THE KNIFE
by Angel Grace Adem
You! You! Yes, I'm referring to you!
You wanted to know the truth or answer to your questions?
Game on!
"YOU'RE crazy!"
My reply
is:
"Hahahaha
(evil laugh) Yes, I am...I am crazy to seek babble the truth."
"You're a KILLER! MURDERER! "
"
Hmm! You are correct! (clapping of hands)
Yes, I
am a murderer and I even enjoy seeing his blood on my hands after stabbing
him on his chest with the same knife... same knife he uses to killed my
family".
It seems like everything just happened yesterday as I can still remember
every details related to it. It was my 5th birthday, July 22, 2006, we
decided to celebrate at home and invited a few people and he was one of
the "SPECIAL" guest as per my father’s description.
"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday! Happy
birthday! Happy Birthday Angel Stella Dixon!"
"We love you so much our little Angel" - my mom said.
As the
day ends, our visitors parted ways with smile on their face and leave so much
joy on me. It was most memorable moment in my life.
While secretly eating an ice cream under our kitchen table, I hear crashing
sounds near me.
Dad! (I SCREAM LOUDLY)
I saw my
dad, my most loving and caring dad covered with his owned blood whose neck
was cut off from his body. Blood burst from his neck and was all over the
floor.
And the special guest whose no other than your beloved Senate President
"Stevan Cruz" run towards me and
Terrified
with what I saw, I shout and run towards my mom who was on the living
room
"Mommy, Mommy... (sobbing) "
My mom come towards me and said
" Always remember we love you until our last breath. Run my little
Angel...run! Run now!
My mom tried to fight back with the baseball bat, but the person you think a SAINT,
stab my mother without no hesitation and killed not only my mom but also my
7th month little brother settling in my mom's womb with that the same knife.
"You can punish me now! Punch me! Hurt me!
I
encourage you to kill me instead because I am contented with the outcome of
my doing! Hahaha"
And last thing I remember was I stab my neck with the same knife and
everything went black.
|
BAD GIRL
Hey!
Everybody seems to be staring at me..
You!
You! All of you!
How
dare you to stare at me?
Why?
Is it because I’m a bad girl?
A bad
girl I am, A good for nothing teenager, a problem child?
That’s
what you call me!
I
smoke. I drink. I gamble at my young tender age.
I lie.
I cheat, and I could even kill, If I have too.
Yes,
I’m a bad girl, but where are my parents?
You!
You! You are my good parents?
My
good elder brother and sister in this society where I lied
Look…look
at me…What have you done to me?
You
have pampered and spoiled me, neglected me when I needed you most!
Entrusted
me to a yaya, whose intelligence was much lower than mine!
While
you go about your parties, your meetings and gambling session…
Thus…
I drifted away from you!
Longing
for a father’s love, yearning for a mother’s care!
As I
grew up, everything changed!
You
too have changed!
You
spent more time in your poker, majong tables, bars and night clubs.
You even
landed on the headlines of the newspaper as crooks, peddlers
and racketeers.
Now,
you call me names, accuse me of everything I do to myself?
Tell
me! How good are you?
If you
really wish to ensure my future…
Then
hurry….hurry back home! Where I await you, because I need you…
Protect
me from all evil influences that will threaten at my very
own understanding…
But if
I am bad, really bad…then, you’ve got to help me!
Help
me! Oh please…Help me!
|
FAKE
I got this smile, I skip and I play like a kid.
I'm
happy. People think i'm optimistic, talented and smart. I am religious. I
have many friends.
Do I
look like that? Do I? I hope you're convinced by this synthetic, this fake
smile of mine. Most people envy how perfect my life is. How I don't have
problems and how I seemed to be fine with everything.
But am
I?
I always smile and agree to everything request. To be fine with everything my
so called friends wanted. Do they know that all they're seeing is fake?
A mask of fake happiness and glee. That the only reason is, I cannot say no.
have they thought of my feelings? are they even my friends?
That every time I see them, I have this smile that no one ever dared to
disbelieve.
This
sense of optimism everyone envies? It's all superficial. In fact, all I think
of is sadness, despair, hate, and often I just can't go on anymore. Does
anyone know that? Once I told my mom to cut the afternoon church club
meetings, Guess what she bladed?
No God will be disappointed to you, she said.
I wanted
to reply "Well if you put it that way" or "Sure make me feel
guilty. Do I have a choice?" but all I can do is agree and pretend I
didn't ask anything.
The Saddest part is with all the masks, my disguises, my covers. . .all the
lies. . .Everyone seems to believe. No one knows how gloom, how depressed. .
.unhappy I am. No one, none of you people.
None of
you dare to doubt
I don't
know. . .I if I still know who I am beneath.
Is it
even there? I don't know.
|
THE VOICE OF AN ORPHAN
I am an orphan; my age was 16 last June.
Happy? No, I am not.
I am lonely because at the age of nine I am parent-less, penniless and even
future-less.
But they say I am beautiful. This beauty would lead me unto the galaxy of
stardom.
In the world of modeling or singing for instance. Yes, I could be a fashion
model or a singer. But I disgrace all of them because of the memories. The
past serves as desperation not inspiration. Believe it or not at the age of
eight I saw my parents murdered.
It was a beautiful day in November when we were on our way home from
harvesting rice. Smiles on our lips when we were on our way. When suddenly a
group of armed men halted us. Without any warning they drove us into a nearby
secluded place.
And while we were on our way, I could see the tears from my mother's
eyes begging the men to set us free.
Are you Macario Santiago? You are responsible for the capture of commander
Reyes so you ought to be punished.
Commander Reyes? That name is familiar to me I said. Yes. . . yes. . . he was
the hulk leader which father gave an information for his capture. No. . . no.
. . don't hurt father, he is an ideal father.
Please. . . please. . . for the love of God spare my husband. Then they tied
father into a bulky tree and started whipping him. Then father shouted as he
saw mother being hurt.
No. . . no. . . don't do that to my wife. Kill me if you want but not my
wife. I knelt down and prayed then bang. . . bang. . . bang. . .
I lifted my head and there lay before me the dead bodies of my parents. Inay.
. . itay. . . inay. . . itay. . . how could I live without you? But I placed
myself to God. I know he will not forsake me. Yes, God will not forsake me.
|
AM I TO BE BLAMED
They're chasing me, they're chasing, no they must not catch me, I have enough
money now, yes enough money for my starving mother and brothers.
Please let me go, let me go home before you imprisoned me. Very well,
Officer? Take me to your headquarters. Good Morning Captain! no captain, you
are mistaken. I was once a good, just like the rest of you here. Just like
any of your daughters. But tome was. when I was reared in slums. But we lived
honestly, we lived honestly in life. My father, mother, brother, sister and
I. But then poverty enters the portal of our home. My father become
jobless, my mother got ill. The small savings that my mother had kept for our
own expenses was spent. All for our daily needs and her medicine.
One Night, my father went out, telling us that he will comeback in a few
minutes with plenty of foods and money but that was the last time I saw him.
He went for another woman. If only I could lay my hand on his neck, I will
wring it without pain until he breaths no more. If you were in my place,
you'll do it , won't you captain?
What? You won't still believe me? Come and I'll show you a dilapidated shanty
by a railroad.
Mother, Mother I'm home, Mother? Mother?!
There captain, see my dead mother, captain!
There are tears in your eyes? now pack this stolen money and return it to the
owner. What good would it do to my mother now? She's already gone, do
you hear me? She's already gone. Am I to be blamed to the things I've done?
|
HOOKED IN DRUG
My hands, my arms, my head, my body. I am shivering. I am trembling, what is
happening. Yeah, mom's jewelry box. I need it. I must get it. yes, I need
several thousands of pesos to sustain me, to give way to my vice. Do you hear
that? I need money for cocaine, I am helpless drug dependent.
It started out with a simple invitation to experience what is new. Little
just little, once just once ... until I started yearning for it. Until I find
out I cannot stand without having it more often.
Dad is too busy with his political career, wooing people to vote for him in a
congressional seat in our province. Mom was equally occupied to grace the
local dailies for her charitable projects left and right. I was left alone
all to myself. It was only yaya who kept me company, pampering my every need.
Cars, money, good time, all I wanted. Name them, I get them. Tired with all
these I looked for more until I explored drugs with Fred, my friend. I
started to change from good reserved individual to an out-going, happy go
lucky. I became an elusive lawbreaker with dad and mom's influence.
What? Do you know if this ever made happy? No, I am not. I want peace I don't
and cannot find peace. The urge to use drug becomes so strong and
irresistible. This is the best escape I find over the emptiness and
unworthiness of my wasted, meaningless and aimless existence.
Do you understand I want to change but I cannot. All I need is to end my
life. This is truly a useless life.
Goodbye beautiful life, beautiful world. Goodbye Dad and Mom I don't deserve
you (bang,bang)
|
OUR HOUSE WILL NEVER BE A HOME
"Kring-kring,
kring-kring, kring-kring" the alarm clock ringing on my side.
Suddenly,
I heard my mother's voice "Ana, Ana wake up its already 9 am in the
morning", mother said.
"Here you are again waking me up, it’s been a week since you were here
coming back in the Philippines bagging my whole life into disaster, I wish
you weren't my Mother, 10 years of abandoning me? Then suddenly you came?
What for? Ruining my life into mess?"
Knock- knock....A sweet voice came out as the door open " Ana, Ana my
dear your late , aren't you supposed in the school by this time?"
I
remember when I was young so witty but pretty. My Mother used to play piano,
and I sing and sing as my father lift me up. I was ten years. . . . a long
darkened side of my life. I heard a Bang bang bang, a gun, Yes a gun. .
.Blag. . .as I raise my eyes I saw him lying on the floor. Red. Red. red, a
blood, Yes a blood running from my father’s lifeless body, my Father died
because of her. Yeah because of her, because of her. . .
Our
house will never be a home, it's been 5 months when I was here, hahahaha,
hahahaha. I was here because of her.
I was on
Mental Institution because of her. I found a house that can never be a home
hahahahaha, hahahaha.
Bang,
bang, bang, bang, bang countless shots coming from a gun, I raise
my head and look on the floor, I saw my mother lying on the floor
together with her fresh blood!!! Yes! Yes! I kill her. I kill my own Mother
hahahaha, hahahah. . . . .tear. . .tears. . . suddenly fell on my eyes. .
.What for? Aren't I am happy now I kill her, she kill him, I am left behind
in a house that will never be a home
|
I KILLED HER
I killed her because I do love her. These hands, these hands that gives life
to many, killed her because of my love to her.
Ladies and Gentlemen of this honorable court, please listen to me, listen to
my story before you give my verdict. I am Dr. Reyes, a cancer specialist. I
was born in a slum district of Batalon, My father oh! I don't know him for I
am a child of faith. My mother brought me up in such determination and my
ambition was to escape the filthy and horrible place of Batalon. I was
nourished with hope that someday I might live a life different from her. My
mother had burning faith that she turned the nights into days. All her
efforts were not in vain for I pushed through of flying colors. My mother who
had given her whole life to me had tears in her eyes as she pinned the gold
medal on my proud breast.
Later on, I was sent as a scholar of the Philippines to the Unites States of
America, I embraced my mother. . .tightly as I've reached the plane. .
."Mother, mother", I whispered "you will always be my best mother
in the world."
After four years, I come back with laurels. I became a cancer specialist. I
gave my mother everything but I was too late. I who had used to ease the pain
of many, came too late to the life of my dying mother. I gave the best
treatment but the grasp of death was so tight around her. My God, what is the
use of ten years of study if I couldn't even use it at my mother's pain.
Then one night, I heard a strange cry. I run to her room. "Do you love
me child?", she asked.
As I embraced her "Yes, mother. . .If only O could get all your pain and
agonies. . ."
"Then. . .If you love me, end my sufferings, kill me. . .let me
die"
"But , mother, I promise to give life and not to end it"
God . . .she did not deserve to unhappiness. She deserves to be happy.
I run to my room and come back with a syringe
"Mother, forgive me. . .God, please understand me"
"Mother,mother, you must not die. . .Don't leave, I love you. It was
only a distilled water. . . Mother. . . Mother. . . Mother. . . Mother. .
."
Ladies and Gentlemen, give me your verdict. Yes, It was only a distilled
water which ended the suffering of my mother.
Judge me. . . Punish me
So, punish me. . . Thy will be done!!!
|
BASTARD
Penoy, Balot. . .Penoy, Balot.
Yes Penoy, Balot has been my means of livelihood.
I am Martha. Please listen to my story. Like you we may be both victims of
circumstances. I was born out a wedlock to a young colegiala who swayed off
her feet when she became madly in love with a young man of the flickerville.
Bastard, bastard, that's how they called me. Society condemned me for a crime
not of my own making but just a mistake by destiny. I have never felt what a
father's love was and worst of them too much misery drove my mother out of
her sanity. I was oftentimes beaten mercilessly for every little misdeed.
One
evening I got home late. Right at the door mother was there with her long
stick. Without a word she hit me mercilessly.
"Please, mother, stop it. I beg you." I was already bleeding until
I could no longer take it. Before I knew it, I felt blood oozing on my
forehead. Crimson Blood!
"Mother, why do you do this to me."
But that didn't stop her. She got the bolo and was about to strike me that I
ran as fast as I could to save my life. All i know was a speeding car went
between us. . .SHHHHH
When I turned my back I saw Inay lay helplessly.
"Inay", all I could say. I ran back to embrace the lifeless body of
Inay.
"Good lord! Why did you permit this- You are my mother. Inay, I love you
in spite of what has been.
|
A CALL FOR MOM AND DAD
Ring...
ring... ring... is it the phone? My, it's two o'clock in the morning yet. But
wait. It is Dad. Has he just got home from the business meeting, maybe...
poor Dad! He works so hard for Mom and me.
I walked
on tiptoe to the door (another honking was heard). Oh, is it Mom? Yes and
what happens? She looks drunk, swinging her way to the sala.
All I
hope was to give them surprise but I get, instead the biggest surprise in my
life. Dad, my hero leads a Cassanova lifestyle: wine, women and party. And
Mom, the lady behind the recent fund raising campaign is the exact opposite
of the image she projected in that last week's PTA event. A cheat, a liar.
How could they do this to me? "You brute," Mom shouted, You think
you can always hide things from me? I saw you with your secretary," and
she started throwing things at Dad.
"Stop
that, Matilde." And he pushes Mom hard enough to the wall.
Is this
the home I was eagerly looking forward to return for a vacation? And Dad, is
he worth emulating? My Mom, what has gone with her? I got out from my place.
Mom, Dad
what's wrong? Benjo, good you are here. Dad managed to say. We can no longer
go on this way anymore. It's no use of hiding things from you I must confess.
I love you son, You are the only reason of my staying here. Now it is for
good. I must leave the house. Son, please understand. He went up and in an
instance he came down with his luggage. Mom seemed to be in the state of
shock. All she could do was cry.
Benjo,
my son. I can no longer hide the truth. Your Dad and I are never happy. We
have to part ways. Please, Son try to understand.
I bite
my lips to hold my tears but I held Mom by shoulders. Mom, why has this
happened to us? Have you ever thought of the effects on me? That happened a
long time ago.
I do not
know where Dad is now. It took me long to gather the prices of my broken
dreams. All I know is I am very much affected by what happened to us.
To you
fathers and mothers present in this hall now, I challenge you to step forward
to prove you are not cowards like my own Dad. I challenge you mothers to stay
firm and unwavering, never to let your family break.
|
LRT BOMBING
Bread. Bread. . .spare me a piece of bread. Believe me, I don't want to
society but fate dooms me to this deplorable situation.
We used to be a happy family. Dad was a good provider until that pitiful day
in May. All I could remember was Mom crying over the sad news of Dad's
untimely death. He died in an airplane crush and his remains was nowhere to
be found.
Mom gallantly took her responsibility as our guide and provider. Benjo, Mom
and I made up the happy family we were once.
A day before New Year, we took the LRT to evade the heavy traffic. I was in
pink dress, matched with a pink ribbon. As I mused with towering edifice on
our way to lola, a great Commotion ensued. Mom embraced me tightly to shield
me from apparent danger. Everything went fast. BOOM. . . A DESTRUCTIVE
EXPLOSION WENT OUT.
"RIZZA, take care," she said and finally loosened her hold on me.
Her look was gloomy and slowly she closed her eyes as she gave forth her
last.
"Mom." I cried out loud as I struggled to get out from the broken
seat. As I looked at the crowd, I saw everything in disorder; people in
commotion and crimson blood oozed from my Mom's forehead.
"Mom,"
I cried bitterly embracing her lifeless body. Everything went dark, darker
until I found myself in a hospital. Worst, Benjo was nowhere to be found.
What awaits a small, incapable girl like me. Nothing but the bare truth of
misfortune-darker than the hundred nights. . . uncertain than a thousand
blank reality.
Bread, bread. . . give me a piece of bread.
|
TOO HIGH A PRICE
Oh Joey, Joey, Joey, You're dead. This cannot be. Heavens! I can't believe
it. He is still too young to die. Joey, No, no. Joey is now dead, gone.
My kid brother is gone. He died of poisoning and this can happen to any of
you. Listen.
No, no never, over my dead body. you cannot sell that piece of land. That has
been the land cultivated by my father's father. That's the very means I
sweated my blood on to send you all to college. Never. That was the firm and
final say of Lolo regarding a two-hectare rice field right after the
Taiwanese factory in our small barrio. That happened some two years ago. Joey
and I were still small but we understood how much that piece of land meant to
Lolo. After his death dad in exchange for a fat sum money traded it just the
same.
Now with
this, gone are the green pastures and the rich vegetation with an equally
fresh river where fish used to swim. Gone is the vast habitat of the birds
and their young ones. Gone is the fresh air which abounds plenty.
But with Dad got a fabulous L-300, a luxurious dwelling and a big savings
account to several figures. Joey and I still miss the fruits bearing garden,
the lovely little hill of wild flowers and small fish pond where we usually
spent our time fishing. All of these gone, occupied by the Taiwanese factory
now. All left to us is a small lot given to lolo's caretaker where Joey and I
still go for a visit.
The fresh dancing water is no longer free from pollution; aquatic lives start
to die. Toxic materials coming from factory flow freely to the river,
poisoning every creature depending on it.
And worst of all, that pitiful Saturday morning, Joey my kid brother, brought
home a big mud fish. He had it cleaned and broiled it. He had just finished a
few bites when he felt unusual all over himself. He felt splash of warmth all
over his body; his face reddened as he writhed in pain. We all panicked at
the sight of a young helpless boy dying of toxic. How he cried in anguish,
and how Mom shouted in despair. But all were to no avail. Joey had to go, my
only brother had to leave, so fast, so swift.
Yet that piece of land lolo refused to sell, that piece of land is now
polluted. It brought Dad a big sum but a more precious one: joey's life was
taken. It gave us L-300 but it could not even be in service when joey needed
it most. That big sum! Never did it cross Dad's mind that such cannot even
buy Joey's life. dad paid too high a price.
Now ladies and gentlemen, is this what you call progress. . . . .
.development over our own welfare and safety? Enough is enough, you all
cheat. nothing can compensate for the clean fresh air we breathe, it is now
mixed with unsafe one coming from the chimney of that factory. Nothing can
ever replace the clean river where we used to fish, now damaged by factory
waste; nothing can ever pay the silence we are deadened by the day-in and
day-out sound of the grinding machine. . . . .Nothing and Joey paid all these
with his young life.
My friends, dear everyone, give this a thought, a serious kind:In your
decision to give us the best, we consequently suffer. In your desire to
provide us education we miss the most.
Please stop the killing. How many Joey's will pay for this?
|
THE PAINS OF GROWING UP
A child, aged three, in short pants was holding a balloon with his right hand
and ice cream cone with his left. He was running aimlessly while the father
followed. Shouting, kicking, crying boisterously. That was then, a few years
ago, but it was just faint memory. Yes, for that boy some years back was I.
Dad and I used to be great pats ceases to be now. We are at a distance from
each other. He talks, I do not listen. I explain he does not admit. . . And
this is just one phase of growing, a painful process of change.
My friends, any change is not easy at all.
"My son", I remember Dad admonished, "you get to be different.
You are a grown up child now. Don't be hard on your younger sister. Don't hit
her anymore," he said, when I once hit Alice.
A grown up I mused to myself so I can now go to Disco join friends and have
the real taste of life". But he again interrupted, "My son,
remember you are still young, a little boy".
A grown-up or a little boy. . . who am I really, an adult or a little boy?
Life is a series of surprises. What I used to enjoy when I was a kid will no
longer be the same. Eventually and gradually things will take a shift. Doing
things with Dad's assistance will slowly mean doing it on your own. Taking a
risk may mean Yes; that's ok; or no, you should learn better, next time. Less
supervision but more reprimands. . . failure of success I am starting on my
own. Discovering things, using my discretion, deciding by myself are all
parts of this painful process. I fail occasionally. I get discouraging
remarks. I learn new ways. I experiment with peer groups. These characterize
a teenage life. A bandwagon I am, I like to be equal with my members. What
they have, I must also; what they do too. And to all these Dad prones, Mom
disapproves, society condemns. . .
As I feel my way to independence in the little part of my brain, I have some
reservation. . . What? Will this ever win my old's approval?
If not them misunderstanding is possible. Human as I am go against their standards
different from mine. Inexperienced go against their standards different from
mine. Inexperienced as I am I react opposite to what they expect to me.
Uncertain as I am, I refrain to conform to what they desire. As a result we
end up hostile to each one. Disobedient, recalcitrant and stubborn, they
brand me. I feel short, misunderstood and unloved, I find solace and approval
with my peer. They understand, they accept me because we have similar
standard, we have the same world. they like me because we very well approve
each other.
I want to be on my own, my parents are not ready to accept this fact. A child
no more, an adult neither, I feel lost. We became alienated from each one.
Growing is really painful just as advancing in years for parent is so.
All I ask of you is continue holding me- I still need you. Open communication
line. Stop filling my days with 'Don't and No'. Listen to my unworded desire.
You will always be part of me. Let us both put life and love to our days as
we journey together to the mystery of life.
|
I WISH I WERE NOT BORN
I walked on tiptoed. Dad must be home now. How my
heart bleed when Mom left him for abroad. No amount of mom's explanation
could appease my anger. Why did she do this? My poor Dad! now I see every
reason why he has to come home late, why he has to drink. He must, I even
told myself. He deserves to give way to his emotions.
I walked quietly and slowly turned in the door
knob. The greatest secret unfolded before my naked eyes. I caught Dad in a
very compromising situation with our driver. My whole world shattered; my
knees trembled. Discovery even made it more shocking. Dad is a homosexual! What
is this? I shouted.
I wish I were not born. Damn you! And I ran as
fast as I could. That was many years ago.
I wanted to end my life. I was like a little
kitten with no one to turn to. Helpless and confused I started to pick up
every piece of my broken life. The father with whom I should feel secure and
protected failed me a hundred times. He did not have the arms to protect me
from harm. Instead he brought me shame and untold misery. The mother whom I
need to embrace to strengthen me and love me left. Parents, why do you fail
me? Where else can we find solace in our dark moments of despair? What have
you done?
|
THE
PANG OF MISFORTUNE
Klang. Klang. That's the signal, yes, two hours more is left. Do you hear
that? At four this afternoon I will have my rendezvous with death at the
lethal injection chamber. I pledge guilty to drug trafficking and multiple
murder. I know I deserve that ultimate capital punishment, but listen to my
story. You too have a share in forming me into a hoodlum in this dog eat dog
world.
I was a matter of fate by destiny that I grew up in an area fast a
accelerating in this orbit of moral decadence. My mom died a few days after
my birth. Lola brought me up as dad, a policeman was a footloose and
fancy-free family man.
Outcast yes, I am , a bitter pill to swallow but more bitter than this was
the pang of rejection. Dad disowned me for the reason he alone knew. Society
condemned me fo mom's indiscretion, a fault not of my own making.bb
I did not ask to be born but they gave me life just to wallow in poverty, in
shame and in anger. All around me were dark shadows of frustrations:
pre-marital sex, women of loose morale in heavy make-up, indecency, gambling,
vices of all kinds, graft, corruption. Name them and we have them all in our
place.
At first, I lived as an errand boy then as a messenger for this oldest trade
of flesh to sustain a living. I graduated to selling prohibited drugs while
sniffing once in a while to get into the world of make believe to escape
reality of life. That was how life was with one like me who has no choice but
to stay living that hard .
One night, in my usual routine I had some small packages of prohibited drugs
to deliver to my valued clients. I was intercepted by a man in uniform and
was consequently caught in the act. i could do nothing more but to face the
situation. Instead of submitting myself peacefully to the authority I managed
to grab the revolver and shot him flat dead. Once , twice, until several
policemen came to his succor. I shot aimlessly not minding anymore who might
get hurt until I no longer knew how many lives were lost.
God forgive me! But you people of the Philippine Republic who accuse me of
drug trafficking and multiple murder I also accuse you before the seat of the
Most High, God the all knowing, all wise Judge for:
- having failed me with our lawmakers who themselves are law breakers,
- having taught me life's bitterness just with your words not coupled by your
witnessing,
- having done nothing to fight moral decadence that has swept and pestered
our country now.
I know I have but few minutes to live. Before I submit myself to face the
Maker, I ask you People of the Philippine Republic to atone for passive
participation in the mess and corruption our country is faced with. Do
something to save our country, save the Philippines, save our youth. Capture
the lost values through moral recovery.
|
WHO KNEW
Who knew I'd end up admiring someone who was way out of my league? Who knew
that smile would make me blush in an instant? In a second? Who knew? I didn't
and the truth is? I'm shocked.
I'm surprised with how the world suddenly had colors and shapes and sparkles
and giggles. That voice I keep repeating in my head help me sleep.
Sometimes, it doesn't because I love the way he speaks, the way he greets,
the way he talks... everything!
Who knew I'd get turned on by the way he walks? I spotted him sitting on the
bench, the couch, the floor and, my gosh, he's so hot!
Who knew his eyes can start a fire, awaken the dead, bring light in this
world full of darkness?
I'm speaking from my heart, from my soul... because he is my heart and he is
my soul.
Who knew I'd be this in love?
Who knew?
Who knew?
|
AGONY
Agony isn't just a word. It's not just a noun. It's not just something you
check in the dictionary or something you hear about.
It involves pain.
It's suffering.
It leaves you drain.
It's hurting.
It's agony. Agony. AGONY!
Agony kills. Agony surrenders. Agony haunts. Agony. Agony. AGONY!
It demotivates you. It's a feeling. It's a weakness. It's a drug that
controls you. It lives in your dreams. It scares you and yells at you and
makes you wonder, "Do I deserve this life?"
It answers, "No. You don't. You're weak and helpless and lonely and
embarrassing."
It insults you and harasses you.
It makes you vomit.
It makes you sick.
Agony. Agony. AGONY!
It comes and goes.
It pretends to be your friend then betrays you from behind.
It smiles at you then rolls its eyes.
It's agony. It's an agony. It's THE agony. IT'S AGONY!
So agony, go away! Just go! Your presence weakens me but I want to be strong.
I want to be brave.
I don't want to kneel anymore.
I want to breathe.
I want to live.
I do not want to be in agony. I can't. I will not. I will never.
|
DRESS DILEMMA
Oh, man.
I really didn't want to wear this. I don't think I can do this. What kind of
outfit is this anyway? This isn't my style. I should've worn a loose top and
sweatpants but why this?
I hate dresses. Mom makes me wear dresses. Doesn't she know how difficult it
is for me? And what is with these shoes? They're called heels, right?
What is with this makeup? It feels heavy.
What is with this hairstyle? It's so girly.
UGH! How can one dress ruin my day? It's so short and fabulous and I hate it.
Fabulous... hmmph! I despise that word.
I grew up liking boyish things. I'm a girl, yes. I will be a woman in the
future but that doesn't give the woman who labored me any right to make me
wear such a hideous thing.
Mom thinks I will have guys go wild with my appearance. I don't want that.
Mom thinks I have a curvy body. Gosh, that's probably because I go to the
gym. DUH! Mom thinks I should comb my hair more.
Fat chance!
I hate this dress. It's uncomfortable. I can see my legs. I don't even shave
my legs. Why did I have to put lotion on my skin? It's as irritating as
putting on sunblock.
With this dress, I feel so different. I can't believe this. I'm dying and I
am too young to die!
Mother, oh mother, how could she? I love her to bits but I hate this dress!
|
THE NEW ME
This is the new me you'll never expect. This is the new me you'll never want
to see. I did everything for you. I risked everything for you. I made everything
right for you. I tried to look beautiful. I stayed up late. I spent this
much. I stepped. I rain. I fell. I crossed. I climbed. I did everything. And
it's all because of you.
I cried all night. I wasted my years. I prayed for a miracle but nothing happened.
Nothing I ever did ever made you like me. Not my messages, not my phone
calls, not my gifts nor my looks. Not my efforts, not my promises, not my
soul or my life.
So this is the new me. This is the new me you have to see. Wait until you
realize just how much you hurt me. Did you know I fought for you? I would've
killed for you. I would've died for you.
But you could never love me.
It's sickening to know that one's efforts can never be appreciated. What is
it about me you couldn't like? Am I fat? Am I short? Am I boring? Is it
because I'm boyish? Is it because I'm garrulous? Is it because I'm
knowledgeable? Is it because I don't like parties and I'm not a nightlifer?
Then what was I supposed to do? This is me! ME! I can't change who I used to be.
At least, when I found out that you could never learn to love me, I
realized... I realized... I realized...
...just how much I've missed.
I lost my friends. I pushed my family away. I became cruel. I was being
selfish.
So look at me now. I didn't change who I was. I simply exposed myself in
different activities. I became active. I learned to love myself. I don't need
you.
This is the new me.
|
BE MY TRUE FRIEND
Hey! Are you a good friend? Are you a True Friend?
A friend that will never leave me? It is you? If it is, then... Can you be my
friend?
I needed a friend like you, not like them.
They are my Friend when they need me.
I can still remember when they ignore me.
"Hey girl, can you come with me?" I ask my friend.
"Wait for us" they replied. So as what they've said. I waited, wait
for the time, but one hour has passed. They didn't come back. So I turned to
my other friend whose doing nothing.
"Hey guys, can you come with me?" I asked. "sorry, we were
busy" they replied.
I feel alone. I feel Ignored. I feel Rejected. I want to cry but I can't and
I don't want them to see me crying just because of rejection. I ran away from
them and went to the rooftop.
"BUSY? BUSY, STALKING WITH YOUR CRUSH!?"
"YOUR CRUSH DOESN'T LIKE YOU, SO STOP ASSUME"
"I WAITED! I WAITED FOR AN HOUR BUT.... BUT WHERE WERE YOU! YOU LEAVE
ME! YOU DIDN'T COMEBACK"
I shouted and I cried so hard. And after that I felt relief. I felt okay. So
I decided to go back to our classroom and the one of my friend approached me
and said
"Hey Joecel, can you come with me to the canteen. We'll buy some
snacks" by that time I want to say YES but I found myself running away
from them after realizing what they've said a while ago. And went back to the
rooftop
"When you need me, I'm always there, but when I need you, you reject me!
You ignore me!"
"Is that a real friend?"
And you! You! Are you like that? If not! Then please! Please be with me!
Be my friend. Be my True Friend!
|
PLEASE... NOT HELL
Huh? Where am I? What is this place?
Fire? Fire? A Lake of Fire? Everywhere!
Ouch! Water… I need water, please.
I hate being here, this place is so hot, I’m hurting.
Oh no! no… worms!… Stay away from me.
You damn worms!
No! Don’t eat my flesh. Stop!
Where am I? Why I’m here! I…I- don’t belong here.. Get me out of here.
Don’t you know me? I’m Cass Alanan. A superstar, A world famous model and a
President’s daughter. I’m rich, beautiful and most of all powerful. What? Am
I happy? You’re asking me if I’m happy..? Of course, I am, I have all the riches
in this world.
Riches… but not peace, not joy, not even love… But who needs that? I don’t
need that… I’m rich I can buy anything and everything I want.
My parents were always busy, they don’t love me.
My friends… well, they’re just a bunch of losers. They want me because they
can use my money and my fame. No joy, just a bunch of… Loosers and USERS!
And my boyfriend? huh! Another USER! I thought he is the only person in this
world who can love me. But, well, just last night that idiot went out with another
girl. and Guess what? I saw them… making out! You know what, he told me that
he hates me and all he wants is my body and my money! USER! Damn user!
They abandoned me. Left me with no love, no joy, no peace and no life.
On my way home, I met a Pastor – no, a crazy person in the park. He told me
about Jesus… (Laugh) “Jesus? Who is he? I don’t need him! I don’t care about
him. He is just a fiction. You don’t understand me, no one does and no one
cares. Of course, you don’t. All you need is my money. Get out of my sight!”
There’s no hell… You know what’s the real hell… my life!”
I walked out, left that Pastor and went home.
Alone and abandoned. Shuttered and Busted. Miserable and Broken.
I opened my cabinet, then I saw something… a beautiful escape, the most
magical thing in this world for hurt people like me. Then, I hear a whisper…
“One shot will finish your damn life”.
Yes right! I pinned it to my temple, then the next thing I know…
“Hell? I heard the Pastor saying about it. A place without Jesus.. Full of
fire and flesh eating worms. He said… “Jesus is the only way, the truth and
the life” But I never listened.
This is hell, It’s true.
The Lake of Fire
A place for sinners.
A place of never ending punishment…
Oh no… No! No! No!
|
JUVENILE
DELINQUENT
Am I a juvenile delinquent? I’m a teenager, I’m young, young at heart in
mind. In this position, I’m carefree, I enjoy doing nothing but to drink the
wine of pleasure.
I seldom go to school, nobody cares!. But instead you can see me roaming
around. Standing at the nearby canto (street). Or else standing beside a
jukebox stand playing the nerve tickling bugaloo. Those are the reasons, why
people, you branded me delinquent, a juvenile delinquent.
My parents ignored me, my teachers sneered at me and my friends, they
neglected me. One night I asked my mother to teach me how to appreciate the
values in life. Would you care what she told me? "Stop bothering me!
Can’t you see? I had to dress up for my mahjong session, some other time my
child". I turned to my father to console me, but, what a wonderful thing
he told me. "Child, here’s 500 bucks, get it and enjoy yourself, go and
ask your teachers that question".
And in school, I heard nothing but the echoes of the voices of my teachers
torturing me with these words. "Why waste your time in studying, you
can’t even divide 100 by 5! Go home and plant sweet potatoes".
I may have the looks of Audrey Hepburn, the calmly voice of Nathalie Cole.
But that’s not what you can see in me. Here’s a young girl who needs counsel
to enlighten her way and guidance to strengthen her life into contentment.
Honourable judge, friends and teachers…is this the girl whom you commented a
juvenile delinquent?.
|
BE BACK SOON
It has been four years since he left.
I never liked the idea. We never agreed. I tried to stop him, but it was his
dream to serve. What can I do? Nothing, nothing at all, but to surrender even
if it's hard.
"The troop decided to send me."
That's the last thing I wanted to hear. Holding back, trying to be calm, I
couldn't be silenced.
"Do you have an idea what could happen while you're there? Or, are you
even concerned about me? I can't do this without you!"
"This is a mission!"
"Is it that hard to say no?"
" I can’t let my team down! I can't let my nation down!"
"So, that's it?"
"Don't you worry; I'll be back soon. Who knows? Maybe one day, you'll
wake up and see me right beside you."
"But, What if? Or......."
"Sssshhhhh.......No, I'll be fine."
Eyes covered with tears, warm embrace, that's what I remember. The promise to
return kept me smiling since then.
"I must be ready." I told myself.
There were sleepless nights. What can I do? I just miss you...a lot. You
didn't even call! I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to hear your voice and
say, "I'm safe here." Nothing, nothing at all. The silence moving
through the air each day was my companion. I had no one.
Then one day, the messenger came, holding a letter addressed to all the
families of the troop. I wondered why. As I read between the lines, I
couldn't stop thinking about you. It says there that the mission was a
success. I was glad.
I immediately went to your home base to check you out, not knowing that my
life was about to be shattered.
"He gave it all, even his life."
Tears fell down eyes. I didn't know which way to go. Setting everything
aside, I'm so proud of you, for doing what you do best, being yourself.
With arms held high, I will be strong.
"Goodbye Col.William Borg, I'll see you soon."
|
MEMORIES
Nothing compares to having a family, a complete, happy family. I am proud to
have had one. Unforgettable memories of a sweet childhood, growing up with
pure love and affection, so many people wanted to have. I was nourished with
hope, that someday I'll have something more than I've expected.
My parents gave me everything. They wanted me to have the best of endless
possibilities. I owe my life to them. I am nothing without them. They are the
reason why I have a fighting spirit, to finish what I've started, to give my
best every time and never give up in times of troubles.
It was my time to serve them. I am young and free, but why should I push
myself to this responsibility? Why?.....because in this life, you can never
tell when your closing ceremony is about to arrive. But it was over before
I've started.
"God, why did you take them from me?"
"You're so unfair!"
"Why them?"
"Take me instead!"
They were gone. I am now alone. I can honestly say, I am nothing. I don't
have them anymore.
"God, please give me a chance to embrace them for the last time."
But I know it isn't possible. I've had a lot chances. I just didn't make the
best of it. Life is really full of surprises, not always good ones, some are
worth tears. Deep inside my heart, I am longing. But I should move on with my
life. Nothing could bring them back. If the stairway to heaven is for real, I
would use it no matter how far it would take me. If that's the only chance,
then I am ready.
I salute those parents who have given their all. The most selfless people you
would ever know. Nothing compares to the love you have given. The perfect
friends, there's nothing less.
One day, we shall meet again. Excitement fills my broken heart. Only you
could complete me. So, when I see you, I know you're holding the missing
piece.
|
ME AGAINST YOU
I can't breathe in this white uniform. It's so tight. Release me.
Well, Thank yo for your kind words. I know, right. I already
expected this. I'm not surprised.
Oh! I haven't introduced myself to some of you. For those who don't know me,
which only a few don't, I'm Genuino Ontangco,a smart young man or I should
say, a genius. Do you need someone to answer your problems? I'm the perfect
person to approach. You asked why? Because, I know everything. Give me those
equations, I'll simplify it. Give me those problems, I'll solve it. Give me
that piece, I'll correct it. Oh............ It feels good to be a genius
Sometimes I wondered, maybe if I was born a long time ago, then I would have
created all the inventions in this world. Maybe yes!
Maybe.................yes! Why can't I? I know everything, remember?
Hahahahaha
My mother calls me Gene, my nickname. She has been my inspiration, or I mean
assistant ever since. How can she be my mentor? I know a lot more than her!
My father, Oh! I don't know him. I refuse to know him. Some people told me,
he was a criminal, a thief, a man of pure evil, a product which sent him to
jail.
Some people told me, he has changed. I don't believe them. I tend to react
when they connect him to me. I can't stand it.
I hate those people who stand in my way, and does something without my
approval. Only I, know what's right.
"Mom!!!! Where's the documents in my table?" I asked.
"Oh! I thought that's a trash, I already threw it away." She
answered
"I told you never to touch anything here, you stupid moron!"
"I'm still your mother young man! You can't say that to me"
"Why can't I? I know more than you coz you're a brainless idiot!
Yes! That's true!"
Then, she slapped me in the face. I punched her hard, and laughed as she
dropped to the ground. You should have seen her face while she fought for her
life! She's dead!
Hahahaha. What a relief.
Oh! Here they are again! Stop! I can't breathe in this white uniform. It's so
tight.
Release me! I should be free.
Release me!
Release me!
Release me!
|
VENGEANCE IS NOT OURS, IT’S GOD’S
Alms, alms, alms. Spare me a piece of bread. Spare me your mercy. I am a
child so young, so thin, and so ragged. Why are you staring at me? With my
eyes I cannot see but I know that you are all staring at me. Why are you
whispering to one another? Why? Do you know my mother? Do you know my father?
Did you know me five years ago?
Yes, five years of bitterness have passed. I can still remember the vast happiness
mother and I shared with each other. We were very happy indeed.
Suddenly, five loud knocks were heard on the door and a deep silence ensued.
Did the cruel Nippon’s discover our peaceful home? Mother ran to Father’s
side pleading. “Please, Luis, hide in the cellar, there in the cellar where
they cannot find you,” I pulled my father’s arm but he did not move. It
seemed as though his feet were glued to the floor.
The door went “bang” and before us five ugly beasts came barging in. “Are you
Captain Luis Santos?” roared the ugliest of them all. “Yes,” said my father.
“You are under arrest,” said one of the beasts. They pulled father roughly
away from us. Father was not given a chance to bid us goodbye.
We followed them mile after mile. We were hungry and thirsty. We saw group of
Japanese eating. Oh, how our mouths watered seeing the delicious fruits they
were eating,
Then suddenly, we heard a voice call, “Consuelo. . . . Oscar. . . . Consuelo.
. . . Oscar. . . . Consuelo. . . . Oscar. . . .” we ran towards the direction
of the voice, but it was too late. We saw father hanging on a tree. . . .
dead. Oh, it was terrible. He had been badly beaten before he died. . . . and
I cried vengeance, vengeance, vengeance! Everything went black. The next
thing I knew I was nursing my poor invalid mother.
One day, we heard the church bell ringing “ding-dong, ding-dong!” It was a
sign for us to find a shelter in our hide-out, but I could not leave my
invalid mother, I tried to show her the way to the hide-out.
Suddenly, bombs started falling; airplanes were roaring overhead, canyons
were firing from everywhere. “Boom, boom, boom, boom!” Mother was hit. Her
legs were shattered into pieces. I took her gently in my arms and cried,
“I’ll have vengeance, vengeance!” “No, Oscar. Vengeance, it’s God’s,” said
mother.
But I cried out vengeance. I was like a pent-up volcano. “Vengeance is mine
not the Lord’s”. “No, Oscar. Vengeance is not ours, it’s God’s” these were
the words from my mother before she died.
Mother was dead and I was blind. Vengeance is not ours? To forgive is divine
but vengeance is sweeter. That was five years ago, five years. . . .
Alms, alms, alms. Spare me a piece of bread. Spare me your mercy. I am a
child so young, so thin, and so ragged. Vengeance is not ours, it’s God’s. .
. . It’s. . . . MY
REVENGE
"Never have I thought of reaching this place. All my dreams
turned to reality. I have everything that I wanted. It's great to have
everything you've worked for."
That's what they all say. All of them are hypocrites, trying to
escape the judgment of the public's eyes. But, they can't fool me. I
know how they got their positions. If only I could expose what I know.
But now is not the right time. I still have to prove something.
I used to be in that position, the greatest prize in the world.
But now, here in the dump, not even remembered, already misunderstood.
I'm just a victim of this judgmental world, never did any harm, just
misunderstood.
If you want to invest, I would be glad to see you. If you don't have anything
good to say, don't dare cross my way. That's just how it goes. The
circulation continues.
When you are rich, everybody wants to get a piece of you. All of them wants
to pull you down. being shot in the public's eyes is critical.
You can't afford to make mistakes, or else, you'll find yourself swimming in
the mud. That's what happened to me. I wasn't careful. One dash of stain blew
everything. It was hard to face the truth. I am down, troubled,
nothing.
What should I say? I should have everything back.
"Mr.Thompson, Do you remember me?"
"How could I forget the company's thief?"
"I'm just a victim of your greed. You made me do it."
"You wanted it, right? Only that you made a wrong move."
"I don't deserve this! You have to pay!"
"You can do nothing now! It's too late!"
It was all black as I remembered. The next thing that I saw was a man covered
in his own blood. Did I succeed? I think so! but no one should find out. I am
closer to what I truly deserve.
Time is up. It's my turn.. It’s…
|
WHEN REALITY STRIKES
Everything starts with a dream, a dream that can be our inspiration to
accomplish our goals. When we were children, we've always hoped that we can
serve our nation someday and be part of the progression of our country.
I've always dreamt of being someone who could make a difference, many people
doubted me and thought otherwise. As time goes by, that dream faded away.
Each day was a dreadful sight, the coward side of me that didn't dare to hold
on.
I can't do it anymore. I told myself, "Why do I have to suffer like
this? It's not fair!"
Tick....tock....tick...tock.... hearing the sound of the clock made it worst.
I had my chance, just didn't take it.
Now, reality speaks with a familiar sound.
LIFE! IS! GREAT!
"What"
"Are you serious?"
"If this is the life that was planned for me, then I wouldn't want to go
on!"
"Go ahead and end it!"
"It wouldn't even make a difference."
Then reality strikes again..... with greater force, louder than you could
imagine
You are living by choice not by chance!
"I know! That's why I'm living an awful life!"
You made it happen!
"It's what was given!"
You were given all those years, and this is all you could come up with? Come
on!
"I'm hopeless!"
"I'm weak!"
"Are you supposed to rub it in?"
"I get it!"
Reality ended the battle
It's not the end of the world! Time doesn't stop when you fall. That's why
the sky is high. It's something to reach for.
A cold breeze suddenly surrounded me
The view seemed to change!
"Now, I get it!"
So live your life
Be yourself
And see the difference
|
BEFORE IT'S OVER
A wide smile painted her blank canvass as she expressed her excitement to
face the next chapter.
"I'm happy."
"I definitely am."
"Don't think of me."
"You might get in trouble"
In a world where you stand out against the others, that's where I belong.
To fight for a place where freedom is limited, that's what I've done.
To be accepted for what you've suffered, that's what I've experienced
To feel that you're in, there's nothing better.
She's my friend, the best that I have.
Seeing her go through the deafening silence while blind-folded, made me feel
uneasy inside.
The will to help easily diminished as I remembered my recent acceptance to
the society.
Only those on the top of the chain can tell you what to do.
As hard as it seems, there's no other option.
It's hard to see her getting trashed, but there's nothing that I can do.
Tears fell on her burning eyes as she tried to stand.
It was not a good scene.
She's beaten, real bad.
She's a fighter.
She'll recover.
"No one, and I said no one, can talk to a feed, or they'll suffer"
"If there's anyone who'd challenge my judgment, stand up and face
me!"
With a burning desire to do what is right, I stood up!
At least that's what I thought.
But, I didn't.
I can't! I just can't!
As I continue to let myself believe that everything's fine, I can't help but
think of how she's doing.
Her voice was trembling as she tried to tell me that she's ok.
"I'll be ok", she whispered
Do we really have to do this to be accepted?
Does it take blood and tears for us to belong?
I know that I did it before, but do we have to let everyone suffer?
I don't think it's right anymore.
With a burning desire to change what was written, I stood up.
Now, I did.
But it's over, she's gone.
She was a fighter, and I was a coward.
I could have, but i didn't.
I just didn't
|
DESIRED FREEDOM
Mando
Psst.....
Come here! Yes, you! I want you. Don't be scared, it's just you and me now.
Besides, you're already paid.
It's 4am, and I'm walking pass the blinking lights of shattered freedom,
trying to figure out my worth.
With eyes wide open, I can't seem to think.
As I approach the sanctuary of guilt, my body just turned ice cold.
Psst.....
It's that sound again. Please make it stop!
For the past 2 years that I've been doing this, nothing seems to make sense.
That musky scent that makes me shiver, suddenly covered the air.
I'm done for the day.
Looking back on the days when my soul was pure, I can't help but smile.
I still remember the sweet memories of my younger days, when all that I have
is free.
Oh, those were the days.
I guess the truth is, I can no longer go back.
But, did I really have that liberty?
I guess I did, cause it still hurts.
Psst....
It's 4am, and I'm still here, trying to stop what I can't.
I'm paid, yes I am.
This would suddenly end.
I'll just close my eyes until it's over.
At last, it is.
As I brush off the stains of a filthy life that doesn't seem to get better,
it just gets worse.
Sitting here with drops of water over my head, a series of unfortunate event
flashed.
Starting to realize the mistakes that I've made, I closed my eyes.
It just gets worse. It really does.
And you're telling me that it's my fault?
How could you blame the judgment of an innocent soul who's only wish is to
love and be loved?
Do you think it's easy to go through the day thinking that your soul is
burning in every second?
You don't know who I am, and what I've been through.
So, don't say a word.
If only guidance was present in my past, it would've been different.
If only lessons were learned before mistakes were made, this wouldn't be me.
I guess, I just have to deal with it.
Choice is nowhere to be found.
Psst....
It's 4am, and I'm home, a totally different view.
I was just called. I guess I should go.
It's 4am, and I'm here again.
Psst....
It's that sound again.
|
DEEP
Mando
It's like this, everyday.
Nothing has changed.
I wake up, surprised, knowing that I'm still alive, thinking that it's
already over, only to find out that it's not.
Heavy breathing followed the overwhelming reality that your body is moving,
you're still thinking, and your eyes can still see all the things that you
wish you didn't see.
It's not yet over.
The game is still ongoing
And I'm just here waiting, waiting for the last signal to erupt, waiting for
a confirmation that it's all done.
But I guess it's different.
The rules have changed.
Now, you have to pretend that you're fine, even if your mind is exploding
with negativity that seems heavier than a boulder.
You have to smile even though the heart can't seem to find a justifiable
reason to move the muscle on your lips.
You have to make them believe that you're not struggling with the reality of
life.
You have to be fine.
That's the hardest part.
I'm not ok
I want to be ok, but I'm not.
Help me.
Please
I smile, laugh, cry, like a normal person do, but underneath the normal face
that you see, is another figure that's shouting for help, and waiting to be
felt.
It's covered by despair and anger, by guilt and pressure, by expectation and
failure, by insanity and reality.
It's all beneath the jokes that I throw, the laughter that you hear, and the
usual Hi and Hello
It's deeper than you think.
It's a feeling that nothing is right
It's a feeling that doesn't make any sense
It's a feeling that even if you try to overcome, you will still fall short
It's a feeling that after all of this, the darkness will still prevail
It's an overwhelming feeling
It's a feeling that I wish I haven't felt.
It's complicated
This day may be the last, and I still don't know.
I might be thinking of ways to end it, and you wouldn't know
It's a feeling I wish you knew.
It's a feeling that's never new
I'm not ok
I want to be ok, but I'm still not.
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Conscience
I wept, I cried so hard. But this tears can’t bring back my sister to life.
My being brought here by my conscience. I want to ask forgiveness. But can
she still hear? O heart, forgive me for what I have done, please bring peace
to mind.
Dry leaves were crushed down below. As if to freshen my memories that her
life perished because of my selfishness.
She was my only sister. Since our childhood, I always believed that I was the
favorite of our dad. One night, while I was facing all about to the mirror,
with my micro mini, I puffed powder, when I saw Luisa’s face, reflecting in
the mirror. "You can’t get out tonight, Lucille." I heard a
threatening tone from her. I turned to her, but I can’t resist at her sharp
stare at me. "And who says so, my dear sister?"
"We are to celebrate Momma’s death anniversary; you know that don’t
you?"
In a relaxed and condescending voice, I replied "well I don’t care. I’m
going out to party tonight!"
Then I heard a knock on the door. I shouted "Help Papa!" for I knew
that it was he. I pulled my hair, I tore my dress away as I was attacked by a
squad of monstrous creatures. When the door opened the site Papa saw was that
Luisa was holding my neck who was trying to make a rescue. But I cried so
hard that made Papa grew to the height of anger. He threw Luisa to the
corner, where the head of my poor sister was hit at the edge of the chair.
I slowly rejoiced for I have made a successful revenge. But when she lifted,
I saw a different sparkle in her tearful eyes. "Ha ha ha ha ha!" O
my, Luisa, she went out of her mind. I was not able to move, as well as Papa.
Both of us were motionless. And before we returned to our senses, Luisa ran
to the door and proceeded to the open gate of our house. We followed her
calling out her name.
"Luisa!" "Sister!" "Luisa" "Sister" "Luisa
the Truck!" "Don’t cross the road, Luisa, the truck don’t Don’t
DON’T!"
The next sight I saw was that Luisa was thrown five meters away from the
truck. I ran to her and embraced her. Blood was all over her face. In a low
but distinct voice she murmured, that made my heart break so much.
She said, "Lucille, please be a good girl. I love you. Please be a good
girl ‘coz Papa loves you very much."
"Luisa? Luisa? Sister… sister!!!"
From that moment I cried so hard for killing my only sister, who loved and
cared for me, even at the last moment of her life.
Now can you blame me, for asking God to forgive me? Forgive me dear God,
Forgive me!
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