small pillow in a humble home. Richard had returned that night to his sleeping mother. He didn’t wake her. He simply kissed her forehead and left a white envelope.

When Norma opened it, her world collapsed. It was a letter of confession and farewell. Richard thanked her for her love and admitted that he had finally “collected the debt” owed to him by the person who ruined his life. He wrote that he might never come home again.

Police investigations eventually connected the dots. The “robbery” theory was discarded as the motive of revenge became clear. A massive search for Richard was launched, but he was nowhere to be found.

Weeks later, a pair of worn-out slippers was discovered by the riverbank under a bridge. Norma confirmed they belonged to her son. The discovery sparked two theories: either Richard had used the river to escape to a distant province, or he had ended his own journey in those waters, unable to live with what he had done.

A Community Divided

The funeral of John Fred was a somber affair. His parents wept for a son who was taken too soon, a young man with a bright future ahead of him. Yet, among the whispers of the townspeople, there was a complicated mix of emotions.

While no one condoned the taking of a life, many who knew Richard’s story felt a pang of sorrow for the perpetrator as well. They remembered the shy boy who was bullied mercilessly. They remembered the system that turned a blind eye to his suffering. In the court of public opinion, there were two victims that night: the man who lost his life, and the man who lost his soul to vengeance.

The Endless Wait

Today, the case remains technically open, but cold. Sightings of Richard have been reported over the years—a man matching his description in a terminal in Pangasinan, a lonely figure in a crowd—but none have been confirmed.

For Aling Norma, the story has no ending. On cold mornings, she still visits the riverbank where his slippers were found, holding the tattered envelope that contains his last words. She refuses to light a candle for his soul, a ritual for the dead, because in her heart, she believes he is still out there.

She waits for the day her son might knock on the door again, hoping against hope that forgiveness—both from the law and from God—might find a way to intervene.

A Tragic Lesson

The story of the vendor and the agent is a stark reminder of the long-term impact of our actions. Bullying is not just a “phase” or “kids being kids.” It damages psyches, alters destinies, and can plant seeds of hatred that bloom into tragedy years down the line.

We often think of justice as a gavel banging in a courtroom. But when that gavel stays silent, the streets sometimes deliver their own twisted version of a verdict. In this heartbreaking saga, there were no winners. One family lost a son to a blade, and another lost a son to the darkness of revenge. It is a cautionary tale that begs us to be kinder, to look deeper, and to remember that the wounds we inflict on others today may become the scars that define our future.