As a secondary teacher, I'm teaching teen-age kids. Some people might think that it is hard to teach these kids but actually it is not. Because of their surprisingly high energy and unsurpassing stamina, we find them hard to handle. You just have to learn their views, interests and activities.
The kids now-a-days are very hyper and they are always looking for means to entertain themselves, which includes love itself.
How did I say that it is just an entertainment?
I'm twenty-two, and with a maturing person like me who is still single, love is not that easy to find. Work and responsibity taught me to think first before I act. In terms of a companion, I am looking for a man who is worthy enough, whether just a companion, he has to be capable enough to support all my means. I have to think about the future, ofcourse.
But these kids, ah, they are young and careless. They do not need to think about the future. Love for them is a game that they are just playing. Courtship is as easy as A-B-C and verbs are even harder.
They talk about love like how grown-ups talk about it but they change their heart as much as they change their undies.
This so happen as my topic is about love that they said that one of their classmates had only one crush from first to third year of her stay in school. I am so amazed that I actually congratulate her. I guess she has a very pure heart and a heart that is always gold.
Love can be a game for some of the teen-agers, but game as it is, they must not forget that they have a responsibility also and that is themselves. They have to take care of themselves as not to go beyond the bounderies of the thing they call "Love." And we as the grown-ups, we have to bare with them because that is their way of self-expression, that is their interest, but we have to be patient in supervising them because that is our responsibility.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Ryeowook: From Boy To Man!!!
Omona!!! Omona!!! Our cute, lovely baby boy has turned into a mature man. What a transition!?
I showed one of my friends from Everlasting Friends (E.L.F.) this video and you know what she said? She said she cannot watch the video because she felt jealousy against the dancer.
Most of Super Junior's long time followers like me are really shocked with his new image. From a baby boy, one of the youngest in Suju, he is now a grown-up man. Some of us can't accept this yet but on my part, despite the surprise, the screams, the shock, I am really crying with joy because of this performance. It is not the usual Wookie that I know. I am so used with his subgroup Suju K.R.Y. that I forgot that he is all grown-up now.
In some of his blogs, (of course I am not sure if it is truly his or just some posers,) he usually talks about his age. It bothers him as much as how my age bothers me. He is 23 (Korean age, 22 in Westhern age) same as me, but I am too used with the 20 year old Wookie of the past that I totally forgot that he ages, too. Same as me, he is also a maturing person and when we mature, we tend to think more about the reality of responsibility.
Seeing this video, I understand now that each of us grow up. He is responsible in making us happy and I am responsible on giving the youth a future. I remember what I said in my theater when I am giving a workshop, "our job is to make the audience feel us, make them happy, give them the feeling," and that is what Ryeowook did to me, he made me feel him, made me happy and gave me the feeling of what he must be feeling.
Truly, he is a grown-up man now, but to me, he is still Super Junior's Ryeowook who still belongs to E.L.F. and the owner of E.L.F.
I showed one of my friends from Everlasting Friends (E.L.F.) this video and you know what she said? She said she cannot watch the video because she felt jealousy against the dancer.
Most of Super Junior's long time followers like me are really shocked with his new image. From a baby boy, one of the youngest in Suju, he is now a grown-up man. Some of us can't accept this yet but on my part, despite the surprise, the screams, the shock, I am really crying with joy because of this performance. It is not the usual Wookie that I know. I am so used with his subgroup Suju K.R.Y. that I forgot that he is all grown-up now.
In some of his blogs, (of course I am not sure if it is truly his or just some posers,) he usually talks about his age. It bothers him as much as how my age bothers me. He is 23 (Korean age, 22 in Westhern age) same as me, but I am too used with the 20 year old Wookie of the past that I totally forgot that he ages, too. Same as me, he is also a maturing person and when we mature, we tend to think more about the reality of responsibility.
Seeing this video, I understand now that each of us grow up. He is responsible in making us happy and I am responsible on giving the youth a future. I remember what I said in my theater when I am giving a workshop, "our job is to make the audience feel us, make them happy, give them the feeling," and that is what Ryeowook did to me, he made me feel him, made me happy and gave me the feeling of what he must be feeling.
Truly, he is a grown-up man now, but to me, he is still Super Junior's Ryeowook who still belongs to E.L.F. and the owner of E.L.F.
K-Pop Mania in the Philippines Goes Extreme
As a big Super Junior fan, I always browse about them on the net like any fan does. I scream when they are performing on the stage even if I am just watching it on Youtube. I'm like... "I know every performances that they made."
So, gosh!!! What kind of E.L.F (Everlasting Friend-Suju's official fanclub) are you if you don't know about their Super Show II? And of course I know about that and I am one of those fans who anticipated their concert and I was like... "Omona, Kibum watched the show!" and "Omona, oppa, you are so hot!" but the truth is haven't watched the whole lot to think that most of the videos are already uploaded in the net and most of my E.L.F friends already watched it.
But enough of those, what I really want to talk about is the competition of these K-Pop groups: Super Junior, 2ne1, Wondergirls, SS501 and Shinee in the Philippines.
Fire of 2ne1 topped the P.O.T Myx hitchart just last month, Nobody of Wondergirls was also included and Sorry Sorry of Super Junior. I just don't know if the songs of Shinee and SS501 were also a hit.
As I noticed just today, most of my students sing the song of Wondergirls and 2ne1 and as a fan of Super Junior I am a little bit jealous because only few of them know the song Sorry Sorry and there is no sign that they even know the song Noreago which was also shown in Myx. But jealousy aside, I noticed that the songs which became well-known are the songs of girls. Hmmpp... I am wondering why? Could it be because of Sandara Park (member of 2ne1) once won in a reality show in the Philippines? Well, probably. But what about Wondergirls? What did J.Y.P. (the talent company of Wondergirls) do to make it a well-known group here in the Philippines and to think that Nobody was released last year? Why did ABS-CBN released an English version of it? JYP and ABS-CBN, a new partnership?
I also wonder about SS501 and Shinee. They sang most of the soundtrack of Boys Over Flowers (A well-known TV Drama in the Philippines) but they are not as famous as the girl groups above. Wierd, right?
How about the group SNSD (So Ni Shi Dae, I don't know is that is right), it is a girl group but they are not famous here, so as Kara, Jewelry, and many more.
K-Pop is a little known in the Philippines and a lot of poeple especially the younger ones go crazy about it. Realizing that this is so, the question on K-Pop mania become more and more puzzling to me now. What do Filipinos want? What do Filipinos prefer? What made some of the K-pop groups more interesting to us than others? What are the factors behind this sudden interest?
And the last question is... When will Sorry Sorry and Neorago become as famous as Fire and Nobody here in the Philippines? ~~~ lol~~~ I just added that up because I am quite jealous.. really... ~~~lol~~~
So, gosh!!! What kind of E.L.F (Everlasting Friend-Suju's official fanclub) are you if you don't know about their Super Show II? And of course I know about that and I am one of those fans who anticipated their concert and I was like... "Omona, Kibum watched the show!" and "Omona, oppa, you are so hot!" but the truth is haven't watched the whole lot to think that most of the videos are already uploaded in the net and most of my E.L.F friends already watched it.
But enough of those, what I really want to talk about is the competition of these K-Pop groups: Super Junior, 2ne1, Wondergirls, SS501 and Shinee in the Philippines.
Fire of 2ne1 topped the P.O.T Myx hitchart just last month, Nobody of Wondergirls was also included and Sorry Sorry of Super Junior. I just don't know if the songs of Shinee and SS501 were also a hit.
As I noticed just today, most of my students sing the song of Wondergirls and 2ne1 and as a fan of Super Junior I am a little bit jealous because only few of them know the song Sorry Sorry and there is no sign that they even know the song Noreago which was also shown in Myx. But jealousy aside, I noticed that the songs which became well-known are the songs of girls. Hmmpp... I am wondering why? Could it be because of Sandara Park (member of 2ne1) once won in a reality show in the Philippines? Well, probably. But what about Wondergirls? What did J.Y.P. (the talent company of Wondergirls) do to make it a well-known group here in the Philippines and to think that Nobody was released last year? Why did ABS-CBN released an English version of it? JYP and ABS-CBN, a new partnership?
I also wonder about SS501 and Shinee. They sang most of the soundtrack of Boys Over Flowers (A well-known TV Drama in the Philippines) but they are not as famous as the girl groups above. Wierd, right?
How about the group SNSD (So Ni Shi Dae, I don't know is that is right), it is a girl group but they are not famous here, so as Kara, Jewelry, and many more.
K-Pop is a little known in the Philippines and a lot of poeple especially the younger ones go crazy about it. Realizing that this is so, the question on K-Pop mania become more and more puzzling to me now. What do Filipinos want? What do Filipinos prefer? What made some of the K-pop groups more interesting to us than others? What are the factors behind this sudden interest?
And the last question is... When will Sorry Sorry and Neorago become as famous as Fire and Nobody here in the Philippines? ~~~ lol~~~ I just added that up because I am quite jealous.. really... ~~~lol~~~
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Man...Made in God's Likeness
How could a person become like Jesus? How could we be like him even though we are not God himself? How could we have a spirit as holy as his? How?
It was just any other day. I felt lazy to wake up but I remembered that I haven't got any gift for my student, yet. While I was feeling the laziness inside, I tried to persuade myself to stand up, take a bath and eat my breakfast. After all these routinary activities, I went to the mall to look for the most special yet cheap gift that I can forge my budget in.
"How pathetic!?"
Ok, let us skip some details. With the gift in my hand, me and two of my co-teachers walked towards the venue of the birthday party of one of our students. As we were walking, an old man in quite a poor outfit approached us. He asked us for the direction of this certain hospital in Kawit which I forget the name. We told him how to go there because he said that he is sick and he wants to be treated.
It may be a very usual story but I am still haunted by the thoughts of that very regular day. When I see an old man, I remember that poor old man with a sad eyes. I could have helped more... I could have done better... I could have been better...
I am aiming for self-development yet I am here being me in a sense of complete selfishness. I could have helped that poor old man. I could have shown him to the hospital itself. I could have seen to it that he was treated well yet I stood there while he walked away. I could have abandoned myself and gave it to him just how Jesus abandoned himself for us.
We can be like him. We can be like God. We can have a spirit as holy as his. We can if we just try harder.
It was just any other day. I felt lazy to wake up but I remembered that I haven't got any gift for my student, yet. While I was feeling the laziness inside, I tried to persuade myself to stand up, take a bath and eat my breakfast. After all these routinary activities, I went to the mall to look for the most special yet cheap gift that I can forge my budget in.
"How pathetic!?"
Ok, let us skip some details. With the gift in my hand, me and two of my co-teachers walked towards the venue of the birthday party of one of our students. As we were walking, an old man in quite a poor outfit approached us. He asked us for the direction of this certain hospital in Kawit which I forget the name. We told him how to go there because he said that he is sick and he wants to be treated.
It may be a very usual story but I am still haunted by the thoughts of that very regular day. When I see an old man, I remember that poor old man with a sad eyes. I could have helped more... I could have done better... I could have been better...
I am aiming for self-development yet I am here being me in a sense of complete selfishness. I could have helped that poor old man. I could have shown him to the hospital itself. I could have seen to it that he was treated well yet I stood there while he walked away. I could have abandoned myself and gave it to him just how Jesus abandoned himself for us.
We can be like him. We can be like God. We can have a spirit as holy as his. We can if we just try harder.
Monday, July 27, 2009
A New Beginning
It must be a day like any ordinary day but the fresh air greeted my newly showered body. The chill of the new day is giving me my spirit a lift.
A new day... how long have I waited for it? How sweet... how powerful... how inviting...
A new day... how long have I waited for it? How sweet... how powerful... how inviting...
The WH's
I’ve known myself not an active questions freak student but it so happened that this questions came on my mind.
Do the people in our times care that planet Venus rotate in a perfect pentacle (pentagram) in very four years while the people on ancient times had observed this fascinating fact in their naked eye?
Do we even care that Galileo is a European scientist and not American?
The pagans had worshipped the nature. They protected it against harm because it is their God. We are against Paganism, is that why we are exposed to air pollution, flood, green house effect, acid rains and such?
What if America id still hunted by Jason?
What if Giovanni, Shakespeare, Galileo, Da Vinci are still living today, will they be famous against Michel Jackson, Madonna, and Paris Hilton? What if Einstein became a bartender rather than a scientist? What if Noah became more like the people in his time rather than God’s follower, will we be living today? What if there are witches roaming the Earth?
What if we are all Pagans? What if the Da Vinci Code is true then we are alienated in spirituality? What if Mohammed is the sole prophet? What if Grendel was really a descendant of Cain? What if Pocahontas didn’t help Jamestown? What if the three Maggi didn’t saw Venus the night they were looking for Baby Jesus? What if Venus is rotating in hexagram rather than pentagram? What if Astrology is a subject today?
What if Rizal was born in Spain rather than Philippines? What if the people can breathe underwater? What if the fishes are flying above?
What if one day, we will wake up that Earth is on zero gravity?
What if?
We survive for a long time; people have been people and not dogs. Did it ever occur to us that it is us who made us miserable because it is us who makes our own destiny?
When a town died of cholera, who do we claim the fault? To the government because they didn’t do anything against the spread of plague, but did it ever occur to us that we are the ones who throw garbage in the river?
When a kid killed an old woman, whose flaw was it? To the parents, but did it ever occur to us that he was exposed to a corrupt society?
We invented, we sacrificed, we loved, we killed, we ate, we drank, we are concerned of ourselves but did we asked us what are we supposed to be? We might have been a new Galileo, a Shakespeare, a Rizal or even a Noah. We could have had the heart of the Ancient Greeks and the mind of Peztallozi. We could have been somebody else other than ourselves.
Do the people in our times care that planet Venus rotate in a perfect pentacle (pentagram) in very four years while the people on ancient times had observed this fascinating fact in their naked eye?
Do we even care that Galileo is a European scientist and not American?
The pagans had worshipped the nature. They protected it against harm because it is their God. We are against Paganism, is that why we are exposed to air pollution, flood, green house effect, acid rains and such?
What if America id still hunted by Jason?
What if Giovanni, Shakespeare, Galileo, Da Vinci are still living today, will they be famous against Michel Jackson, Madonna, and Paris Hilton? What if Einstein became a bartender rather than a scientist? What if Noah became more like the people in his time rather than God’s follower, will we be living today? What if there are witches roaming the Earth?
What if we are all Pagans? What if the Da Vinci Code is true then we are alienated in spirituality? What if Mohammed is the sole prophet? What if Grendel was really a descendant of Cain? What if Pocahontas didn’t help Jamestown? What if the three Maggi didn’t saw Venus the night they were looking for Baby Jesus? What if Venus is rotating in hexagram rather than pentagram? What if Astrology is a subject today?
What if Rizal was born in Spain rather than Philippines? What if the people can breathe underwater? What if the fishes are flying above?
What if one day, we will wake up that Earth is on zero gravity?
What if?
We survive for a long time; people have been people and not dogs. Did it ever occur to us that it is us who made us miserable because it is us who makes our own destiny?
When a town died of cholera, who do we claim the fault? To the government because they didn’t do anything against the spread of plague, but did it ever occur to us that we are the ones who throw garbage in the river?
When a kid killed an old woman, whose flaw was it? To the parents, but did it ever occur to us that he was exposed to a corrupt society?
We invented, we sacrificed, we loved, we killed, we ate, we drank, we are concerned of ourselves but did we asked us what are we supposed to be? We might have been a new Galileo, a Shakespeare, a Rizal or even a Noah. We could have had the heart of the Ancient Greeks and the mind of Peztallozi. We could have been somebody else other than ourselves.
An OpEN LeTTeR to the GUY, I...
My Dearest,
It's been long since we last saw each other, just way back then but your face is still what I see in every men.
It's been sometimes when we last talked about a thing that doesn't mean anything ---
maybe for you but not for me.
I don't know if you saw that look in my eyes when we shared glances, it's nothing ---
maybe to you but not to me.
I tried to keep my feelings, locked it inside my heart but still it envelops me whenever I think of you.
I thought before that I knew you but when I read your works you seem to be a very different person but it makes me drawn to you more.
You never even know, how many times I've cried because of my LOVE for you---
maybe IF you did... I don't know....
You never know I made a novel with you as the lead character...
You never know how many papers I wasted writing silly poems of you.
You never know how many sketches of you I hide under my pillow.
Now I've wasted my time to write about you...
The guy I've been longing to touch...
The guy I've been longing to hold...
The guy I wanted to be with...
For the rest of my life.
_112405_
It's been long since we last saw each other, just way back then but your face is still what I see in every men.
It's been sometimes when we last talked about a thing that doesn't mean anything ---
maybe for you but not for me.
I don't know if you saw that look in my eyes when we shared glances, it's nothing ---
maybe to you but not to me.
I tried to keep my feelings, locked it inside my heart but still it envelops me whenever I think of you.
I thought before that I knew you but when I read your works you seem to be a very different person but it makes me drawn to you more.
You never even know, how many times I've cried because of my LOVE for you---
maybe IF you did... I don't know....
You never know I made a novel with you as the lead character...
You never know how many papers I wasted writing silly poems of you.
You never know how many sketches of you I hide under my pillow.
Now I've wasted my time to write about you...
The guy I've been longing to touch...
The guy I've been longing to hold...
The guy I wanted to be with...
For the rest of my life.
_112405_
The Moon, The Cabochon, The Man
It was a chilly night. I was wearing a long dress inside my sweater. It was my first time to visit the province. I am taking a stroll on the sea shore.
The province was silent. The wind touched my cheeks. The sea was calm. I could smell the fresh air. I could hear the sounds of the crickets from the nearby woods.
The stars were sparkling above. The trees were whispering with each other. The flowers accepted their daily blessing of dew.
As I walked, I could hear the birds singing their last song for that day. I could feel the sea breeze on my neck. Splash of water touched my toes.
Being a woman from the city, I enjoyed the peace and calmness of the province while walking at the sea shore at night.
My grandmother owned a house a few miles to the sea, it is big, roomy and rather old.
In the woody part of the shore sat a big stone. I stopped at that stone and sat at the rough edge. From that stone, I watched grandma’s house on the moonlight. It was such a beautiful scene at night. You could see the garden, the large gate and the barristers and walls of the second floor.
The moon hovered above, it was the full moon. It illuminated the surrounding. The moons light reflected on the waters. I saw the yellowish riffles on the calm sea.
“Hello,” a baritone voice came from behind me. I almost jumped out of my skin in shock.
“You are absorbed with the scenery,” he commented.
“Yes, I am…” I answered glancing at him.
“I can see that. Can I sit beside you?” he asked.
“Of course,” I answered delightedly. The man had a broad shoulder. He had a prominent nose, eyes that invited friendship, lips that carried kisses, arms that shielded girls against fears and height that showed prominence. In other words… he is handsome and masculine.
The man told me that his name is Manuel, he is a worker in the mines and he came out in the shore every night. He was waiting for this certain girl but she never appeared in the place. We talked and laughed until I have to come home. Manuel offered to walk me home but I turned down his offer so he gave me a green cabochon instead to hang on my necklace.
I walked down where I came from and reminisced on the surrounding that in my eyes were brighter than before I walked down that same lane.
The house was dim from outside but the outline of the vast garden with its perfect rows of roses and fragrant dama-de-noche can be seen from the small light coming from the sala.
In the sala, my grandmother was still sitting doing her crochets. She looked at me and said, “Where have you gone?”
I answered, “I just took a walk at the bay, Grandma.”
She looked at me from her eyeglasses and said, “Don’t do that again, the bay is dangerous at night.”
“Why, Grandma? I think it is nice at night. It is kinda’ relaxing to take a stroll at night.”
“You don’t know the mystery of the moon, Maritsa.” She said and walked away bringing her crochet with her.
I seated myself on the couch. It is the first time that I saw Grandma disappointed. I stared at the open window and stared at the moon. “What is your mystery as Grandma said?” I asked the moon. I felt the pendant in my secret pocket, it is heavy. I put it out, it is supported by a great brass, but the stone itself is a blue cabochon, smooth in the surface where the light of the moon is refected. I carried it up near to the moon. It is in fact, a vivid resemblance of the moon in silver lining.
The moon illuminated the cabochon, my heart started to race. I felt myself being drag to my grandma’s room. I crossed the newly furnished floor to the stairs.
I knocked on my Grandma’s room but there is no answer. I found it is unlock so I came in. it is the first time that I am in Grandma’s room. The moon lit the queen sized bed. A lamp was burning by the side table. A large classic framed mirror was placed beside the equally classic cabinet.
I walked out. I went to the kitchen. The kitchen is clean and well-lighted. The front door was open on the other hand and Grandma’s cloak which she usually use when she go out and hung by the door was missing.
My heart raced faster. “Where would Grandma go this time of the night?” I asked myself. I saw myself raced to the ground faster than my heart did.
I ran to the pathways, I called on to Grandma but she was nowhere insight. The sounds of the crickets were heavy in my ears. I felt the cabochon heavy in my pocket. Above, the clouds were shadowing the moon. The stars started to dim. The air went still as well as the trees. The birds were no longer singing their melody. The surrounding seemed to be watching my every step; the crickets were shouting their pity.
My feet carried me to the bay. It ran to the woods and finally to the rock where I met my stranger. To my astonishment, the man was there. I sneaked on a trunk of a large narra tree. He was facing my direction but there is somebody else there. The person my stranger was talking had her back on me. She is wearing an old wearied cloak, a crochet vandanna that covered her head against the evening dew. She was wearing a flowery dress my grandmother had been wearing in the sala.
“I had love you once, Marrietta.” The man said
“You wanted my soul.” an old croaked came out from the person’s throat.
“I like to collect the soul of those I love.” The man answered
“Leave my granddaughter alone, Manuel!” the old woman said
“She was walking alone in the woods and she’s very pretty. She reminds me of you, Marrietta.” The baritone voice answered.
“You want her soul too, MALIGNO?! Not my granddaughter!” she exclaimed.
“Then tell her not to wonder at night like what she was doing this very moment.” He said then stared at my hiding place.
I came out of the trunk I was hiding. I crept towards them. I reached my grandma. She held out her hand and said, “Gave me the cabochon, Maritsa!”
I held out the cabochon to her and she picked it up. Grandma shoved it to the man and scolded, “Leave Maritsa alone!”
The man caught the pendant, he smiled then I heard a pop, he was gone.
Grandma and I went back to the main trail without talking to each other. Everything went back to normal, the trees were whispering the incident to each other, the wind kissed my cheek, the crickets were happily cheering, and the birds sang their most beautiful melody while the moon was smiling down to all of us.#
The province was silent. The wind touched my cheeks. The sea was calm. I could smell the fresh air. I could hear the sounds of the crickets from the nearby woods.
The stars were sparkling above. The trees were whispering with each other. The flowers accepted their daily blessing of dew.
As I walked, I could hear the birds singing their last song for that day. I could feel the sea breeze on my neck. Splash of water touched my toes.
Being a woman from the city, I enjoyed the peace and calmness of the province while walking at the sea shore at night.
My grandmother owned a house a few miles to the sea, it is big, roomy and rather old.
In the woody part of the shore sat a big stone. I stopped at that stone and sat at the rough edge. From that stone, I watched grandma’s house on the moonlight. It was such a beautiful scene at night. You could see the garden, the large gate and the barristers and walls of the second floor.
The moon hovered above, it was the full moon. It illuminated the surrounding. The moons light reflected on the waters. I saw the yellowish riffles on the calm sea.
“Hello,” a baritone voice came from behind me. I almost jumped out of my skin in shock.
“You are absorbed with the scenery,” he commented.
“Yes, I am…” I answered glancing at him.
“I can see that. Can I sit beside you?” he asked.
“Of course,” I answered delightedly. The man had a broad shoulder. He had a prominent nose, eyes that invited friendship, lips that carried kisses, arms that shielded girls against fears and height that showed prominence. In other words… he is handsome and masculine.
The man told me that his name is Manuel, he is a worker in the mines and he came out in the shore every night. He was waiting for this certain girl but she never appeared in the place. We talked and laughed until I have to come home. Manuel offered to walk me home but I turned down his offer so he gave me a green cabochon instead to hang on my necklace.
I walked down where I came from and reminisced on the surrounding that in my eyes were brighter than before I walked down that same lane.
The house was dim from outside but the outline of the vast garden with its perfect rows of roses and fragrant dama-de-noche can be seen from the small light coming from the sala.
In the sala, my grandmother was still sitting doing her crochets. She looked at me and said, “Where have you gone?”
I answered, “I just took a walk at the bay, Grandma.”
She looked at me from her eyeglasses and said, “Don’t do that again, the bay is dangerous at night.”
“Why, Grandma? I think it is nice at night. It is kinda’ relaxing to take a stroll at night.”
“You don’t know the mystery of the moon, Maritsa.” She said and walked away bringing her crochet with her.
I seated myself on the couch. It is the first time that I saw Grandma disappointed. I stared at the open window and stared at the moon. “What is your mystery as Grandma said?” I asked the moon. I felt the pendant in my secret pocket, it is heavy. I put it out, it is supported by a great brass, but the stone itself is a blue cabochon, smooth in the surface where the light of the moon is refected. I carried it up near to the moon. It is in fact, a vivid resemblance of the moon in silver lining.
The moon illuminated the cabochon, my heart started to race. I felt myself being drag to my grandma’s room. I crossed the newly furnished floor to the stairs.
I knocked on my Grandma’s room but there is no answer. I found it is unlock so I came in. it is the first time that I am in Grandma’s room. The moon lit the queen sized bed. A lamp was burning by the side table. A large classic framed mirror was placed beside the equally classic cabinet.
I walked out. I went to the kitchen. The kitchen is clean and well-lighted. The front door was open on the other hand and Grandma’s cloak which she usually use when she go out and hung by the door was missing.
My heart raced faster. “Where would Grandma go this time of the night?” I asked myself. I saw myself raced to the ground faster than my heart did.
I ran to the pathways, I called on to Grandma but she was nowhere insight. The sounds of the crickets were heavy in my ears. I felt the cabochon heavy in my pocket. Above, the clouds were shadowing the moon. The stars started to dim. The air went still as well as the trees. The birds were no longer singing their melody. The surrounding seemed to be watching my every step; the crickets were shouting their pity.
My feet carried me to the bay. It ran to the woods and finally to the rock where I met my stranger. To my astonishment, the man was there. I sneaked on a trunk of a large narra tree. He was facing my direction but there is somebody else there. The person my stranger was talking had her back on me. She is wearing an old wearied cloak, a crochet vandanna that covered her head against the evening dew. She was wearing a flowery dress my grandmother had been wearing in the sala.
“I had love you once, Marrietta.” The man said
“You wanted my soul.” an old croaked came out from the person’s throat.
“I like to collect the soul of those I love.” The man answered
“Leave my granddaughter alone, Manuel!” the old woman said
“She was walking alone in the woods and she’s very pretty. She reminds me of you, Marrietta.” The baritone voice answered.
“You want her soul too, MALIGNO?! Not my granddaughter!” she exclaimed.
“Then tell her not to wonder at night like what she was doing this very moment.” He said then stared at my hiding place.
I came out of the trunk I was hiding. I crept towards them. I reached my grandma. She held out her hand and said, “Gave me the cabochon, Maritsa!”
I held out the cabochon to her and she picked it up. Grandma shoved it to the man and scolded, “Leave Maritsa alone!”
The man caught the pendant, he smiled then I heard a pop, he was gone.
Grandma and I went back to the main trail without talking to each other. Everything went back to normal, the trees were whispering the incident to each other, the wind kissed my cheek, the crickets were happily cheering, and the birds sang their most beautiful melody while the moon was smiling down to all of us.#
Monsters Behind the Trap Door
Harlienne was walking alone the third floor corridor. She had just been down to the library doing her homework in History. Dean Delos Santos was a very strict Professor. He had given them a five pages essay about North Korea… of course Harlienne has no problem with that but she wanted to make sure that she’d done it properly.
Flipping the browning pages of the book she had borrowed from the library, a paper dropped. Harlienne studied the neat handwriting on the paper. It was a letter…
June 20, 1998
Dearest Dad,
Good Day. I hope my letter reach you soon. When are you going to visit me in the dormitory? I missed you and mama. When will you be back from Cerritos?
I’m bored here dad. The professors are all right but they are not as smart as they should be. They teach me things I already know. Geography should be an interesting course but my instructors bore me. This is a small university unlike where I came from, so little air to breath here.
If you ask me about my grades, it’s fine. I get good grades. I have also met a lot of friends. They are all nice to me even though I came form Mexico. Dad, consider what I had already told you, come back here to teach. This university needs a mind like yours.
Dad, when you visit me, I will introduce Haley to you. She is the girl I’m telling you in my last letter. She is really eager to meet you.
Your Loving Son,
George
Lost in thought, she walked up the stairs; she walked up another flight of stairs until she was far off the girls’ dormitory. She walked the last steps when she felt a fickle in her hairs. She was having goosebumps.
The alleyway was impossibly dark, darker that it is usually. Few dim lights were flickering along the way casting weird shadows on the walls.
Harlienne walked hurriedly… she could have been imagining things… but everything is so creepy…
Now, her heart was jamming, beating hard inside her chest. She can feel butterflies roaming in her stomach.
Then, the air went still…
Harlienne tried to step a foot but her body went rigid…
She was just imagining it…
Her heart begun to drum hard into her ears but she can still hear the rustling of a cloak…
“Who’s there?” she asked. Her voice echoed through the dark alleyway. Why wasn’t anyone in there? She would certainly feel happy if the dormitory’s caretaker would catch her sneaking through the night.
She heard a clanging of chains…
“I said who’s there?” she snapped but still there is no answer.
Harlienne felt a wet hand grabbed her waist. She was shocked but she tried to grab at her augmenter. She tried to scream but another wet hand came into her mouth. Her oppressor was strong; however she tried to pull free from his grip, it went tighter.
She was now grasping for air… her mouth and nose was covered… her eyes watery… her hand in pain… her toes was beginning to feel numb… she never fainted in her whole life then she remembered… she hadn’t got anything in her stomach since lunch that day…
Harlienne opened her eyes, it was all dark… she felt the softness behind her back. She was in a surprisingly comfortable bed. She was like lying in an airbed back at home. Her pillow is equally soft and beside her is a large chocolate colored teddy bear. “A teddy bear?” Harlienne heart raced… she was not in her own room back at home nor in the girls’ dormitory. She was suddenly awake, she sat up and heard a sob.
At the corner of the room lurked a figure clad in pajamas. He was sitting in the corner with arms resting in his knees and his face hidden from it. She could make out the dark hair that hides the face but she could hear him sob with the occasional wince of the broad shoulder.
It couldn’t have been her abductor, she felt his tight grip and she wrestled with him but of no luck.
Harlienne stepped towards the man. “Who are you?” she asked barely hearing herself. She received no answer. “Is he deaf? Is he mute” she asked herself. She noticed again the broad shoulder.
“I’ll… I’ll just go now,” Harlienne said stammering. She walked away but a powerful hand snatched her wrist. She was pulled down by a force that she didn’t know where he got. She found herself seated on his thighs with his head resting on her shoulder.
She was so shocked when she heard a hoarse voice came from him saying, “Please don’t leave me again.”
“Who are you? What do you want from me?” she asked her abductor.
“You don’t know me anymore?” he said in a sad voice. “I always look down at you in the garden from that window. You don’t see me ‘cause I am here. I missed you so much.”
“Me?! I don’t know you. I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“You had forgotten poor George Delos Santos. Everybody had forgot his greatness.”
“George?” Harlienne asked remembering the letter that she had been reading earlier.
“Yes. You remember me now, Haley?” he said. Harlienne could only make out the sparkle in the corner of his eyes but she couldn’t see any better.
“No… I don’t know you…” she said.
“Please don’t be like that, Haley.” He pleaded.
“I’m not Haley, my name is Harlienne.” She pulled herself away. Now, she got the better view of the guy that was holding her. He must have handsome face once when he was not yet skin and bones. But his eyes, they were blood-stricken. Harlienne pulled up. She looked at his bloody eyes with fear. She ran into the door leaving him sprawled in the floor pleading her to come back.
THREE DAYS LATER…
“I promised to avenge the death of Harlienne… I will do everything in my power to do so. I will see to it that her murderer will see no light in his prison cell.” Jessica told Martin with her eyes full of tears. She had been mourning the death of her best friend since the day they found her body lying on the grounds of the university. It was such an awful picture. Harlienne lying on her back, her body sprawled on the ground like she was trying to run away when a bullet hit her straight in the skull. The brains from her deformed head splashed on the once immaculately clean lawn.
Jessica cried a lot when she saw the body and called Harlienne’s parents immediately. It came as a shock to them all. Her brothers came with her mother limping and crying in their arms. Jessica saw the way Harlienne’s mother cried all over the body. Harleinne is the only girl in the family and the youngest of all four children to top it all. It poured hard on the family to lost a precious child like her.
Jessica had a hint that Harlienne’s death has something to do with the story the latter told her about the guy hidden in the room behind the trap door in the sixth floor. The connection was very vivid; the guy was obviously out of his mind. He is strong. He, who kidnap girls whom he thinks is his girlfriend is roaming in the dark corridors of the school. Why would the school nurture such an individual if they know how dangerous he is? Where did he got that gun? Why is he inside the school ground? George Delos Santos… he is the fist suspect but Jessica didn’t told the police about this.
Jessica was never as busy before, without Harlienne to take over when she was busy in the library and all the commotion about her friend’s death was taking into her nerves. Jessica and Harlienne were the only student assistants in their library; they had an access to the student’s library file and every single detail in the library. They had to follow a strict schedule since they are also studying.
Jessica had visit the trapdoor Harlienne told her but it was not there. She wanted to ask Dean Delos Santos if he knew about the trapdoor but thought otherwise. She didn’t know why but she’s uncomfortable talking to Dean Delos Santos, he is always angry lately. She thought that the police and reporters heated him. Jessica found something about George Delos Santos and Haley Benitez, they were couples for a short time but it stopped easily.
The faculty was doubly strict those days. Curfew was set and hall monitors are everywhere carrying woods and other weapons. “As if the weapons will do wonders against guns” Jessica told herself. Jessica found a very well cover up, she and Martin were both hall monitors that night so they can roam around the university grounds. She decided to visit the trapdoor again…
Martin took as a watcher while she went to the sixth floor. Walking alone, she felt uneasy; the dim lights on the corridors add harassment to her embarrassed soul. She never went out alone in the dark before even if she was assigned as hall monitor.
The vividness of Harlienne’s story was lingering in her mind.
Her heart drummed inside and her knees trembled in fear. It was dark and scary… a hand touched her arms. Her body shook. She tried to scream but a hand went to her mouth.
“What the hell are you doing?” a voice came from behind her. Her shaking body stopped. She sighed heavily. Martin was besides her scowling. “One minute I was just being a look out with you on my side and the next thing I know, you are already gone. Do you know how dangerous it is to go alone?”
“Sorry, I thought we understand each other that you will act as a look out and I’ll go find the trapdoor.”
“Am I stupid to let you do that alone?” Martin whispered.
“Sorry… but I admit, this task is a little scary.”
“A little scary? You are walking alone inside the school ground with a live criminal who had just killed your bestfriend!” he said enraged.
Martin held her hand in his and walked slowly without talking. He lighted their path with his flashlight because the dim lights were not so much of help.
Jessica and Martin walked hand in hand in the dark corridor. Martin extended his hand to touch the wall on his left side. He could feel the smooth surface of the wall but no sign of the trap door. In the morning, the corridor is dim except from the small amount of sunshine that came from two small windows at the top of the stairs that connect the sixth and the fifth floor. A person walking on the corridor would be able to make out the smooth surface of the two walls separated by three meter wide floor. The right wall is adorned by simple dim lights. Few paintings were hanging on the wall to break the monotony of the flesh-colored walls.
But in the night, one will not be able to make out the outstanding classic painting nor the immaculately clean wall except for a few shadows of the paintings that the dim lights reached.
“I think we should go now.” Martin said.
“You go, I’ll find the trapdoor myself.” Jessica replied.
“Do you think I will let you do that? You are threading on dangerous waters. You don’t know what awaits you.” Martin said in an as a matter of fact voice. His hands came in contact with the wall;
“Leave me alone, Martin. I can do this alone. I have to do this for the sake of my best friend.”
“You are hardheaded.” Martin snapped. “Why don’t you just tell the cops what you know and let them do their thing?”
“I can’t. I don’t know why. Maybe it is just my intuition.” Jessica told Martin. “You are Dean Delos Santos’ student assistant, right.”
“Yes. Why?” he answered with his hands still on the wall.
“Do you know if he has a younger relative who became a student in this school?”
“He has a son who became a student her. They said his son was a very intelligent but he never finished his course here.”
“What happened to his son?” Jessica asked. Her heart beat faster.
“No one knows.”
Martin stopped dead on his tracks. He looked overhead and saw straight from the dim light the reflection of a nun patting a dark colored dog framed in an intricate Barocco painting.
“I think I found the trapdoor.” He whispered under his breath.
“Let us…” Jessica started saying when she heard a rustling of cloak. “What was that?” she asked Martin.
“What?” Martin asked back.
Jessica silenced Martin with her hands. “I hear rustling of a cloak,” she whispered.
Martin listened very intently. He held Jessica’s hand into him. She was shaking. They felt cold air came into the corridor. Every thing went silent. The silence was deafening.
Heavy foot was approaching their way, clinging with him is the night air, cold and withdrawn.
Martin pushed the trapdoor, he pulled Jessica inside. Inside, they could hear the foot and cloak walking away.
The room was dark; Jessica adjusted her eyes on the dark and made out small features of the room. Small amount of light entered the window on the opposite side of the room. The moon’s light illuminated the bed. The room was empty except for the bed, a study table and few cabinets adorned by a young boy’s things.
It seemed that the occupant of the room was no where in sight.
“What are you doing pulling me inside this trapdoor?” Jessica snapped.
“What else can we do? What if that’s the killer?” Martin answered.
“What if the killer is here?”
“Oh yeah…” he said shrugging his shoulders. “I’m naïve sometimes.”
“Good for you to know,” Jessica said studying the silent room.
The two of them spread out. They look at the cabinets beside the door. They looked for clues that might tell them if the man occupying the room was Harlienne’s killer.
Martin stopped on the study table. Jessica joined him in.
It was empty except for some scratched books and a drawing. Marin lighted his flash light on the paper. Very vivid was a picture of a boy surrounded by five large headed monsters. From each of them oozed red blood. Sharp claws were trying to reach the boy. He was trying to escape but he was surrounded.
“What are you doing with my drawing?” a hoarse voice exclaimed beyond them.
Jessica jumped in shock. She and Martin stared at the grave appearance of the guy clad in matching pajamas. He was walking towards them from the opposite side of the room which they haven’t checked yet.
The man could have been handsome once but now he is almost skin and bones. His hands were free but his foot was tied to a chain that extended at the foot of the bed. The chain allowed the man only to roam around the room until through the door.
Jessica eyed the man. His face was sweaty and tear drenched. His eyes which could have been gray were blood-stricken. Large eye bags could be seen under his eyes. His cheekbones are prominent from the thin of his cheeks.
The man walked through them.
Jessica didn’t bulge. Her body became solid. Martin tried to move her but with no luck. Her eyes were affixed on the guy’s eyes. She was trying pear into his soul.
Martin tried to cover Jessica with his body but the man shoved him away like a weightless lift.
The man toughed Jessica’s face… he held her eyes in his… his face cam into hers… his lips neared hers…
Jessica was suddenly awake. Martin had smacked the man right into the face. Martin drag Jessica with him. They ran into the trapdoor.
“Haley, please don’t leave me.” The man sprawled on the floor pleaded. “The monsters… they would get me!”
Jessica and Martin looked back. They saw the guy illuminated by the moon’s light from the window. He was tossing and turning on the floor. He clutched the wood panel of the bed. He scratched his nails on the cement on the floor. The guy stared at nothingness. His bloody eyes were bulging with fear. He growled at the window and then into them. The man ran into them, his eyes raging in hatred. He was tearing with his fingers into his way as if trying to grab at somebody.
Martin held Jessica’s hand and they ran outside the trapdoor.
The guy inside tried to rip open the door from inside. Martin and Jessica secured the door holding it transferring their weight into the door. They could hear the chain clanging and banging inside.
“What are you doing staring at him like that?” Martin asked under his breath.
“I don’t know… I felt hypnotized…” Jessica answered putting all her strength on the door.
“Well, well, well…” a baritone voice came from behind. The noise inside eased out. Jessica and Martin looked at their back.
“Professor Delos Santos!?” Martin exclaimed.
“What do two hall monitors doing in this side of the dormitory without a faculty member?” he inquired.
“Well… we just wanted…” Jessica started to stammer.
“We found a trap door where the lunatic is hidden!” Martin exclaimed to Jessica’s horror.
“So you had met my son.” Dean Delos Santos said.
Both of them stared at the Dean.
“Your friend was naïve walking down this corridor late that night. She heard me walking in here and got afraid. She asked me who I am then my son heard her. He was thrilled to have a visitors especially if she resembles Haley. Of course, she found out about my son so I killed her when she inquired about him.”
“You… you…” Jessica stammered.
“I did, so will I do to you. You too are nosy. I could have left you alone if you had left my son alone, but you didn’t.” Dean Delos Santos said. He pulled a gun with a silencer from inside his coat.
“You can’t!” Jessica exclaimed.
“Oh, I’ve done it before, with the girl named Haley and the your bestfriend, Harlienne. She’s quite has some brains, I must say, too bad she’s got to go so are you two. Martin would be a great loss, too being my student assistant.” He said.
“Professor…” Martin stammered.
“Don’t worry son, your parents will be proud of you.”
Martin gathered all his strength and pushed the Dean away giving the two of them just enough time to run away.
The two of them ran to the foot of the stairs of the roof top… the door was locked… they are trapped…
“Nowhere to go now…” Dean Delos Santos said at their back. He pointed his gun on Martin.
Jessica held on to Martin. He was blocking her with his body. His body rigid against her shaking body.
Dean Delos Santos was near into pulling the trigger… the time seemed to slow down… near… very near… very very near…
“FREEZE!” a solid voice shouted at the back of the Dean. Jessica could only make out several guns pointed at the Dean’s back. “Put down your gun. Hands in the air. You are coming with us to the station. You have the right to remain silent.” The officer in charge exclaimed.
Jessica visited Harlienne’s funeral early the day after the incident happened. Martin was with her. She was the star witness on the case filed against Dean Delos Santos. Gerald Delos Santos was brought to the hospital for mental therapy. He had been hidden in that room behind the trapdoor for so long due to the pride of his father. He was kept a secret after Dean Delos Santos killed his own wife by means of suffocation and claimed that she died of heart attack. Gerald’s father was accused of four heinous crimes.#
Flipping the browning pages of the book she had borrowed from the library, a paper dropped. Harlienne studied the neat handwriting on the paper. It was a letter…
June 20, 1998
Dearest Dad,
Good Day. I hope my letter reach you soon. When are you going to visit me in the dormitory? I missed you and mama. When will you be back from Cerritos?
I’m bored here dad. The professors are all right but they are not as smart as they should be. They teach me things I already know. Geography should be an interesting course but my instructors bore me. This is a small university unlike where I came from, so little air to breath here.
If you ask me about my grades, it’s fine. I get good grades. I have also met a lot of friends. They are all nice to me even though I came form Mexico. Dad, consider what I had already told you, come back here to teach. This university needs a mind like yours.
Dad, when you visit me, I will introduce Haley to you. She is the girl I’m telling you in my last letter. She is really eager to meet you.
Your Loving Son,
George
Lost in thought, she walked up the stairs; she walked up another flight of stairs until she was far off the girls’ dormitory. She walked the last steps when she felt a fickle in her hairs. She was having goosebumps.
The alleyway was impossibly dark, darker that it is usually. Few dim lights were flickering along the way casting weird shadows on the walls.
Harlienne walked hurriedly… she could have been imagining things… but everything is so creepy…
Now, her heart was jamming, beating hard inside her chest. She can feel butterflies roaming in her stomach.
Then, the air went still…
Harlienne tried to step a foot but her body went rigid…
She was just imagining it…
Her heart begun to drum hard into her ears but she can still hear the rustling of a cloak…
“Who’s there?” she asked. Her voice echoed through the dark alleyway. Why wasn’t anyone in there? She would certainly feel happy if the dormitory’s caretaker would catch her sneaking through the night.
She heard a clanging of chains…
“I said who’s there?” she snapped but still there is no answer.
Harlienne felt a wet hand grabbed her waist. She was shocked but she tried to grab at her augmenter. She tried to scream but another wet hand came into her mouth. Her oppressor was strong; however she tried to pull free from his grip, it went tighter.
She was now grasping for air… her mouth and nose was covered… her eyes watery… her hand in pain… her toes was beginning to feel numb… she never fainted in her whole life then she remembered… she hadn’t got anything in her stomach since lunch that day…
Harlienne opened her eyes, it was all dark… she felt the softness behind her back. She was in a surprisingly comfortable bed. She was like lying in an airbed back at home. Her pillow is equally soft and beside her is a large chocolate colored teddy bear. “A teddy bear?” Harlienne heart raced… she was not in her own room back at home nor in the girls’ dormitory. She was suddenly awake, she sat up and heard a sob.
At the corner of the room lurked a figure clad in pajamas. He was sitting in the corner with arms resting in his knees and his face hidden from it. She could make out the dark hair that hides the face but she could hear him sob with the occasional wince of the broad shoulder.
It couldn’t have been her abductor, she felt his tight grip and she wrestled with him but of no luck.
Harlienne stepped towards the man. “Who are you?” she asked barely hearing herself. She received no answer. “Is he deaf? Is he mute” she asked herself. She noticed again the broad shoulder.
“I’ll… I’ll just go now,” Harlienne said stammering. She walked away but a powerful hand snatched her wrist. She was pulled down by a force that she didn’t know where he got. She found herself seated on his thighs with his head resting on her shoulder.
She was so shocked when she heard a hoarse voice came from him saying, “Please don’t leave me again.”
“Who are you? What do you want from me?” she asked her abductor.
“You don’t know me anymore?” he said in a sad voice. “I always look down at you in the garden from that window. You don’t see me ‘cause I am here. I missed you so much.”
“Me?! I don’t know you. I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“You had forgotten poor George Delos Santos. Everybody had forgot his greatness.”
“George?” Harlienne asked remembering the letter that she had been reading earlier.
“Yes. You remember me now, Haley?” he said. Harlienne could only make out the sparkle in the corner of his eyes but she couldn’t see any better.
“No… I don’t know you…” she said.
“Please don’t be like that, Haley.” He pleaded.
“I’m not Haley, my name is Harlienne.” She pulled herself away. Now, she got the better view of the guy that was holding her. He must have handsome face once when he was not yet skin and bones. But his eyes, they were blood-stricken. Harlienne pulled up. She looked at his bloody eyes with fear. She ran into the door leaving him sprawled in the floor pleading her to come back.
THREE DAYS LATER…
“I promised to avenge the death of Harlienne… I will do everything in my power to do so. I will see to it that her murderer will see no light in his prison cell.” Jessica told Martin with her eyes full of tears. She had been mourning the death of her best friend since the day they found her body lying on the grounds of the university. It was such an awful picture. Harlienne lying on her back, her body sprawled on the ground like she was trying to run away when a bullet hit her straight in the skull. The brains from her deformed head splashed on the once immaculately clean lawn.
Jessica cried a lot when she saw the body and called Harlienne’s parents immediately. It came as a shock to them all. Her brothers came with her mother limping and crying in their arms. Jessica saw the way Harlienne’s mother cried all over the body. Harleinne is the only girl in the family and the youngest of all four children to top it all. It poured hard on the family to lost a precious child like her.
Jessica had a hint that Harlienne’s death has something to do with the story the latter told her about the guy hidden in the room behind the trap door in the sixth floor. The connection was very vivid; the guy was obviously out of his mind. He is strong. He, who kidnap girls whom he thinks is his girlfriend is roaming in the dark corridors of the school. Why would the school nurture such an individual if they know how dangerous he is? Where did he got that gun? Why is he inside the school ground? George Delos Santos… he is the fist suspect but Jessica didn’t told the police about this.
Jessica was never as busy before, without Harlienne to take over when she was busy in the library and all the commotion about her friend’s death was taking into her nerves. Jessica and Harlienne were the only student assistants in their library; they had an access to the student’s library file and every single detail in the library. They had to follow a strict schedule since they are also studying.
Jessica had visit the trapdoor Harlienne told her but it was not there. She wanted to ask Dean Delos Santos if he knew about the trapdoor but thought otherwise. She didn’t know why but she’s uncomfortable talking to Dean Delos Santos, he is always angry lately. She thought that the police and reporters heated him. Jessica found something about George Delos Santos and Haley Benitez, they were couples for a short time but it stopped easily.
The faculty was doubly strict those days. Curfew was set and hall monitors are everywhere carrying woods and other weapons. “As if the weapons will do wonders against guns” Jessica told herself. Jessica found a very well cover up, she and Martin were both hall monitors that night so they can roam around the university grounds. She decided to visit the trapdoor again…
Martin took as a watcher while she went to the sixth floor. Walking alone, she felt uneasy; the dim lights on the corridors add harassment to her embarrassed soul. She never went out alone in the dark before even if she was assigned as hall monitor.
The vividness of Harlienne’s story was lingering in her mind.
Her heart drummed inside and her knees trembled in fear. It was dark and scary… a hand touched her arms. Her body shook. She tried to scream but a hand went to her mouth.
“What the hell are you doing?” a voice came from behind her. Her shaking body stopped. She sighed heavily. Martin was besides her scowling. “One minute I was just being a look out with you on my side and the next thing I know, you are already gone. Do you know how dangerous it is to go alone?”
“Sorry, I thought we understand each other that you will act as a look out and I’ll go find the trapdoor.”
“Am I stupid to let you do that alone?” Martin whispered.
“Sorry… but I admit, this task is a little scary.”
“A little scary? You are walking alone inside the school ground with a live criminal who had just killed your bestfriend!” he said enraged.
Martin held her hand in his and walked slowly without talking. He lighted their path with his flashlight because the dim lights were not so much of help.
Jessica and Martin walked hand in hand in the dark corridor. Martin extended his hand to touch the wall on his left side. He could feel the smooth surface of the wall but no sign of the trap door. In the morning, the corridor is dim except from the small amount of sunshine that came from two small windows at the top of the stairs that connect the sixth and the fifth floor. A person walking on the corridor would be able to make out the smooth surface of the two walls separated by three meter wide floor. The right wall is adorned by simple dim lights. Few paintings were hanging on the wall to break the monotony of the flesh-colored walls.
But in the night, one will not be able to make out the outstanding classic painting nor the immaculately clean wall except for a few shadows of the paintings that the dim lights reached.
“I think we should go now.” Martin said.
“You go, I’ll find the trapdoor myself.” Jessica replied.
“Do you think I will let you do that? You are threading on dangerous waters. You don’t know what awaits you.” Martin said in an as a matter of fact voice. His hands came in contact with the wall;
“Leave me alone, Martin. I can do this alone. I have to do this for the sake of my best friend.”
“You are hardheaded.” Martin snapped. “Why don’t you just tell the cops what you know and let them do their thing?”
“I can’t. I don’t know why. Maybe it is just my intuition.” Jessica told Martin. “You are Dean Delos Santos’ student assistant, right.”
“Yes. Why?” he answered with his hands still on the wall.
“Do you know if he has a younger relative who became a student in this school?”
“He has a son who became a student her. They said his son was a very intelligent but he never finished his course here.”
“What happened to his son?” Jessica asked. Her heart beat faster.
“No one knows.”
Martin stopped dead on his tracks. He looked overhead and saw straight from the dim light the reflection of a nun patting a dark colored dog framed in an intricate Barocco painting.
“I think I found the trapdoor.” He whispered under his breath.
“Let us…” Jessica started saying when she heard a rustling of cloak. “What was that?” she asked Martin.
“What?” Martin asked back.
Jessica silenced Martin with her hands. “I hear rustling of a cloak,” she whispered.
Martin listened very intently. He held Jessica’s hand into him. She was shaking. They felt cold air came into the corridor. Every thing went silent. The silence was deafening.
Heavy foot was approaching their way, clinging with him is the night air, cold and withdrawn.
Martin pushed the trapdoor, he pulled Jessica inside. Inside, they could hear the foot and cloak walking away.
The room was dark; Jessica adjusted her eyes on the dark and made out small features of the room. Small amount of light entered the window on the opposite side of the room. The moon’s light illuminated the bed. The room was empty except for the bed, a study table and few cabinets adorned by a young boy’s things.
It seemed that the occupant of the room was no where in sight.
“What are you doing pulling me inside this trapdoor?” Jessica snapped.
“What else can we do? What if that’s the killer?” Martin answered.
“What if the killer is here?”
“Oh yeah…” he said shrugging his shoulders. “I’m naïve sometimes.”
“Good for you to know,” Jessica said studying the silent room.
The two of them spread out. They look at the cabinets beside the door. They looked for clues that might tell them if the man occupying the room was Harlienne’s killer.
Martin stopped on the study table. Jessica joined him in.
It was empty except for some scratched books and a drawing. Marin lighted his flash light on the paper. Very vivid was a picture of a boy surrounded by five large headed monsters. From each of them oozed red blood. Sharp claws were trying to reach the boy. He was trying to escape but he was surrounded.
“What are you doing with my drawing?” a hoarse voice exclaimed beyond them.
Jessica jumped in shock. She and Martin stared at the grave appearance of the guy clad in matching pajamas. He was walking towards them from the opposite side of the room which they haven’t checked yet.
The man could have been handsome once but now he is almost skin and bones. His hands were free but his foot was tied to a chain that extended at the foot of the bed. The chain allowed the man only to roam around the room until through the door.
Jessica eyed the man. His face was sweaty and tear drenched. His eyes which could have been gray were blood-stricken. Large eye bags could be seen under his eyes. His cheekbones are prominent from the thin of his cheeks.
The man walked through them.
Jessica didn’t bulge. Her body became solid. Martin tried to move her but with no luck. Her eyes were affixed on the guy’s eyes. She was trying pear into his soul.
Martin tried to cover Jessica with his body but the man shoved him away like a weightless lift.
The man toughed Jessica’s face… he held her eyes in his… his face cam into hers… his lips neared hers…
Jessica was suddenly awake. Martin had smacked the man right into the face. Martin drag Jessica with him. They ran into the trapdoor.
“Haley, please don’t leave me.” The man sprawled on the floor pleaded. “The monsters… they would get me!”
Jessica and Martin looked back. They saw the guy illuminated by the moon’s light from the window. He was tossing and turning on the floor. He clutched the wood panel of the bed. He scratched his nails on the cement on the floor. The guy stared at nothingness. His bloody eyes were bulging with fear. He growled at the window and then into them. The man ran into them, his eyes raging in hatred. He was tearing with his fingers into his way as if trying to grab at somebody.
Martin held Jessica’s hand and they ran outside the trapdoor.
The guy inside tried to rip open the door from inside. Martin and Jessica secured the door holding it transferring their weight into the door. They could hear the chain clanging and banging inside.
“What are you doing staring at him like that?” Martin asked under his breath.
“I don’t know… I felt hypnotized…” Jessica answered putting all her strength on the door.
“Well, well, well…” a baritone voice came from behind. The noise inside eased out. Jessica and Martin looked at their back.
“Professor Delos Santos!?” Martin exclaimed.
“What do two hall monitors doing in this side of the dormitory without a faculty member?” he inquired.
“Well… we just wanted…” Jessica started to stammer.
“We found a trap door where the lunatic is hidden!” Martin exclaimed to Jessica’s horror.
“So you had met my son.” Dean Delos Santos said.
Both of them stared at the Dean.
“Your friend was naïve walking down this corridor late that night. She heard me walking in here and got afraid. She asked me who I am then my son heard her. He was thrilled to have a visitors especially if she resembles Haley. Of course, she found out about my son so I killed her when she inquired about him.”
“You… you…” Jessica stammered.
“I did, so will I do to you. You too are nosy. I could have left you alone if you had left my son alone, but you didn’t.” Dean Delos Santos said. He pulled a gun with a silencer from inside his coat.
“You can’t!” Jessica exclaimed.
“Oh, I’ve done it before, with the girl named Haley and the your bestfriend, Harlienne. She’s quite has some brains, I must say, too bad she’s got to go so are you two. Martin would be a great loss, too being my student assistant.” He said.
“Professor…” Martin stammered.
“Don’t worry son, your parents will be proud of you.”
Martin gathered all his strength and pushed the Dean away giving the two of them just enough time to run away.
The two of them ran to the foot of the stairs of the roof top… the door was locked… they are trapped…
“Nowhere to go now…” Dean Delos Santos said at their back. He pointed his gun on Martin.
Jessica held on to Martin. He was blocking her with his body. His body rigid against her shaking body.
Dean Delos Santos was near into pulling the trigger… the time seemed to slow down… near… very near… very very near…
“FREEZE!” a solid voice shouted at the back of the Dean. Jessica could only make out several guns pointed at the Dean’s back. “Put down your gun. Hands in the air. You are coming with us to the station. You have the right to remain silent.” The officer in charge exclaimed.
Jessica visited Harlienne’s funeral early the day after the incident happened. Martin was with her. She was the star witness on the case filed against Dean Delos Santos. Gerald Delos Santos was brought to the hospital for mental therapy. He had been hidden in that room behind the trapdoor for so long due to the pride of his father. He was kept a secret after Dean Delos Santos killed his own wife by means of suffocation and claimed that she died of heart attack. Gerald’s father was accused of four heinous crimes.#
Sticky Dream
Richard came out from a black limousine. He was wearing the finest suit he got for a birthday present last week. He walked elegantly on the isle. It is not his first dinner party for the politicians’ children. “Richard,” a familiar face said. “You’re fashionably late again”, the kid commented. Richard smiled and walked. He was greeted by more boys of his age. A waiter offered him punch and escorted him to a table with an immaculately white cloth. Richard talked and laughed. “Richard,” a girl approached. Her hair danced while she walked unto him. “Why didn’t you answer my texts?” she said pulling out her video phone.
Richard pulled out from the curb… a big man was running after him… then another big man pulled out before him. The man was large with a thick mustache and a cigarette in his hand. Richard run the other way but the man on his back grabbed him… he staggered wildly... he was grasping out of breath… he was shaking all over… “CUT!” the director shouted. “Good take, good take!” he said smiling at Richard.
Richard took a plate of cake from a refrigerator in his room. He was starving hard from playing his newest game in game cube. He hadn’t noticed the time, it was past his lunch and he was still in front of his personal computer.
Richard went out of the van. His father didn’t let him drive on his own even if he was almost seventeen and a capable driver. His father wanted to make sure that he got the finest securities their money could buy. Richard stood outside the vast building of UP. It was his own choice even if his family was capable of putting him in Ateneo. He wanted to study in UP more than anywhere else. Well… he had a bright which was his investment in the particular school…
“Richard,” a voice called. Richard picked up a plastic bag with a sticky brown liquid inside… it is almost solid… Richard sniffed at the opening of the plastic. He lowered his eyes. He saw from a far a woman with a wallet sneaking out of her bag. “You were day dreaming again,” the voice said. The man owning the voice kicked him mildly at his side. “Go, get up before Boss sees you slotting around,” the man said walking away. Quiapo was full of people, busy bodies were everywhere. The other ‘RUGBY BOYS’ were nowhere in sight probably picking on their targets. “A boy could dream sometimes,” Richard told himself pulling the plastic containing the rugby he had been sniffing for a while. The essence of the glue was almost gone so he tossed it away and focused his eyes on the woman he saw earlier…
Richard pulled out from the curb… a big man was running after him… then another big man pulled out before him. The man was large with a thick mustache and a cigarette in his hand. Richard run the other way but the man on his back grabbed him… he staggered wildly... he was grasping out of breath… he was shaking all over… “CUT!” the director shouted. “Good take, good take!” he said smiling at Richard.
Richard took a plate of cake from a refrigerator in his room. He was starving hard from playing his newest game in game cube. He hadn’t noticed the time, it was past his lunch and he was still in front of his personal computer.
Richard went out of the van. His father didn’t let him drive on his own even if he was almost seventeen and a capable driver. His father wanted to make sure that he got the finest securities their money could buy. Richard stood outside the vast building of UP. It was his own choice even if his family was capable of putting him in Ateneo. He wanted to study in UP more than anywhere else. Well… he had a bright which was his investment in the particular school…
“Richard,” a voice called. Richard picked up a plastic bag with a sticky brown liquid inside… it is almost solid… Richard sniffed at the opening of the plastic. He lowered his eyes. He saw from a far a woman with a wallet sneaking out of her bag. “You were day dreaming again,” the voice said. The man owning the voice kicked him mildly at his side. “Go, get up before Boss sees you slotting around,” the man said walking away. Quiapo was full of people, busy bodies were everywhere. The other ‘RUGBY BOYS’ were nowhere in sight probably picking on their targets. “A boy could dream sometimes,” Richard told himself pulling the plastic containing the rugby he had been sniffing for a while. The essence of the glue was almost gone so he tossed it away and focused his eyes on the woman he saw earlier…
AUTOPILOT
How would you feel if you are the person who was always lat in the line? How would you feel to be left out?
The house was full of people; it’s James’s brother’s graduation. He is a Summa Cum Laude from UP High School. He will be taking up Law at the same school. Everybody would love to have geniuses for brother but not him.
Their father is a marine biologist while their mother is a university professor. James’s older sister is a Prima Ballerina in Philippine Ballet Institute, she’s taking ECE at Mapua Institute of Technology, she is also a part-time dubber and DJ but most of the time writer. Well… that is my family.
James loves scale modeling, he once wanted to be a pilot but when he learned that it consists of many math thought of it afterwards so he thought of bungee jumping instead. James was a lil’ impatient and he admits it. But above all this, he wanted to be an artist. James hands are gifted. He once told his pals that he draws even when he was still in his mom’s womb.
He wanted to be an artist but he never withdraws his love for planes. When he was hanging out with the boys, he was reading about planes and flying them. Sometimes, he surfs the net for plane models.
Those times are his relaxing moments but aside from those times, his life is miserable... and today is one…
People were buzzing all around but James was bored. He wasn’t allowed to bring his friends over because his parents didn’t like them. They thought that they were all but some turfs in the streets who were reckless and bad influenced. His parents thought that his friends will only make the guests feel uncomfortable. If your guest was the president of a prestigious school, who wouldn’t be uncomfortable.
Large is expected of James, they want him to be a doctor particularly a surgeon which he refuses. But James was not the kind of person to be told what to do., he don’t want a boring life. He is curious and adventurous. He tried smoking at the age of twelve, tried weed and pot but he stopped, even though he was a little out of hand, he still knew what was right and wrong.
James can be a good student if he sets his mind on it but never the best. He never wanted to be the top of the class.
He had made up his mind that he is going to live in Alabama with his Grandma and decided to fly next week. His grandma is a fine lady and he is her favorite grand child.
James sat next to the window near the cockpit. It was not his first time on a plane but he was excited. When he told his parents that he wanted to go, his mother claimed that he just wanted to go to his grandma’s so that he could do all his mischief. She then taunted him of being a “spoiled brat.”
His father stared at him as if reading his thoughts but didn’t say a thing. His sister wept so hard like they were close but he knew better than to believe his own dream. His brother just asked him when his flight was and went to the library.
James sighed. The long flight was nearing its end but he was still enjoying the ride when he heard a rumbling sound, almost a vibration that seemed to come from the wing. James wondered what the sound was when the plane shudder, the nose of the plane falling down. Suddenly, everything tilted at a crazy angle. James was lifted off his seat, his seatbelt cutting into his thighs. He felt a sudden sickness in his stomach.
From the cockpit, James heard alarms “stall, stall!” and everything went quiet. James saw two blue steward suited men walked out of the cockpit as if nothing happened. The men went to the back and gone to the business class suite. James felt sick but his instinct told him to go to the cockpit, he was sure that what happened was a mild turbulence.
Inside the cockpit, James gasped. Two stewardesses were sprawled at the wall. The first officer was cramped up on his seat so was the captain. They were all shot at the heart by a gun. James felt light-headed and he gasped for air. If somebody told him this would happen in his flight, he could have just stayed at home enduring his boring family.
James saw that the captain is holding the lever that discharged the slats. The slats of the airplane created the turbulence but why the captain did that, James was not sure. Nobody would want damage or turbulence. James checked the systems and everything was normal. He had to see where the plane’s other officers where to control the plane.
James ran to the last cabin but all he saw were more dead bodies of the crew, eleven in all. The two he saw earlier were gone and one of the emergency doors was open. “What the… we were ambushed!” he told himself and knew that no one would be able to fly the plane anymore. He ran towards the cockpit again, when an old man called him.
“Hey kid, what just happened and where are all the stewardesses?” the old man asked.
James didn’t know what to do so he said that he would call one. He went to the cockpit and locked the cockpit door. He pushed the dead captain away. If anybody can, he can…
Everything was still in fine condition except for the shouts for help James could hear outside that cockpit. James picked up the radio and called the nearest Air Traffic Control. He requested an emergency landing to LA and for ambulances.
“How many ambulances do you need?” asked the control personnel.
“I don’t know… a full force of twenty. I think…” James hesitated.
“Who are you?”
“Don’t ask just do what I said. It’s a very long story,” James said and cut the line. He told the passengers to fasten their seatbelt and he concentrated on the controls. He used the plane’s autopilot mode until they reach the airport. This helped assure that everything went well.
James was greeted by an admiral after he went out of the hospital; they checked him up for any injury from the turbulence. He was a hero.
The next day, his family arrived at his Grandma’s house. His mother hugged him. He felt all emotions poured into him. His eyes shadowed, tears poured out of him. It’s the first time James was hugged by his mother. His sister was still crying. For the first time James felt the presence and the love of his family.
A month later, he was informed that what happened in the plane was a terrorist attack. They killed the crew then escaped leaving the plane to crush but James was there and saved the day.
James smiled at me. “People are like planes, Seline. We need a pilot to direct us but we have our autopilot. We can control our own decisions so we can go on life smoothly. We should not be handled steely or we’re gonna’ suffer turbulence.”
The house was full of people; it’s James’s brother’s graduation. He is a Summa Cum Laude from UP High School. He will be taking up Law at the same school. Everybody would love to have geniuses for brother but not him.
Their father is a marine biologist while their mother is a university professor. James’s older sister is a Prima Ballerina in Philippine Ballet Institute, she’s taking ECE at Mapua Institute of Technology, she is also a part-time dubber and DJ but most of the time writer. Well… that is my family.
James loves scale modeling, he once wanted to be a pilot but when he learned that it consists of many math thought of it afterwards so he thought of bungee jumping instead. James was a lil’ impatient and he admits it. But above all this, he wanted to be an artist. James hands are gifted. He once told his pals that he draws even when he was still in his mom’s womb.
He wanted to be an artist but he never withdraws his love for planes. When he was hanging out with the boys, he was reading about planes and flying them. Sometimes, he surfs the net for plane models.
Those times are his relaxing moments but aside from those times, his life is miserable... and today is one…
People were buzzing all around but James was bored. He wasn’t allowed to bring his friends over because his parents didn’t like them. They thought that they were all but some turfs in the streets who were reckless and bad influenced. His parents thought that his friends will only make the guests feel uncomfortable. If your guest was the president of a prestigious school, who wouldn’t be uncomfortable.
Large is expected of James, they want him to be a doctor particularly a surgeon which he refuses. But James was not the kind of person to be told what to do., he don’t want a boring life. He is curious and adventurous. He tried smoking at the age of twelve, tried weed and pot but he stopped, even though he was a little out of hand, he still knew what was right and wrong.
James can be a good student if he sets his mind on it but never the best. He never wanted to be the top of the class.
He had made up his mind that he is going to live in Alabama with his Grandma and decided to fly next week. His grandma is a fine lady and he is her favorite grand child.
James sat next to the window near the cockpit. It was not his first time on a plane but he was excited. When he told his parents that he wanted to go, his mother claimed that he just wanted to go to his grandma’s so that he could do all his mischief. She then taunted him of being a “spoiled brat.”
His father stared at him as if reading his thoughts but didn’t say a thing. His sister wept so hard like they were close but he knew better than to believe his own dream. His brother just asked him when his flight was and went to the library.
James sighed. The long flight was nearing its end but he was still enjoying the ride when he heard a rumbling sound, almost a vibration that seemed to come from the wing. James wondered what the sound was when the plane shudder, the nose of the plane falling down. Suddenly, everything tilted at a crazy angle. James was lifted off his seat, his seatbelt cutting into his thighs. He felt a sudden sickness in his stomach.
From the cockpit, James heard alarms “stall, stall!” and everything went quiet. James saw two blue steward suited men walked out of the cockpit as if nothing happened. The men went to the back and gone to the business class suite. James felt sick but his instinct told him to go to the cockpit, he was sure that what happened was a mild turbulence.
Inside the cockpit, James gasped. Two stewardesses were sprawled at the wall. The first officer was cramped up on his seat so was the captain. They were all shot at the heart by a gun. James felt light-headed and he gasped for air. If somebody told him this would happen in his flight, he could have just stayed at home enduring his boring family.
James saw that the captain is holding the lever that discharged the slats. The slats of the airplane created the turbulence but why the captain did that, James was not sure. Nobody would want damage or turbulence. James checked the systems and everything was normal. He had to see where the plane’s other officers where to control the plane.
James ran to the last cabin but all he saw were more dead bodies of the crew, eleven in all. The two he saw earlier were gone and one of the emergency doors was open. “What the… we were ambushed!” he told himself and knew that no one would be able to fly the plane anymore. He ran towards the cockpit again, when an old man called him.
“Hey kid, what just happened and where are all the stewardesses?” the old man asked.
James didn’t know what to do so he said that he would call one. He went to the cockpit and locked the cockpit door. He pushed the dead captain away. If anybody can, he can…
Everything was still in fine condition except for the shouts for help James could hear outside that cockpit. James picked up the radio and called the nearest Air Traffic Control. He requested an emergency landing to LA and for ambulances.
“How many ambulances do you need?” asked the control personnel.
“I don’t know… a full force of twenty. I think…” James hesitated.
“Who are you?”
“Don’t ask just do what I said. It’s a very long story,” James said and cut the line. He told the passengers to fasten their seatbelt and he concentrated on the controls. He used the plane’s autopilot mode until they reach the airport. This helped assure that everything went well.
James was greeted by an admiral after he went out of the hospital; they checked him up for any injury from the turbulence. He was a hero.
The next day, his family arrived at his Grandma’s house. His mother hugged him. He felt all emotions poured into him. His eyes shadowed, tears poured out of him. It’s the first time James was hugged by his mother. His sister was still crying. For the first time James felt the presence and the love of his family.
A month later, he was informed that what happened in the plane was a terrorist attack. They killed the crew then escaped leaving the plane to crush but James was there and saved the day.
James smiled at me. “People are like planes, Seline. We need a pilot to direct us but we have our autopilot. We can control our own decisions so we can go on life smoothly. We should not be handled steely or we’re gonna’ suffer turbulence.”
“Angels beyond the Cotton Candy in the Horizon”
“Mama, I want the blue and white cotton candy,” that is what I used to ay when I was still young. I will drag my mother outside to show her the white fluffy things in the blue background on the horizon. For me, it is the most delicious cotton candy a four year old kid could eat.
My mother would say “That is not a cotton candy, darling. That is the sky. The sky is made by God where angels hide while watching for the people on Earth. The angels are guardians who watch out for little kids to find out if they are good or bad. They guard children against harm and accidents.”
“I have an angel, mother?” I used to ask, “Yes, darling. Look at the sky,” she said pointing at the sky, “Your angel is up there, his wings are hidden in the fluffy white clouds and his robe is hanging on the blue horizon.”
Ever since that day, I would look at the sky and say that my angel is up the white and blue cotton candy watching over me.
When I stepped on the phase of my elementary life, I learned different things, things about the sun, stars, moon, trees, birds, mountains and definitely the sky. The clouds are the white fluffy cotton candy which are formed from a series of evaporation and pour down after cycle that includes condensation. That is the time that I thought of the words of Mother, “the sky is made by God where angels hide while watching for the people on Earth,” then I asked myself, “are there really angels above those large delicious-looking white and blue cotton candy? Did Mother said it so that I won’t go looking for cotton candy? Was she imagining things? Was that just a tale made up for children to enjoy?
Then I came into conclusion, the sky is made by God not to be eaten but to be appreciated and to inspire people to imagine it. They were made by God for people to enjoy, to inspire poet to write poetry, to let little children believe in angels and to let older people make up stories for children to believe.
My mother would say “That is not a cotton candy, darling. That is the sky. The sky is made by God where angels hide while watching for the people on Earth. The angels are guardians who watch out for little kids to find out if they are good or bad. They guard children against harm and accidents.”
“I have an angel, mother?” I used to ask, “Yes, darling. Look at the sky,” she said pointing at the sky, “Your angel is up there, his wings are hidden in the fluffy white clouds and his robe is hanging on the blue horizon.”
Ever since that day, I would look at the sky and say that my angel is up the white and blue cotton candy watching over me.
When I stepped on the phase of my elementary life, I learned different things, things about the sun, stars, moon, trees, birds, mountains and definitely the sky. The clouds are the white fluffy cotton candy which are formed from a series of evaporation and pour down after cycle that includes condensation. That is the time that I thought of the words of Mother, “the sky is made by God where angels hide while watching for the people on Earth,” then I asked myself, “are there really angels above those large delicious-looking white and blue cotton candy? Did Mother said it so that I won’t go looking for cotton candy? Was she imagining things? Was that just a tale made up for children to enjoy?
Then I came into conclusion, the sky is made by God not to be eaten but to be appreciated and to inspire people to imagine it. They were made by God for people to enjoy, to inspire poet to write poetry, to let little children believe in angels and to let older people make up stories for children to believe.
PO-OUCH-TION
Pansy Parkinson slipped a small bottle containing pinkish liquid into the Slytherin table. She emptied its content into a mug in front of the blonde boy with grayish blue eyes.
Draco Malfoy, considered in school as “Prince of Slytherin” pushed his pumpkin juice into Goyle then took a sip on Crabbe’s “Strawberry and Soda Float”. Pansy was in front of him smiling. He raised an eyebrow then smirked. ‘How would he able to get this girl out of his shoulder, she’s such a burden… and to think that he actually snugged her… what a SHAME?!
He then felt two pairs of eyes staring at him. He looked around and saw the curly haired, Hermione Granger looking at him from the Gryffindor table. He’s heart beat so fast and so sudden that he suppressed an urge to cry.
He looked back at Hermione, he smiled then winked. She immediately took her eyes off him looking disgusted and oppressed the same time. He then forced to restrain an urge to laugh then toyed with his food.
Draco was walking in Heaven all day; he even pulled off detention from two second years that were sending off Filibuster’s fireworks down the corridor in the amazement of his two security officers, Crabbe and Goyle. After a while, he snapped back into Earth when a first year bumped into him.
‘Watch where you were going, firstie!’ he snapped giving the innocent faultless kid a “I’LL GIVE YOU A PUNISHMENT YOU’LL NEVER FORGET” stare. The kid just stood there; face all white… dumbstruck… that will be your reaction when a tall brute with an HB badge and two large-bodied goons look down on you.
‘What are you staring at, you wanted detention?!’ Malfoy glared at the kid who turned violet and started to tremble.
‘Hey!’ a voice came from behind. Hermione Granger saw everything and came immediately to the aid of the kid. She had a look in her that says “TOUCH THE BOY AND YOU’RE DEAD!” ‘Look at what you’ve done to him, he is shaking all over, you evil ferret of a git!’ she snapped at Draco.
‘Watch the language, Granger!’ Crabbe stepped forward in front of Hermione but Malfoy stepped in front of him.
‘Why, you seemed kind of fond with children these days, Mudblood,’ Malfoy said while he forced himself to suppress another urge to ask Hermione to bear his children… “you’re mad, Draco…” he told himself.
Hermione stared at him…
He gulped…
‘Well, let’s make a deal, Granger.’ Draco told Hermione.
‘What deal?’ She asked sternly.
‘Since you’re rather fond of him, you will take this boy’s place in punishment.’ He proposed.
‘For bumping on you, Malfoy… you’ll gonna punish a kid?’ Hermione fumed aware of the stare that she is getting from the young boy beside her.
‘Yes, ‘cause he’s bugging me’.
‘OK… Try me…’ Hermione retorted. Draco smirked. ‘What do you have in mind?’
Draco smiled and stared at her letting it linger. Hermione stared back, expressionless. It was a battle of wills… hatred… emotions… the battle of hearts that were drumming inside each chest.
After what seemed like ages, Hermione raised her eyebrow and Draco smirked. ‘I’ll figure out something. For now, make sure that you have the best day of your life ‘cause it may be your last.’ He said and walked out smiling, Crabbe and Goyle trailing him.
Draco was smiling at himself , now he has that Granger girl in his grasps… and probably much more…
‘Hummph, I wonder…’ Draco whispered to himself. He turned to his friends. ‘Hey, I’ll just run some errand. (A/N: Running an errand? I wonder… not really Draconess, right?) Proceed to the common room without me. Password’s, POWERSURGE, if you forget.’ He said and walked away. He came to a statue of a wizard with a bald head, and waited there.
Just a minute later…
‘Hey, Granger,’ Draco called from the shadow of the bald wizard. ‘Alone Mudblood? Did famous Scarhead and the Weasel left you out. Had they figured they don’t wanna be with you anymore? You bugging them with you’re revision schedule and their head can’t take it anymore? Can’t reproach them, they’re such pea brains…’
Hermione came to a halt beside him. ‘What do you want, Malfoy?’ she said and started walking again. Draco followed her. Oh, is this what she’ll get after letting Harry and Ron go to the tower without her… a ferret tailing her. She faced him, ‘Will you leave me alone?!’ she snapped.
‘No can do,’ he answered smiling. Hermione’s eyes chinked.
‘Get lost, will you!’
‘You still have a debt you have to pay,’ he said as a matter-of-factly and lean on the brick wall.
Hermione rolled her eyeballs to him, ‘Get on with it then leave me alone.’
‘Not for a week, I think,’ he said eyeing the girl in front of him.
‘What?’ Hermione exclaimed to her oppressor, anger lurking in her face.
Oh, how he love that look from her… Draco thought wildly. ‘You will spend the week as my servant.’
Hermione’s face shifted from the angry to the helpless puppy look. Her eyes were watery with shock. ‘You can’t do that,’ she mumbled.
Oh, how he like that look, too. He had to suppress yet another urge that is to come to her and hug her tight to him… “huh, another stupid thought,” he told himself relaxing his head on the brick wall. ‘That’s my decision, Granger. If I will like your services I might hire you for the Malfoy manor. It will be such an honor for you to serve the Malfoys.’
Hermione was looking down at her shoes or that is what he thought she was doing. ‘GO TO HELL!’ she cursed.
‘No saying bad words in front of you master, Granger.’
‘I will not do anything you tell me to.’
‘Address me as master, Granger.’ He said eyeing her.
‘I don’t want to!’ she said at the top of her voice. It echoed to the whole corridor but it is empty except of them and two other shadows.
‘Master, Granger. Don’t forget,’ he said calmly.
‘What if I refuse?’
He smiled sweetly at her. ‘Tell me, Granger… that kid you had just save this morning, he’s from Gryffindor, isn’t he. He was a mudblood, too. Parents are dead. He grew up from a muggle orphanage, right?’ he asked seeing Hermione’s shocked expression. ‘How sad… and it is really tempting to make his life here at Hogwarts as miserable as his life with the muggles.’
With this, Hermione fumed. She was trembling in anger. ‘You! How could you do that to him? The youngster’s only fault is to bump in on you!’
Of course Draco know this but he is a Malfoy, he know how to use his resources properly. He stared at her then smiled sweetly.
‘You are a merciless, arrogant, stupid, mad, evil…’ Hermione raised her right hand to his left face but before she could slap him, his right hand went to her fist. Her left hand worked again but he had blocked all her supposed blows. He was ready for this, she had slapped him before and now he was ready. Hermione’s reflexes didn’t realise what was happening, one time she was slapping Draco and then she was pinned on the wall, Draco had just been leaning. Her right fist was still held tightly by his left hand, his other hand on her waist and his lips in hers…
Hermione didn’t know what to do. Her back was pinned on the wall and this bulky figure pinning her to it. To her shock he was kissing her, so sweet… slowly, she closed her eyes and let his lips linger on hers.
Oh, no more suppression of feelings this time… Draco told himself.
Their lips were locked in a sweet and soft kiss for a while then they both let go. Hermione was smiling despite her trembling body and so was Draco. He then let her do.
After a while, Draco touched a finger in his lower lip then sipped. ‘Hmpph, STRAWBERRY lip gloss,’ he said at Hermione who was still trembling. She looked at her slyly.
‘OK, consider yourself off the hook.’ He smiled at her. ‘But do wear that lip gloss. It looks good on you and tastes good, too,’ he said walking away.
‘How could he?’ Pansy asked Millicent. She couldn’t believe what she had just saw. Her Draco, her longtime crush had just kissed that mudblood… that Granger girl.
‘I don’t know but I think he likes STRAWBERRY lip gloss. I think, you should wear something like that, too.’ Millicent answered and found Pansy looking at her sternly.
‘I know I had given him that love potion earlier and I’m sure he saw me first before he saw Granger and winked at her.’ Pansy retold.
‘I don’t know about Draco, but I think… Goyle did.’ Millicent answered.
And there was Goyle walking on the clouds at that same corridor. He saw Pansy, smiled and winked at her.
‘NNOOH!’ Pansy’s cry was heard in the whole castle.
Draco Malfoy, considered in school as “Prince of Slytherin” pushed his pumpkin juice into Goyle then took a sip on Crabbe’s “Strawberry and Soda Float”. Pansy was in front of him smiling. He raised an eyebrow then smirked. ‘How would he able to get this girl out of his shoulder, she’s such a burden… and to think that he actually snugged her… what a SHAME?!
He then felt two pairs of eyes staring at him. He looked around and saw the curly haired, Hermione Granger looking at him from the Gryffindor table. He’s heart beat so fast and so sudden that he suppressed an urge to cry.
He looked back at Hermione, he smiled then winked. She immediately took her eyes off him looking disgusted and oppressed the same time. He then forced to restrain an urge to laugh then toyed with his food.
Draco was walking in Heaven all day; he even pulled off detention from two second years that were sending off Filibuster’s fireworks down the corridor in the amazement of his two security officers, Crabbe and Goyle. After a while, he snapped back into Earth when a first year bumped into him.
‘Watch where you were going, firstie!’ he snapped giving the innocent faultless kid a “I’LL GIVE YOU A PUNISHMENT YOU’LL NEVER FORGET” stare. The kid just stood there; face all white… dumbstruck… that will be your reaction when a tall brute with an HB badge and two large-bodied goons look down on you.
‘What are you staring at, you wanted detention?!’ Malfoy glared at the kid who turned violet and started to tremble.
‘Hey!’ a voice came from behind. Hermione Granger saw everything and came immediately to the aid of the kid. She had a look in her that says “TOUCH THE BOY AND YOU’RE DEAD!” ‘Look at what you’ve done to him, he is shaking all over, you evil ferret of a git!’ she snapped at Draco.
‘Watch the language, Granger!’ Crabbe stepped forward in front of Hermione but Malfoy stepped in front of him.
‘Why, you seemed kind of fond with children these days, Mudblood,’ Malfoy said while he forced himself to suppress another urge to ask Hermione to bear his children… “you’re mad, Draco…” he told himself.
Hermione stared at him…
He gulped…
‘Well, let’s make a deal, Granger.’ Draco told Hermione.
‘What deal?’ She asked sternly.
‘Since you’re rather fond of him, you will take this boy’s place in punishment.’ He proposed.
‘For bumping on you, Malfoy… you’ll gonna punish a kid?’ Hermione fumed aware of the stare that she is getting from the young boy beside her.
‘Yes, ‘cause he’s bugging me’.
‘OK… Try me…’ Hermione retorted. Draco smirked. ‘What do you have in mind?’
Draco smiled and stared at her letting it linger. Hermione stared back, expressionless. It was a battle of wills… hatred… emotions… the battle of hearts that were drumming inside each chest.
After what seemed like ages, Hermione raised her eyebrow and Draco smirked. ‘I’ll figure out something. For now, make sure that you have the best day of your life ‘cause it may be your last.’ He said and walked out smiling, Crabbe and Goyle trailing him.
Draco was smiling at himself , now he has that Granger girl in his grasps… and probably much more…
‘Hummph, I wonder…’ Draco whispered to himself. He turned to his friends. ‘Hey, I’ll just run some errand. (A/N: Running an errand? I wonder… not really Draconess, right?) Proceed to the common room without me. Password’s, POWERSURGE, if you forget.’ He said and walked away. He came to a statue of a wizard with a bald head, and waited there.
Just a minute later…
‘Hey, Granger,’ Draco called from the shadow of the bald wizard. ‘Alone Mudblood? Did famous Scarhead and the Weasel left you out. Had they figured they don’t wanna be with you anymore? You bugging them with you’re revision schedule and their head can’t take it anymore? Can’t reproach them, they’re such pea brains…’
Hermione came to a halt beside him. ‘What do you want, Malfoy?’ she said and started walking again. Draco followed her. Oh, is this what she’ll get after letting Harry and Ron go to the tower without her… a ferret tailing her. She faced him, ‘Will you leave me alone?!’ she snapped.
‘No can do,’ he answered smiling. Hermione’s eyes chinked.
‘Get lost, will you!’
‘You still have a debt you have to pay,’ he said as a matter-of-factly and lean on the brick wall.
Hermione rolled her eyeballs to him, ‘Get on with it then leave me alone.’
‘Not for a week, I think,’ he said eyeing the girl in front of him.
‘What?’ Hermione exclaimed to her oppressor, anger lurking in her face.
Oh, how he love that look from her… Draco thought wildly. ‘You will spend the week as my servant.’
Hermione’s face shifted from the angry to the helpless puppy look. Her eyes were watery with shock. ‘You can’t do that,’ she mumbled.
Oh, how he like that look, too. He had to suppress yet another urge that is to come to her and hug her tight to him… “huh, another stupid thought,” he told himself relaxing his head on the brick wall. ‘That’s my decision, Granger. If I will like your services I might hire you for the Malfoy manor. It will be such an honor for you to serve the Malfoys.’
Hermione was looking down at her shoes or that is what he thought she was doing. ‘GO TO HELL!’ she cursed.
‘No saying bad words in front of you master, Granger.’
‘I will not do anything you tell me to.’
‘Address me as master, Granger.’ He said eyeing her.
‘I don’t want to!’ she said at the top of her voice. It echoed to the whole corridor but it is empty except of them and two other shadows.
‘Master, Granger. Don’t forget,’ he said calmly.
‘What if I refuse?’
He smiled sweetly at her. ‘Tell me, Granger… that kid you had just save this morning, he’s from Gryffindor, isn’t he. He was a mudblood, too. Parents are dead. He grew up from a muggle orphanage, right?’ he asked seeing Hermione’s shocked expression. ‘How sad… and it is really tempting to make his life here at Hogwarts as miserable as his life with the muggles.’
With this, Hermione fumed. She was trembling in anger. ‘You! How could you do that to him? The youngster’s only fault is to bump in on you!’
Of course Draco know this but he is a Malfoy, he know how to use his resources properly. He stared at her then smiled sweetly.
‘You are a merciless, arrogant, stupid, mad, evil…’ Hermione raised her right hand to his left face but before she could slap him, his right hand went to her fist. Her left hand worked again but he had blocked all her supposed blows. He was ready for this, she had slapped him before and now he was ready. Hermione’s reflexes didn’t realise what was happening, one time she was slapping Draco and then she was pinned on the wall, Draco had just been leaning. Her right fist was still held tightly by his left hand, his other hand on her waist and his lips in hers…
Hermione didn’t know what to do. Her back was pinned on the wall and this bulky figure pinning her to it. To her shock he was kissing her, so sweet… slowly, she closed her eyes and let his lips linger on hers.
Oh, no more suppression of feelings this time… Draco told himself.
Their lips were locked in a sweet and soft kiss for a while then they both let go. Hermione was smiling despite her trembling body and so was Draco. He then let her do.
After a while, Draco touched a finger in his lower lip then sipped. ‘Hmpph, STRAWBERRY lip gloss,’ he said at Hermione who was still trembling. She looked at her slyly.
‘OK, consider yourself off the hook.’ He smiled at her. ‘But do wear that lip gloss. It looks good on you and tastes good, too,’ he said walking away.
‘How could he?’ Pansy asked Millicent. She couldn’t believe what she had just saw. Her Draco, her longtime crush had just kissed that mudblood… that Granger girl.
‘I don’t know but I think he likes STRAWBERRY lip gloss. I think, you should wear something like that, too.’ Millicent answered and found Pansy looking at her sternly.
‘I know I had given him that love potion earlier and I’m sure he saw me first before he saw Granger and winked at her.’ Pansy retold.
‘I don’t know about Draco, but I think… Goyle did.’ Millicent answered.
And there was Goyle walking on the clouds at that same corridor. He saw Pansy, smiled and winked at her.
‘NNOOH!’ Pansy’s cry was heard in the whole castle.
SCAPE GOAT
Run…Run…Run
or hide…
Do you still CARE???
How could you ever CARE???
Common Let’s get this over with…
Shut UP!!! you STUPID HEART
Run…run…run…
or Hide…
or hide…
Do you still CARE???
How could you ever CARE???
Common Let’s get this over with…
Shut UP!!! you STUPID HEART
Run…run…run…
or Hide…
tEa LEAF
Once they said,
On a Tea Leaf you can read,
Your destiny,
You will surely See.
I’m Afraid to look,
Afraid of what i’ll find
Afraid that you will have,
Other person in your mind.
On a Tea Leaf, on a Tea leaf
It may not be true,
It may be a lie,
Or i’ll surely Die…
On a Tea Leaf you can read,
Your destiny,
You will surely See.
I’m Afraid to look,
Afraid of what i’ll find
Afraid that you will have,
Other person in your mind.
On a Tea Leaf, on a Tea leaf
It may not be true,
It may be a lie,
Or i’ll surely Die…
DarK GaRdeN
Sitting, Thinking, Sitting
My heart is crying,
Every beat of it,
your name it shouts…
Plants on my garden,
All seem to be black,
i thought it may sometimes be green.
But soon it withered out.
When I think of you,
i hope your still Mine…
So that I’ll once see,
The flowers that bloom in my garden…
My heart is crying,
Every beat of it,
your name it shouts…
Plants on my garden,
All seem to be black,
i thought it may sometimes be green.
But soon it withered out.
When I think of you,
i hope your still Mine…
So that I’ll once see,
The flowers that bloom in my garden…
DiaRy Of A LaDy for Seven YEARS of PaSsioN…
Feb. 14, 1998
Nobody knows but then DESTINY calls,
I HOPE the WHITE ROSE tells him then…
—– no doubt that he’ll cause heartache,
for first not really meeting had already
torn me…
June 1999 - March 2000
Nobody knows what i had find,
Nobody knows who had captured my eyes,
He had no idea whatsoever,
That he’ll be in my heart possibly –forever…
The world rotated,
Time passed,
Moon and stars set and shined,
Crows crowed.
Things read,
Subjects passed,
Cartoons watched,
Thus time passed away past.
June 2000 - March 2001
Flowers bloomed,
Leaves greened,
Lotus flowered,
Trees grew strong…
Heads bulged…
Knowledge gained…
—finished—
Smiles shared…
Glances talked…
The walks that seemed shorter…
The times shared together…
The beautiful sampaguitas…
The beautiful tangerines…
SEPTEMBER 2001
tell me her name
i want to know
the way she looks
and where you go,
i need to see her face,
i need to understand
why you and I came to an end…
JUNE 2002 - MARCH 2003
don’t know what to do,
whenever you are near,
don’t know what to say,
my heart is floatin’ in tears,
when you pass by,
i could fly,
every minute, every second of the day,
i dream of you in the most special way,
you’re beside me all the time…
APRIL 2005
I’m all out of faith, that is how i feel,
I’m cold and I’m ashamed lying naked on the floor,
illusion never change into something real,
I’m wide awake and i can see the perfect sky is torn,
you’re a little late,
I’m already torn…
AUGUST 2005
tell me her name
i want to know
the way she looks and where you go,
i need to see her face, i need to understand
why you and i came to an end…
tell me again i want to hear,
who broke my faith in all this years,
who lays with you at night
when I’m here all alone,
remembering when i was your own…
-112505-
Nobody knows but then DESTINY calls,
I HOPE the WHITE ROSE tells him then…
—– no doubt that he’ll cause heartache,
for first not really meeting had already
torn me…
June 1999 - March 2000
Nobody knows what i had find,
Nobody knows who had captured my eyes,
He had no idea whatsoever,
That he’ll be in my heart possibly –forever…
The world rotated,
Time passed,
Moon and stars set and shined,
Crows crowed.
Things read,
Subjects passed,
Cartoons watched,
Thus time passed away past.
June 2000 - March 2001
Flowers bloomed,
Leaves greened,
Lotus flowered,
Trees grew strong…
Heads bulged…
Knowledge gained…
—finished—
Smiles shared…
Glances talked…
The walks that seemed shorter…
The times shared together…
The beautiful sampaguitas…
The beautiful tangerines…
SEPTEMBER 2001
tell me her name
i want to know
the way she looks
and where you go,
i need to see her face,
i need to understand
why you and I came to an end…
JUNE 2002 - MARCH 2003
don’t know what to do,
whenever you are near,
don’t know what to say,
my heart is floatin’ in tears,
when you pass by,
i could fly,
every minute, every second of the day,
i dream of you in the most special way,
you’re beside me all the time…
APRIL 2005
I’m all out of faith, that is how i feel,
I’m cold and I’m ashamed lying naked on the floor,
illusion never change into something real,
I’m wide awake and i can see the perfect sky is torn,
you’re a little late,
I’m already torn…
AUGUST 2005
tell me her name
i want to know
the way she looks and where you go,
i need to see her face, i need to understand
why you and i came to an end…
tell me again i want to hear,
who broke my faith in all this years,
who lays with you at night
when I’m here all alone,
remembering when i was your own…
-112505-
woRld of MINE (mEn)
the WORLD of thee,
cannot be seen,
by thy eyes or giant size.
swear in my sword,
and i will divulge the word;
move the curtain of the universe,
and i would showcase.
"rest, rest, perturbed spirit." —hamlet, william shakespeare—
(- if you can’t keep a secret - don’t read! -)
the blue moon is my armour,
the burning sun is my sword,
the shining stars are my crown,
their death is my mourn.
i am Hercules on my world,
Lancelot on gesture,
their love were the key,
to their fleeing glory.
i saw the wooden horse of Troy,
Palla’s Athena’s toy;
the huntress of the silver bow, Diana,
in her chariot passed my way,
and the ever persevering Atlas is just
some walks away.
lion, tiger, and lynx are nothing,
but just plain kittens,
and you said that you are afraid of them,
trust me when i say that Confucius had a point
when he said that:
"gems cannot be polished without friction,
nor men without trials."
the comets are my brush,
saturn’s ring is my paint,
the universe is my paper,
and meteors are my eraser.
i had a quill which write in its own,
together with some parchments,
it had outseated many thrones.
i am afraid of me,
ghostly creepy,
my own curse,
is hitting me out of the course.
i’m alive - not dead,
but the emptiness stayed,
in my heart,
it’s killing me bit by bit.
the Lord made me like his own flesh,
breath in me thy life,
and i can picture angels surround me,
although they seem blurred.
my world is dimmed,
sunlight running, fled,
how lonely my world is thee.
and then you think it’s a beauty?
my world is in wild,
high and blind,
it’s colors were covered
with pain and vain.
i hate to be alone,
but it is done.
ther’s nothing left,
but to uncever the thruth,
YESTERDAY, I WAS BORN,
TODAY, I WILL GROW,
TOMORROW, I WILL FLY,
TO THE PLACE I HAVE NEVER KNOWN.
cannot be seen,
by thy eyes or giant size.
swear in my sword,
and i will divulge the word;
move the curtain of the universe,
and i would showcase.
"rest, rest, perturbed spirit." —hamlet, william shakespeare—
(- if you can’t keep a secret - don’t read! -)
the blue moon is my armour,
the burning sun is my sword,
the shining stars are my crown,
their death is my mourn.
i am Hercules on my world,
Lancelot on gesture,
their love were the key,
to their fleeing glory.
i saw the wooden horse of Troy,
Palla’s Athena’s toy;
the huntress of the silver bow, Diana,
in her chariot passed my way,
and the ever persevering Atlas is just
some walks away.
lion, tiger, and lynx are nothing,
but just plain kittens,
and you said that you are afraid of them,
trust me when i say that Confucius had a point
when he said that:
"gems cannot be polished without friction,
nor men without trials."
the comets are my brush,
saturn’s ring is my paint,
the universe is my paper,
and meteors are my eraser.
i had a quill which write in its own,
together with some parchments,
it had outseated many thrones.
i am afraid of me,
ghostly creepy,
my own curse,
is hitting me out of the course.
i’m alive - not dead,
but the emptiness stayed,
in my heart,
it’s killing me bit by bit.
the Lord made me like his own flesh,
breath in me thy life,
and i can picture angels surround me,
although they seem blurred.
my world is dimmed,
sunlight running, fled,
how lonely my world is thee.
and then you think it’s a beauty?
my world is in wild,
high and blind,
it’s colors were covered
with pain and vain.
i hate to be alone,
but it is done.
ther’s nothing left,
but to uncever the thruth,
YESTERDAY, I WAS BORN,
TODAY, I WILL GROW,
TOMORROW, I WILL FLY,
TO THE PLACE I HAVE NEVER KNOWN.
mOviNg oN… faLLinG dOwn…
I had finally stood up,
finally moVed on…
beCause of him…
bUt i fElt liKe…
i aM faLLing doWn aGain…
i wiSh i wiLl be aBle to kNow,
hiS fEelings towArds mE…
i hAte fEeling conFused
eVery time i lOok at hiS smiLe.
i wiSh i wiLl be aBle to kNow,
hiS fEelings towArds mE…
i hAte fEeling drOwned
eVery time i lOok at hiS eyes.
i wiSh i wiLl be aBle to kNow,
hiS fEelings towArds mE…
i hAte fEeling diMwiTted
eVery time i fall dOwn.
finally moVed on…
beCause of him…
bUt i fElt liKe…
i aM faLLing doWn aGain…
i wiSh i wiLl be aBle to kNow,
hiS fEelings towArds mE…
i hAte fEeling conFused
eVery time i lOok at hiS smiLe.
i wiSh i wiLl be aBle to kNow,
hiS fEelings towArds mE…
i hAte fEeling drOwned
eVery time i lOok at hiS eyes.
i wiSh i wiLl be aBle to kNow,
hiS fEelings towArds mE…
i hAte fEeling diMwiTted
eVery time i fall dOwn.
In Memoriam
Everywhere were jolly faces,
Jolly faces in a sunny day,
A sunny day for a busy body,
A busy body that never thought,
Never thought that "that day will be marked."
Marked by a black cloth,
A black cloth that cover the stories,
The stories of the other sunny days, the great days,
The great days that was forever buried.
Buried under the file of muddy Earth,
The muddy Earth that will forever be the shelter,
The shelter of a body,
A body of a very dear friend."
In Memoriam of
Quezan Chua
May 11, 1987-Nov. 13, 2006
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