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Teacher Vics’ Memorial Service

On the afternoon of March 20th, 2018 in Quezon City, the community of Cornerstone Academy of Quezon City grieved for the loss of their beloved Filipino teacher, Victoria “Vics” Pabilar Samon.

When I first entered the large room at the Cornerstone Community Baptist Church, most of the seats were already taken, but luckily, there were a few ones left unoccupied. I entered the place with one of my friends from Grade 11 along with her past classmates. The service started with a long portion of praise and worship conducted by the Grade 9 and 10 students, who all did an exceptional job.

Opening remarks were then given by the school principal. The senior high school students then followed with two of their students giving a short eulogy each. What truly struck me is how one teacher could impact a student’s life so greatly. One of the students, Hannah Viyo, shared her personal experience with the teacher, even shedding a few tears in the process. They then followed with a special number performing “Good, Good Father,” which captured the hearts of many.

The next portion that came was the service proper. A fellow teacher of Miss Vics read the Scripture coming from Psalm 116, which ever-so fitted the event properly. The chapter in Psalms talked about being delivered from death, and blessing those who are simple. The message was then given by the School Pastor, Jones Cumpio. His message revolved around death and salvation. “How fitting,” I thought.

A few other significant people each gave their testimony as to how the teacher influenced them in their lives. I specifically remember that speech made by one of her best friends (as I learned from one of my classmates). The best friend was actually one of my subject teachers, Ms. Faith Toledo. She told the story of how a beautiful, unexpected friendship came to be. She told tales of how students truly were grateful for having an opportunity to meet her, because she was not only a teacher to them, but also a friend.

At that point, I felt a gush of regret that I hadn’t enrolled in Cornerstone Academy earlier. Miss Vics sounded like a beautiful person, and I’m sure she was. I had never seen so much people so achingly filled with melancholy over someone’s death. I’ve been to a good number of memorial services, but this one definitely struck my heart.

The next eulogy that truly caught my heart was her husband’s. From his kind aura, his careful words, and his noble appearance, I could assume what a humble family Miss Victoria could have designed. Her husband spoke of his gratefulness to all those who helped, or even were just willing to help, his wife at her time of need. I found it to be positively unusual, that he thought of those things at a time like this.

Coming from a Catholic background, most speeches I’ve witnessed were not like this. Despite being a mere stranger to the family, it was overwhelming how I could actually empathize with them. I had wished that there was something more that we, the students, could have done to help. As he gave his speech, I, as another member of the audience, looked around only to notice that it wasn’t only I that had my heart captured by his humble articulation, but the entire audience as well.

The service lasted longer than everyonce expected, but most of us didn’t mind. We knew we were there for a reason: to commemorate the precious life that Teacher Vics shared with the school. By 9:00 PM, one could tell that most of the attendees, especially those who were from the lower levels, with the exception of a few senior high school students and other guests, were already hungry. Some were even already holding a barbeque towards the latter part of the service. Despite their hunger, most of them were, however, somewhat still listening to the speeches.

When the service ended, the long line for the food table didn’t go unnoticed. Almost everyone was up from their seats, ready to grab a plate and feast their hearts out. Some, however, decided to go home right away, and some also decided to just mingle. There were quite a lot of former students and former graduates that attended the service, so they found this to be an opportunity to catch up with friends. I, being a new student, was introduced to some of them, and even found a few who later on helped me with my research paper as respondents.

From this heartwarming experience, and out of so many things that struck me, what I would deem to be the most important realization was how loving the community of Cornerstone Academy was. Since I came from a Catholic school where more than half of the said “Catholic” population were agnostic or merely not practicing their religion, it was unique to see a community of students, teachers, and even parents, coming together to commemorate the life of someone that truly impacted the community.

I learned that Teacher Vics was not the most outstanding teacher, even stated by her best friend, and she was not very extraordinary in appearance as well. She was simple, and she probably never even imagined that her death would cause such an impact on the school community. But even I, someone who never knew her, was able to sympathize with the audience, and learn something great from the legacy that she left behind.

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Eva

Eva woke up once again, to the crooked wooden ceiling of the house her family has lived in since forever. She got up from her metal-framed bed whose paint has chipped off almost entirely. She felt her back ache as she lifted herself from the thin, mushed mattress she laid on. She stretched, hoping to get rid of the pain. She has been living like this her entire life. It was a dreadful, uncomfortable life brought about by her parents’ decision to divorce, leaving her in the care of her mother, who had no stable job, and merely relied on her husband, Eva, and her siblings’ step father.

Eva went to the kitchen where she found her older sister, Ilse, already up, heating some water and cooking eggs for herself and her 2 siblings. Their mother was still in the bedroom, sleeping with her husband who was their stepfather. She helped prepare breakfast by setting the table. Meanwhile, the youngest among all of them busied herself by sweeping the leaves that fell in front of their house.

While she was preparing, Eva dropped a glass which then awakened their stepfather. He exited their bedroom door, and the three siblings took note of the sound of his footsteps. Eva rushed to pick up the shards of glass left on the floor. “Was zur Hölle war das! Who is the clumsy b***h that broke a f*****g glass in the f*****g morning?” he shouted. He arrived at the kitchen and found the 17-year-old Eva picking up glass. And just like his response to everything that did not conform to what he wanted, he resorted to violence.

The teenager swore that the moment she graduated from high school, she’d find a job far away from her family and earn enough to take her younger sibling with her.

So, two months after graduation, Eva became a step closer to her dream as she landed a job at a Nazi studio owned by Heinrich Hoffman, but not far from where her family lived. Eva was always into photography, so landing this job was a big deal for her. It was a prestigious job, getting to work for such a renowned photographer. Hoffman was known to have rich and famous clients. Her task at the studio was simple; she was assigned as Hoffman’s assistant, but at the same time his apprentice. She worked hard, and got paid good money for the job. And because Eva was a fairly beautiful blonde with a great figure as well, she was also called by Hoffman to model sometimes.

One day at work, Eva was by one of the tables fixing the equipments when a well-groomed older man walked in the studio. He wore a well-fitted suit that just screamed politics, and his hair was cut in a very clean, particular way. His defining facial feature was his moustache, which was trimmed right at the ends of his nostrils. His shoes were shiny, and his pants ended right below his ankles. He spoke to Hoffman, and as he did, his deep, strong voice caught the attention of Eva. She knew that this unfamiliar man was going to be a major client, so she quickly fixed herself.

Heinrich, out of the blue, called Eva and asked her to pose for the camera. He took shots of Eva as the unusual man watched the young lady pose. After a few more shots, Heinrich invited the man to his office where they discussed a deal. Eva could hear their mumbles and a bit of laughter as she stayed near the door. Half an hour after, the two men walked out of the office and happily shook each other’s hands. The unusual man glanced a few times at Eva as he and Heinrich lightly conversed.

Later that evening, she asked Hoffman who the man was, and what had happened in his office. “Dieser mann, which I’m surprised you’re not familiar with, is herr Adolf Hitler, our newest client. What happened inside my office is none of your business anymore, Eva, but know that he is paying us a good amount, and it should be for a good reason,” Heinrich told her as she nodded.

An hour had passed when Heinrich left the studio, leaving the responsibility of locking the studio to Eva’s hands, as he usually did. Later on, Eva snooped around Hoffman’s office and looked for papers that could have been related to what Hoffman and Hitler discussed. In one of his locked drawers, of which Eva found the key in one of the coats left behind, was a contract signed by both parties that discussed the agreement. Heinrich was to be Hitler’s personal photographer, being paid a lot of money. This interested Eva a lot. The next lines of the contract discussed the guidelines, of which one caught Eva’s attention. She was to be the only third party to provide any assistance to Hoffman whenever he was to provide Hitler with any form of service, as per Hitler’s request. Eva was surprised. It puzzled her immensely as to why the unusual man would entrust such a responsibility to her.

After a few days had passed, Mr. Hitler gave the studio another visit. Heinrich accommodated him, and brought him to the shooting area. Adolf posed in front of the camera with various hand gestures. One, raising his fist in the air, and another, pointing to what seemed like an imaginary audience. They were unusual, but they portrayed strong character.

Heinrich called on Eva to help with the equipment. She adjusted the lights so it hit Adolf’s face perfectly. She stayed on the side and watched them, but more particularly, Adolf. She observed his every move, the way his body changed poses, the way each strike of pose was so strong and revealed his true identity. At one point, Heinrich asked Eva to take the portraits in order to train her. She took some photos, but glanced away from the camera every now and then to look at the real picture.

“Okay, danke, Eva. Danke, Heinrich. That’s enough for today. Would you mind showing me the photos, Heinrich?”

“Eva, du gehst das machen. You can have Eva to do that, would you mind?” Hoffman told him.

“Mitnichten. Shall we?” Adolf said inviting the young lady to sit down with him.

“Bitte warte eine Weile. I have to develop these photographs first,” Eva replied.

Eva went into the dark room, and started the process of developing photos. As she reached the final step, she looked at the photographs and analyzed each one. She then lets them dry before leaving the room. She sat with Adolf for the meanwhile as she waited for the photographs to fully dry.

They sparked up a small conversation where she learned that Adolf is a politician, known for being a member of the Deutsche Arbeiterpartei, the German Worker’s Party for many years. Eva seemed to be interested in this rich, older man as more than just his photographer’s assistant. She found this man to be highly unusual, gaining more interest in him. He talked and acted in a very particular way. He liked things done fast, and in the most orderly manner. She went back into the dark room to retrieve the photographs and showed them to Adolf.

She asked him, “Herr, ist es in Ordnung zu fragen? What are these pictures for?”

“Das Ansehen. Reputation, dear Eva. These are my practice pictures so I know which poses I can use when I deliver my speeches. Have you ever watched one of my speeches?”

“No, Herr,” she replied. He proceeded to perform an excerpt from one of his speeches, exercising some of the poses in the picture.

“Wie schade, dann. I shall inform you of my next speech, so that you may be able to have the opportunity to watch at least one. I believe I am destined for something great, and the speeches I create are a pathway for that.”

She liked this man, definitely. There was something about his aura, or maybe it was his stature that Eva found extremely attractive.

The next few visits of Adolf to the Hoffman Studio was a whirlwind of Eva being all over the place, and trying all means to catch Adolf’s attention. She goes into the bathroom minutes before Adolf arrives and stuffs her bra with tissue paper in an attempt to seduce the man. She sparked up conversations every time she’d get the chance to. She loved getting to know him, and with each time they conversed, Eva became more interested. Adolf was somewhat smitten with her too. He’d glance at her from time to time, and one can tell that he was definitely looking at her body, and he was definitely attracted to her as well. However, how could a renowned 40-year-old politician take the fresh high school graduate teenager seriously? He thought nothing more of their relationship than a simple flirtation in Eva’s workspace.

One day, Adolf’s beloved half-niece, Geli, commits suicide. Geli had been living with Adolf for numerous years, and had a very complicated relationship with each other. It was sexual, but the romantic aspect of their relationship was unclear to everyone. Nevertheless, it was evident that they loved each other dearly. He even took Geli to Hoffman’s studio on numerous occasions. One can only imagine how distraught Adolf felt upon learning that the 23-year-old decided to steal his gun and shoot herself in the chest in Hitler’s bedroom. The agony he felt upon discovering her corpse was indescribable.

This brought total anguish upon Hitler, and having Eva around helped him cope with the hurt he felt a lot. Eva was open to comfort Adolf, and he confided in her. He finally began to see more of the teenager. Not long after, they started dating.

However, Adolf made it clear to Eva that the public should not be able to know about their relationship. He wanted to maintain his strong image. He believed that if people found out he was in a relationship, the people would see him as weak, and that love might get in the way of his profession. It was important that he was seen as a figure of strength and power, especially now that Germany was destroyed when the American Stock Exchange has failed, causing America to call in all its foreign loans. The unemployment rate was growing higher and higher, and the government was desperate for an immediate solution.

Because of this, Adolf became busier, working his way up in the German Worker’s Party, which was now known as the Nazi Party. However, he did not fully neglect Eva. In fact, she came along as Adolf went from place to place. She stayed beside Heinrich, as another personal photographer of Adolf, keeping the secrecy of their relationship.

A few years after, the Nazi party grew and became the largest party. The president of Germany deemed that the Nazi party was becoming uncontrollably huge, so he devised a plan with the Chancellor of Germany, Franz von Papen. They wanted to get the Nazis on their side so they offered Adolf the position of Vice Chancellor. However, Adolf refused and demanded them to make him Chancellor instead, which they agreed to.

While Adolf was working to gain more power in the government offices, Eva stayed alone in the bedroom of the small apartment that she had just began sharing with her younger sister. She’d come home to spend the rest of her day without him. She craved his love. They never got to spend as much time as they did before at the studio. More so, whenever they’d be around each other, she was nothing more than his photographer. It killed her inside that she’d be right in front of him, taking his pictures, but she was not even allowed to talk to the one whom she loved dearly. Eva, just like any other woman who’d be treated the same way, fell into depression. She became desperate for him.

She sat at the end of her bed. She stared at her reflection from the mirror of her vanity. She stared as she thought to herself, was she not enough anymore? Has she grown out of her beauty at age 21? Was she not worth coming home to anymore? What made him unexcited for her? What was she lacking?

She drowned in these thoughts as her right hand grabbed the gun that she stole from Adolf’s collection. “I just wanted him,” she whispered as the uncontrollable force of her finger pulled on the trigger of the gun that was aimed at her neck. She was immediately found by her sister and rushed to the hospital. It was there when her sister found out that she had missed the artery, and therefore, survived. She wept for her sister’s life, and asked her upon waking up why she’d committed such an act.

“Liebe. All I ever wanted was his love, and he has denied me of it,” she told her sister, pertaining to her lover, Adolf.

Later on, the negligent and ever so busy chancellor of Germany received a call, telling him that Eva had attempted suicide as an appeal to get Adolf to show him the love they once had. Of course, he tried his best to keep her happy – providing very well for the young girl so that, at least materially, she was well off. Of course, this wasn’t enough for her, but she lived with it for the meantime, as long as she could take it.

A year later Hitler negotiated that they give him temporary emergency powers for four years. During the negotiation, he tasked his military supporters to threaten them with war, should they refuse. His strategy worked, giving him absolute power over Germany. This was what he had always wanted, but not for Eva.

Of course Eva was happy for him, she was as supportive as any loving partner would be. However, during his rise to power, he slowly lost even more time for his lover, eventually depriving Eva more of the attention she always wanted from him. As a result, she poisoned herself in another desperate attempt to catch his attention.

Even if Adolf treated her poorly around others, and that his love for her was intermittent, there was love. And what came with that love was the feeling that Adolf did not want to lose her. After her second attempt, Adolf could not help it anymore. He was devastated and never more determined to ensure that Eva stays alive. He could never handle another suicide death by someone close to him after Geli. When he visited Eva in the hospital, he swore to her that he would never let this happen again. He offered for her to live with him at the Berghof, so he’d always come home to her at the end of the day. To stay even closer to her, he hired Eva as his personal secretary.

Everything was going well for the couple behind closed doors, but once they opened, and guests arrived, it was a different story. To keep the secrecy, he treated Eva very poorly. In the beginning, Eva was not allowed to exit her room everytime there would be guests over. But after a while, he finally let her join, which might not have been better after all. He’d talk to her in front of his friends, but in a way that was very degrading. It was as if she was just a mistress, another one of his toys. She bore it all, because she firmly believed that he was only doing this to protect her. No woman would have allowed such treatment, and Eva should be considered a martyr for that. A martyr.. for the wrong reasons, for the wrong person.

It was under Adolf’s administration that World War II began, it was then when millions of innocent Jews were murdered. Eva, just like the other Nazis, adapted to how he ran the country. It was fear and the desire for power that had taken over most of the other Nazis and Germans, but for Eva, perhaps it could have been something else. Perhaps it was love, or maybe something more than that. She was happy seeing him happy, and that was all she ever wanted. She worshipped him, allowing her life to revolve around one man.

One can only wonder what it must feel like to have a murderer come home to your house everyday and sleep in the same bed with him. Eva had a strong personality. She knew what she wanted, and she got it all. But it wasn’t going to last long. The man she hopelessly devoted her life to, had sins to pay. The Nazis were losing the war, their time for freedom was counted by the days, and soon, hours. Adolf felt great pain, and Eva, fear.

Adolf was to travel in the Fuhrerbunker to Berlin, where he was about to meet his self-inflicted death. As he was saying his farewell to his ever-loyal lover, she asked only two things from him. “Adolf, meine Liebe, mein Leben, I don’t know how long we have until imprisonment, but I want to swear my life to you, formally, for better or for worse,” she said.

“Eva, Ist das, was ich denke, es ist? Are you asking me to get married?”

“Meine Liebe, we don’t even know if they’re going to kill you once they get their hands on you, or me. For once in my life, before anything happens, let me be called Eva Hitler, so that all those who know me may remember that I eternally belong to you. Because of our time constraint, you should also let me travel with you, and we can proceed with the ceremony in the Fuhrerbunker.”

Within the next few hours, the two travel to the Fuhrerbunker, where they are married by a local official. “I, Adolf Hitler take Eva Braun to be my wife. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, and I promise my love to you. With this ring I thee wed,” he proclaims as he gives her a simple ring that once belonged to his mother.

“I, Eva Braun take Adolf Hitler to be my wife. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, and I promise my love to you. With this ring I thee wed,” she said as she gave him a ring that once belonged to his father. In that very moment was the epitome of her happiness. At least now she could say, she was his forever.

A marriage contract is presented to them, and they were both asked to sign it. On Eva’s turn she writes her first name “Eva” followed with a “B,” which she erased with scribbles on the paper and replaced with “Hitler.” Eva Hitler was her new name, the name she’d been dreaming of for years.

But it didn’t end here. An hour went by, and just as Adolf was preparing his last will and testament, she got up to him and told him, “Kann ich dir zuerst etwas sagen? If it matters to you, you’re going to be a father, but I guess not anymore.”

“Eva,” he said with a shocked face. “Eva,” he mumbled once more. “Eva, sag mir die Wahrheit. This is not the time. Why did you not tell me sooner? I would have set another plan for us to live as a family in peace in another country if you did.”

Adolf felt empathy for their unborn child. He has killed millions of Jews but somehow, it was only this one life that mattered to him at that moment.

“Will you live for your child?” she asked.

“But the child will have a miserable life, even if I’m around, because I would be incapable to attend to him,” he replied.

“Having a father who cares for his child, even if not present at all times, is a million times better than a father who neglected his child even before he was born,” she told him with the heaviest heart.

Because of this, Adolf decided that he’d live for his flesh and blood, but little did he know that there was none of that. ‘Twas merely a lie told by his lover, who thought that she could not live without him. Because he would not live for her, she thought that maybe he’d live for their child, at least. Adolf was selective for whom he cared for. It was almost as if he would either not have any regard for your life at all, or he would treasure you dearly, which was the side that Eva and her imaginary child were lucky to be on.

The troops were closing in on the Fuhrerbunker. Adolf decided to open its doors and surrender willingly. Two soldiers grab him, and others remain surrounding him. Another one grabs Eva and all the other accomplices found within the bunker.

Allied officials, even though their utter hatred for the man who killed millions of Jews gave them the urge to kill and even torture the man, decided that it was best for Hitler to be kept away in maximum security, because killing him and torturing him would not have made them any better than him. There were human rights laws they had to abide by. Though he had accomplished violating those for millions of people, the Allied forces could not bear to be judged as immoral, especially when there were other countries to consider.

They locked him up in Ognenny Ostrov, a maximum security prison in the Soviet Union. Meanwhile, Eva, though can be considered an accomplice to his crimes, was set free, for not really having any major participation. However, she was not given permission to visit him, given that it was a maximum security prison on an secluded island after all. She managed to bribe one of the guards stationed at the boarding dock going to Ognenny Ostrov, however, and convinced him to hand Adolf a letter that she wrote as her last farewell to him, given that he was sentenced to life imprisonment.

In the letter, she wrote about how much he meant to her. “You were my first love, Adolf, and my only one, til death do us part,” the letter read. “You will forever remain in my heart and I hope I, in yours. Live without worry, my love, for I will ensure the safety of our child until the day they grant you freedom.”

She took a train back to Germany and went to her small apartment in Munich, where she poured a glass of wine and pondered on her thoughts. It was hopeless for her to ever see her lover again. A life without him was a life not worth living. She took the glass and indulged in the cyanide-induced wine. In less than an hour, she died. She died with the lie fed to her husband that they had an unborn child.

Adolf is left to live a life of imprisonment, where he was bound to submit to all authorities, of which he was not used to. Oh, how the tables have turned. It had only been a month since he was imprisoned, but the environment was one he could never tolerate. He received the letter from Eva, and although he kept her words to heart, his egoistic, prideful nature soon could not bear what he had to go through every day. It was that same nature of his that pushed him down the edge of the 20-foot watchtower that sat right at the edge of the cliff of Ognenny Ostrov.

At last, the two lovers were inseparable somewhere in the cold, bitter afterlife that awaited them. What could be so different though, anyway?

[celestial-writespace]

Love?

I first fell in love when I was 15 years old. Or so I thought it was love. 

I remember being in 10th grade. I was just the typical, outgoing, kind of nerdy but extroverted, average-looking girl who was sort of desperate for acceptance. I hung out with my friends a lot, watching band gigs and horror movies at someone’s house every once in a while. I was content with that kind of life because that was all that I and my friends had ever known. Dating and crushes were never in the picture. After all, I attended an all-girls exclusive school. Who was there to crush on, right? However, as a tradition in our school, we were required to have an interaction activity with an all-boys school. During the activity, we met the boys from one of the classes of Lourdes School of Mandaluyong. I didn’t have much male friends at that time, so I definitely looked forward to that event, hoping I’d make some friends or, you know, maybe finally have a crush on someone. That sounded interesting. Sadly, when that day came, and I didn’t really bond with any of them strongly. They were… ok. Not the ok with –ay as in okay, or the ok in all caps as in OK, but just ok. Definitely, my expectations were let down. Nonetheless, my friends seemed to be fond of the boys. They all had their own male besties, and soon, some of them developed a romantic relationship. No doubt, I felt left out BIG TIME. They would have conversations about boys, and I just couldn’t relate. I tried so hard to be friends with some of their friends, too. But you could say that I was a clueless pigeon when it comes to interaction with the opposite sex. I was really awkward. Not a real-life conversation with one of those boys came by without me causing a dead awkward silence, which caused them to pay more attention to my friends instead of me. Still, I needed that sense of belonging. Summer came, with no luck in gaining any new friends. The only thing I ever looked forward to was church. Every Saturday I went to Youth Service, where an announcement caught my attention. “Youth Camp 2016: PASSION. Registrations are now open,” it read. I decided not to make any remarks about it to my dad first, since I knew it was going to be announced the next day anyway at Sunday service. So, the next day, the announcement came on, and my dad encouraged me to join, as well as my 25-year-old sister. As the announcement came on, I looked around at each family that attended the service, looking for anyone in each family that I could invite to youth camp. Also, maybe I could make some friends, right? So, there I was, looking around. This one guy then catches my attention, like he did every week. We’re not friends, nor have we EVER talked, but I knew his name was Marc because I guess you could say that I’ve been asking around. On that day, he wore a school shirt and some dark blue shorts with his classic all-white Nike. His shirt read “LSGH Airforce,” and it was then when I found out he was a dancer. He was so cool. I wish I could be a dancer, too. This sparked up my interest in him. I always thought that he was the type of guy I’d probably get along with, but no. I knew how awkward I was around boys and I couldn’t afford to embarrass myself in front of him, and for that reason, I decided to just let it pass. The day of the camp came. You’d think this was where all the flirting started. Well, it did, but not for me and Marc. You see, I attended camp with my sister, my beautiful sister. She didn’t really attend church before this, so it wasn’t long before she was the center of attention for everyone. “Uy, I didn’t know you had a pretty sister pala,” they would call out to me, most likely in hopes that I’d introduce them to her. But she was 25 and had a boyfriend. She was already a lawyer, too. Everyone else in the camp was around 16-21 years old, and I knew my sister’s type. What I didn’t know was Marc’s type. During the camp, I didn’t really notice anything off. Let’s just say that camp wasn’t very interesting in terms of friendship or relationship drama. However, during the last day as we were about to go home, I went to look for my sister, hoping to borrow her power bank. Sadly, I didn’t get to borrow her power bank because my attention had been caught by the way Marc stood there, happily conversing with - you guessed it - my sister. The whole bus trip they were together, even at the stopovers. Yes, I was somewhat jealous, but I wasn’t hurt. I always kept in mind that my time will soon come. However, I didn’t know that it’d come so quickly after that camp. Upon coming home from camp with my sister, I received a friend request from Marc. It weirded me out, knowing how we never talked the entire three days at camp, and him showing absolutely no interest in even being acquaintances with me. Then he suddenly sent me a friend request? I concluded that he just wanted to be Facebook friends with me to get more info about my sister. However, that idea was overruled by my hidden admiration for him. With permission from my sister, I clicked accept. And within 3 minutes, I received a message from him. “Hiii,” it read. I got excited, but the thought that he probably just wants to get on my good side to get to my sister kept reappearing. I told my sister about it, and she told me that I should make friends with him because he was more my age. So, with her consent, I replied. That night, we had a fun conversation, talking about our hobbies, past crushes, and such. However, the thought of him just using me to get to my sister remained in my head. I tried to tease him about my sister in hopes of getting him to finally admit. But he never did. We talked all evening. The next day, I received a good morning message from him. This was the first time a guy ever greeted me good morning. Oh, how my heart raced upon waking up and seeing that message. Not long after, we started talking every day. After a week, we hung out. We went to this escape room in Katipunan together with my friend. After failing to solve the escape room, we went to UP Town Center and enjoyed some karaoke at Timezone. My friend approved of him, and I was more than happy that I was finally getting a love life. We chatted and chatted all day long for about a week until he told me that he was migrating to the US. My heart skipped a beat. I was about to cry. “If he’s leaving then what’s the sense of all this? Why?” I thought. “Joke,” he said right after. I can’t believe my world almost shattered upon knowing that this guy, whom I’ve just been talking to for about a week, was going to migrate. This was when I figured out that I was developing some sort of attachment to him. Though he wasn’t migrating, he was going to the US for a vacation with his brother. Even if it was only temporary, it still saddened me a lot that I actually cried. A few days before he left was his birthday. I felt that things were somewhat escalating between us so I thought it was just proper that I gave him something, right? Wrong. I went to this sports outlet store near my school and decided to get him an original Nike T-shirt. I couldn’t get him anything fake because he was rich, and it’d be embarrassing, so I ended up spending over 1,500 for a white T-shirt that had the word “Nike” on it. He was thankful for it, and he did appreciate it, even saying that I didn’t really need to get him something like that. Why I thought it was a mistake, however, was that the next month was my birthday, but he was on vacation in the US at that time. Though I was really expecting something from him when he came back, there was nothing. It saddened me, but I shrugged it off. I didn’t want to ruin his perfect image in my mind, because I truly believed he was this complete teenage dream boy. Trust me, I was so successful in keeping this image of him for about 9 months. We used to see each other weekly, always at the same place, UP Town Center, but only because he lived in Katipunan. We watched movies together, and I even remember when I almost gave him my first kiss, but the word is “almost.” It didn’t happen. I remember being so jealous of all the other girls that he’d mention on Twitter, obsessively stalking these girls to see if I should be insecure about them. At one point, I wanted to make him jealous, too. So, I changed my friend’s name in my contacts to a guy’s name and I had her text me stupid things while I was out with him. It was pathetic, but it worked. I sat beside him while we were out eating with my best friend, and he was looking at my phone. He asked me to whom I was talking to, and i thought it was the cutest thing ever. Prom season came, and of course, I wanted to take him. The expenses were expensive though. It was an extra 2,500 pesos for the date, and I was going to pay for all that. It was a lot, and a part of me knew he didn’t deserve it, but nothing else would have made my night better, so I arranged a “promposal” for him the moment I had already saved up for that prom ticket. As usual, we went out on a Friday night. We watched a movie, and I can even remember what movie it was. It was Logan. But while we were doing that, my best friend arranged an agreement with the baristas at Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf, and handed the signage I made on a ½ illustration board reading “Marc, Cruz with me to prom?” After watching the movie, I told him that I wanted to get coffee, and that I was going to meet my best friend. We went to the cafe, and as I received my order, the barista loudly spoke, “One prom date for Mayumi,” and she revealed the signage I made while my best friend recorded the whole event. He was shy about it, but he was smiling. I asked him “Marc, Cruz with me to prom?” while laughing and trying not to be so shy about it. He was smiling when he said yes, and then we had our picture taken together. It truly was a memorable night, and I can still feel the butterflies I once had. Though I ended up not going to prom at all, that promposal was worth it. I never thought I’d have the guts to ask a guy out for prom like that in public, but it was something I’d never forget. We didn’t end up together, if you were wondering, because I had strict parents, and he didn’t want that. We stopped talking a month after that promposal. That was also when I realized how petty our whole relationship was, but I could never regret it. It was my first crush, but would I call it love? Probably not, even if we both said our I love you’s. I was caught up in the rush of it all, pushing me to admit feelings I didn’t feel. I first knew it wasn’t love when I truly fell in love but that’s a different story now.

[celestial-writespace]

Foggy Mountain

Dear Baguio tourist, Now, it may not be the first time you're going to Baguio, and you might feel like you already know the place and all, but I'm here to tell you of the hidden gem that I found, resting on top of the mountains of Baguio.

About two years ago was when I first visited the cool city of Baguio with my family. My family had been there a couple of times before, way back when I wasn't even conceived yet, so you can imagine it's been kind of a long time since their last visit. My dad had arranged the whole trip, with a complete itinerary, planning our daily activities by the hour. We went to the typical tourist spots: Mines View Park, Camp John Hay, and the Bencab Museum. All three offered me a fun, sight-seeing experience and truly I enjoyed my time there. But certainly, what I undeniably loved about Baguio is the food. We ate at several restaurants, namely, Tsokolateria, the Ketchup Food Community (now closed) and Te Quiero, which all served remarkably good food. However, it was on our last night in Baguio that I truly appreciated the place. My father had placed a reservation in a restaurant called Foggy Mountain Cookhouse. We had absolutely no idea what the place looked like, or if they even served good food. The place was completely unfamiliar to us, as well as its location. So with the help of Waze, we got directions to go there. The phone read an estimated travel time of 30 minutes, and needless to say, we were not happy. We had been touring all day, and all we wanted to do was eat. More so, the roads we had to take to arrive at the restaurant were bumpy and all inclined. Our 1996 Hi-Ace could barely go up the inclined, rocky roads. When Waze finally told us "You have arrived at your destination," it puzzled us. We saw no restaurant signs, and we were getting really annoyed. My dad decided to call the chef whom the restaurant belonged to, and he sincerely apologized for failing to send us directions. It turned out that the restaurant was actually a house, and it was not very visible. You could only see the gate, and once they opened after we honked 5 times as instructed by the chef, it was a steep inclination once again. The temperature once we got outside of the van was way beyond what our skin was used to. It was definitely a lot colder than the normal temperature in the other areas of Baguio, being located at one of the city's highest points. More so, it had just rained a few minutes before we arrived, intensifying the already cold temperature. I had my thickest jacket on, but it was not enough. My father felt the same, wearing already two jackets. We quickly rushed from the warmth of our van to the warmth of the cookhouse. We entered the restaurant, which seemed more like a home that just had a couple of tables and chairs to accommodate diners. You could very well notice the paintings, figurines, furniture, and framed pictures that are sure to give you a warm, homey feeling. We sat down at the dining table, and it turned out that the food had already been pre-ordered by my father, but it had yet to cook. However, we requested for some hot chocolate to keep our bodies even warmer. Although all orders should have already been pre-ordered, they were more than willing to help us achieve maximum comfort and served us with dark hot chocolate, similar to the ones they served at Tsokolateria. As we expected, it was as bittersweet as one could be. It was also topped with two big marshmallows that complemented the drink. I looked around and observed the house. There was a picture of him and his wife standing on one of the shelves that held some of his porcelain. One by one, the food started to come. First off was the Fresh Orange Vinaigrette Salad. The colorful combinations that the vegetables so harmoniously put together definitely was eye-catching. My pescatarian sister could not wait to indulge in the fresh greens grown from the farms of Baguio itself. As my father poured the vinaigrette, the rest of us proceeded to take a piece of greens each. The tangy, sweet flavor of the vinaigrette matched so harmoniously with the lettuce, tomatoes, olives and especially the feta cheese and slices of smoked salmon. Our family were avid salmon lovers, and their generosity in serving us with the salmon definitely delighted our hearts. Having such amazing food in a homey set-up gave us the temporary bliss of family dinner together at home. More so, the cold temperature made us feel that we were abroad, but mixed with the comfort they provided us, it was merely a problem. Next came the ever-so unforgettable lamb steak. I remember very clearly how soft the meat was when I first took a slice with my knife, which I deemed useless. We savored the unique, delicious barbeque sauce that tingled our tastebuds. Paired with the cajun style fried rice that we also ordered, the two flavors made a harmonious pair. My sister could not bear to break her diet to indulge in the hearty meal carefully prepared for us. The steak was also served with some sort of potato side dish. It was crispy, and it was hard to tell whether it was baked or fried, but the way it was cooked was definitely one of a kind; it was the first time we had all seen potato cooked and served that way. We indulged in this unique side dish, and again, it complimented the whole meal perfectly. As we finished our meal, the chef came out of the kitchen to, I assumed, check on the customers. Our seats were nearest to the kitchen so I was able to get a clear view of the chef. Of course, my father who had a passion for cooking as well, could not let the night pass without personally meeting the wonderful chef. He called on the man dressed in a dirty white apron to compliment him on the amazing dishes served. The chef was ever-so welcoming and sparked a joyful, friendly conversation with my family. He even revealed the secret to his special potato side dish, telling us that he boils them first and uses a special technique to bake them and just adds a bit of salt later on. We truly felt at home in his home, and we were sure to come back to that wonderful place.

[celestial-writespace]

Home

Home isn’t always a place.

               It was 4:30 PM and it was a warm, sunny day in the municipality of Quezon City. Students from all over the city had just been dismissed, including those from a particular exclusive all-girls Catholic school in BF Homes. Now, you might think that girls from exclusive Catholic schools are just a bunch of materialistic self-absorbed brats, but honestly, they’re so much more than that. It was there where I met some of the most broken people and I can still remember the day I first met them.

               I was six years old, and my family had just moved from Bulacan to Quezon City. I put on this unfamiliar brown uniform and had a huge nametag reading “Hi! I’m MAYUMI”. My father brought me to to this huge establishment and came with me to the classroom. My first thought was “wow everyone’s a girl” and somehow this fact intimidated me. I felt the intense pressure of having to keep up with the other 49 girls in my class. I got to talk to some of my classmates, and I could instantly tell how they all came from rich families as I saw their expensive Barbie bags, watches, stationaries and such. I even met this girl named Erika, who turned out to be a child star. After a couple days and a lot of getting-to-know-each-other activities, I learned that some of my classmates had parents who were doctors or lawyers, and others had huge family businesses. I compared myself to my classmates, and became jealous of them for having the seemingly perfect life where I could get all the material possessions I wanted.

               As time passed by, however, I got used to the environment. I made a lot of friends eventually and I learned the awful truth that their lives aren’t as perfect as they seem to be. It turns out that all the expensive things their parents buy for them are just to make up for the fact they they barely spend time with them. They’d tell me stories of how their parents never make time for them. And of course I won’t forget how I’ve stayed a witness to the fact that broken marriages leave broken children. Even the class clown cries when she’s alone.

               One day, I went inside the comfort room and found one of my funniest and liveliest classmates crying inside a cubicle. I decided to talk to her. She revealed to me that she actually lost both her parents at the age of five and was struggling to be raised by her grandmother

               Truly, everyone’s a bit broken inside, don’t you think? I mean, I’ve experienced my own fair share of struggles. I remember this time where I was completely devastated, after hearing that my parents were planning an annulment. I refused to talk to anyone. Although despite my loss of interest in interacting with my friends, instead of getting mad at me, they bought me a cake with the words “Cheer up! We’re here for you” on them and surprised me during recess. I hadn’t smiled in the longest time and let me tell you that at that time, you would’ve been blinded by the way I grinned and deafened by the way I was laughing so hard with them. I had the biggest emotional outburst as I was filled with the joy of friendship.

I can even remember the days wherein we just wanted to chill around. As a result of our boredom, we’d walk to the local Starbucks not far from our school and stay there to study or just talk. It’s funny because it was there where I realized that I was so blessed for having these people in my life. Do you ever just have friends so amazing that a regular trip to your local café can instantly be one of the most memorable moments in your life because of you just have such a great time with them? There were many instances wherein I had felt the impact of sadness occupying my inner thoughts, but the reason I still stand being the cheerful person that I am is because of the friendship I’ve developed with these amazing people.

But most importantly, what I loved most about us was that we it was the type of friendship wherein we did our best to bring each other up, and not bring down anyone. We were all determined to grow with each other, to help each other develop into beautiful ladies, as cheesy as it sounds. They made my days so much brighter and I cannot even begin to imagine how I would be able to survive my elementary and high school days without them. I mean, friends are forever, right?

[celestial-writespace]

man

A short poem on biblical manhood

a man of God,

a man who submits,

is a man who could

protect and convict

with the Spirit afire,

he controls every urge

gentleness, he acquires

love and dominance, converge

sin and seduction, he declines

as rowdiness remains a foreign thought

the Spirit inside, maintains his shine

and what endures - the Word as taught

[celestial-writespace]

Seemingly

Sometimes, your greatest love isn’t always the one you end up with.

[ genre: romance, teen fiction ]

Have you ever met someone who you thought was seemingly perfect? It’s this one person who just seems to have absolutely everything you’re looking for. A person you’d never thought could even exist. That one person, the one who you’d always have a soft spot for. That was it, that was exactly what I’d describe Kyle. I’m Margaux, and this is how a green eyed boy who wore dark grey jeans and a black hoodie that day in September changed my life forever.

If you’re reading this, then it must mean that it’s probably already some time in 2040 where I’m all grown up, being stable and all, and this “story” I’m writing, just happened to live on for a couple decades. I don’t know who’ll be reading this, if you’re my friend or a completely random stranger, but in case you didn’t already get it, or you just completely went over all the things I said, I’m Margaux. As of June 20th of the year 2018, I’m 18 years old, and I’m probably the typical freshman college girl. I was born and raised (as typical as it may sound) in the sunny town of Phoenix, Arizona. Let me start my story a little like this:

Okay, let’s flashback to the day I first started college. Now, I’m generally a pretty open, outgoing girl, but this day just made me so anxious. I woke up today at 4 AM, and the welcoming rally starts at 8. I was totally not stressing out. I mean, who would’ve thought i’d actually make it into my dream school? Did I even deserve it? WHY WAS I THERE? REALLY? Anyway, so I started my morning, like any other, with coffee and bread, in a desperate attempt to calm myself down and make it feel like it was just any other day. The anxiety didn’t fully go away, but my favorite bittersweet sensation from a good cup of freshly brewed coffee definitely helped. A few hours of stress, anxiety and weirdly enough, boredom combined, and the clock struck 7 o’clock. Of course, I immediately left at that moment.

As I arrived in school, the anxiety took over me. There were so many people who were so much better than me. Talk about insecurity, right? Flash forward to the end of the day, when I became tired, scared, but thankfully, a little less anxious, and a little more excited, but nevertheless, I came here to learn, and I kept in mind that I really shouldn’t let those things bother me. I deemed college one of the most life changing periods in my life. At that time, I was so ready to reinvent myself, move on from the horror that is high school, and prepare myself for a better future ahead of me.

When three months had passed since my first day at University of Phoenix, midterms had just ended, and I had been a member of this lovely sorority where my mother was once a member of, for around 2 months now.. I hoped to gain a sisterhood like no other through this. This was where I met my first college best friend, Sarah. I was definitely off to a great start, and I hoped so hard that nothing changed this for the next 4 years. However, it was way too early for me to hope, right?

One day in September, I committed to going to a Mura Masa concert with Sarah. She and I both loved Mura Masa, and it was his first show ever in Phoenix. To add, Sarah had been such a nice friend to me. She was the only one caring enough to show me around the campus voluntarily, and we’d have lunch together every time our schedules aligned. Seeing this, I knew we just had to go together. Little did I know that going to that concert would change my life forever.

My phone read 9 o’clock, the concert just started, and I was having the time of my life seeing one of my favorite artists play live with my college best friend. But there was something more magical about that night. There was a tall guy that was standing beside me, in his dark grey knee-ripped jeans, a black Mura Masa hoodie and some beat up Nikes. He sparked up a simple conversation as the intermission started. Nine. That’s how many words it took for him to finish his sentence, and how many seconds it took for me to gaze at his beautiful face, which was a bit too long for someone to respond to such a simple question. “What do you think the next song’s gonna be?” he asked me.

“I think it’s definitely gonna be my favorite, Firefly” I responded, as I lock eyes with the silver haired fellow. Suddenly, the music started. But that wasn’t the only thing that started that night, but also a love that just seemed so right. I see this as mystical I'm sure that you know, my favorite line from Firefly played as I stare at him once more. That night was mystical, for sure. Although, I’m not quite sure if it was those green eyes that got me lost every time I looked at him, or his soft-looking lips I would have loved to lock with in those moments. Kyle and I danced and sung along to our favorite songs, and not too soon after, Sarah joins in and gets to know him a little more.

The concert ended, and me and my friend were now with Kyle. As we were walking to the parking lot, we exchanged numbers. Turns out, he was an artist who dropped out of college in his sophomore year. He loved painting and photography the most, for he thought that being able to capture beautiful moments in one’s life was one of God’s greatest blessings to mankind. But to me, it was people like him. Those that appreciated the beautiful little details, and those that believed that imperfection is most times what makes us human, and what makes us beautiful.

Sarah drove me home, and during our drive, she talked to me about Kyle. “Soooo, Kyle huh?” she teases me. I wasn’t gonna deny it to my best friend.

“Yeah, I like him, what’dya think?”

“I think you guys are really compatible for each other, hell, couldn’t even get you guys separated.”

So that night I came home, I could not stop smiling and thinking about the enchanting night I had just experienced. I wondered until about 3 in the morning. Did he know how wonderstruck I was when I met him? And all I could hope for was that, he wasn’t already in love with someone else. I fell asleep to these thoughts.

The next morning, I woke up to a vibration from my phone, which rested on top of my chest. I received a text from him. “Forgot to tell you, I thought you were wonderful last night, and i’d love to get to know you more, perhaps over some coffee?” it read. The text struck my stomach with butterflies as I eagerly texted back “I feel the same, actually. How about today at 4PM?” A minute passed and I got a confirmation text, complete with the words “Can’t wait!”

We met up at a local cafe on the corner of 10th street and Park Avenue. I walked into the cafe but failed to spot him anywhere, so I decided to sit down at the table by the glass window. Five minutes passed and I saw him on the other side of the street, about to cross the road. Seeing him once more brought an uncontrollable smile on my face. He entered the cafe, approached me and I ultimately greeted him with a warm hug. He smelled bittersweet for some unknown reason, like the coffee I drank every morning. He smelled like.. Home. It was the scent I could wake up to every morning.

And so we talked for hours about our favorite songs and how he loved travelling so much that he could spend the rest of his days travelling everywhere and never have one permanent home. He told me his adventures in Peru, Japan, Australia, Indonesia, all at his age of 23. It was truly amazing to see how one man could appreciate so much in life. Everything to him was beautiful. I wondered if I was too.

Seven o’clock struck and he invited me back to his place for some dinner. I spent such a wonderful afternoon with this man, but I was not to forget why I stayed in Phoenix despite my longing urge to leave this city, my studies. I told him I had things to do and his persistence went on, not in a bad way though. He wanted to help me finish my paper for a writing class I had. Well, he was an artist so I figured he’d be of great help. I was wrong. “OH WOW now I know why you stuck with playing music and visual arts, you are absolutely terrible” I say, teasing him as I giggle. He really was terrible, but that’s not what I looked at. I looked at how hard he tried despite knowing he wasn’t exactly a good writer. It was cute. He was cute. This infatuation has really gotten over me. “It’s cute you know,” I said, staring at him as he typed on my laptop a few more senseless lines.

“What is?” He asked with a grin on his face.

“When you try like that, but fail in the end,” I answered.

“How is that cute?” He asked, this time, looking at me in the eyes that showed the most interest in what I was saying.

“Because you’re determined, and I find that cute.”

He pinched my nose and said “not as cute as you, you little human bean.” We spent the rest of the night teasing each other and just talking for hours, being with each other like nothing else mattered. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. We were spending most our nights together like this until the next month. We knew each other’s favorites, our interests, our childhood, and even our past, including past relationships. At this point, it was safe to say i loved him. Or at least I thought it was.

It was movie date after park dates after study dates. Although he dropped out of college, he never stopped supporting me in my goals. He understood how college was so important to me, and how I wanted to make things right in college after all my mistakes in high school. He knew that for me, college was the time I wanted to reinvent myself, and he was more than happy to be part of such a life changing period in my life.

Never have I met someone who scarily liked the exact things as I did. He had the same political views, same moral values. Never have I met someone so beautiful, someone who saw wonder in the least wonderful things. You could say we sort of completed each other’s sentences. He was good for me, I knew, because I felt that I was growing as person, becoming more positive around him, and others. We complemented each other, and it was all going good. It truly was as if we were made for each other. We were compatible, but perhaps, too compatible that it scared me too. I thought that somewhere along the way, it might become a problem.

The time came, it seemed as if something kept bothering him. That smile I could never tired of, was gone. Was I doing something wrong? What was it I was lacking? I thought. I just couldn’t bare that I wasn’t making him happy. So one day, I came over to his place, and I decided to confront him. “Why aren’t you happy with me anymore?” I was hoping to hear something like “You’re a bit too clingy” or that he didn’t really like me anymore, or he just simply got bored of me in general. But it wasn’t because of any of those that we just couldn’t be together. It was because of a fragment of his past that kept reappearing in his head every time he looked at me. He told me I was beautiful, and that he had spent his greatest days with me, but it was all too familiar for him.

Before I came into the picture, he had dated this girl named Emma. I had gone to high school with her. No doubt, she was beautiful, kind and smart, which had caused her to be one of the most popular girls in school. However, she had transferred in senior year, and no one knew why. It turned out she had severe anxiety and depression, as Kyle said. This had also become the reason for Kyle to drop out of college. He took care of her. He was so sure about her, that he wanted to spend the rest of his days with her. She had graduated high school and a few months after, he proposed to her. He said he knew they were young, but he had been so sure about his forever with her, that she was his, and he was hers, and nothing could have broken them apart.

I thought we had an invincible love, a love that no one could top, until I saw the way his eyes sparkled talking about Emma. It never sparkled that way when we were together. He had a different glow to him. He was sad talking about this, but he had more life than he ever did going on dates with me. Seeing the way he talked about her, It hurt. It hurt that he couldn’t be that way with me. Though I knew he had feelings for me, it wasn’t enough. It was not the best kind of love he deserved. He deserved Emma, not me.

However, let me tell all of you that during those moments, I was more in awe at how one man could love a woman so much than I was jealous. At that point, I already knew where it was going. We weren’t going to end up together and maybe it was okay. Maybe he’d be better off without me, because I knew at that moment, I wasn’t what he needed. And maybe I never will be.

Moving onto the story, Kyle and Emma plan their small wedding. Emma and her dad drive to pick up her wedding dress days before the wedding, but gets into a major car crash which costs her dad his life. This triggers her depression and long story cut short, she decides that suicide is the best option for her. She was found in the bathtub of her parents’ house lifeless, with a note “I’m sorry, Kyle. Know that i’ll never stop loving you, even in the afterlife. I’ll see you soon.” And of course, Kyle is distraught. The woman she loved so dearly, the woman who he had planned to spend his entire life with, committed the most selfish act of all. Up until now she remains in his heart, and he was never really meant to be mine to begin with. Although they never got married, it was as if they did. He was going to love her, for better or for worse, even after death tried to do them part.

Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new, a line from one of the songs in his playlist which he loved listening to. And now I know why. He couldn’t deny he had feelings for me, for it was too real for it all to just be fake. One thing i’ll always remember in his voice though, is how he bid me goodbye that day.

“You are a beautiful and respectful woman, Marge. I’m so thankful that I met someone like you. Any man, and I mean any man would be so lucky to have you in their life. Although it would have been nice for me to be that man, i’m sorry. I still think about her countless times a day. I see her in you sometimes, and I don’t want that to be the reason I stay with you. I don’t want you to fall in love with someone whose thoughts keep wandering to someone else, more so,someone else who’s long gone. Promise me, Marge, you’ll find someone who’ll give you the world, because I know that’s what you deserve, and exactly what I can’t give you.”

I hugged him tight and gave him a quick kiss. Our first, and last. And maybe also the first and last time i’ll feel that way about someone. And so I told him that there was no need for such an apology. “Maybe we’ll find our way to each other someday,” were the last words I told him.

It hurt, but I knew he was doing this for me. It was a kind act, kind of like mercy killing. I would have endured a greater pain if he hadn’t told me as early. I was never going to forget the genuine happiness he always made me feel whenever i’d be in his presence, and maybe, just maybe, i’ll feel that way again with somebody else, or maybe, with him but in a different time. I was truly hopeful, that maybe it was right love at the wrong time, and if it was right love, maybe the right time will come.

It was sad getting to experience a love so surreal but not having it last for so long, but I don’t regret having met him. He showed me what it was like to truly love someone so deeply. He showed me how beautiful life was, and that we should never stop loving, even after death, may it be your own, or anything/ anyone else around you. Loving was a gift, one that we should practice, even if it hurt. Sometimes there are things that will continue to make love a hard thing to do, but we shouldn’t stop. Alfred Lord Tennyson once said “'tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” That experience of mine is one I would never forget, and never regret. Kyle and I remained friends, but months after we decided to remain friends, he seized to travel the world, and I deemed i’d never see him again, nor hear from him.

EPILOGUE

I now write as Margaux, a 34 year old woman, with a stable job in the state of New York, who graduated form the University of Phoenix with awards, like I always pictured myself back then. I write as a married woman, with a loving husband, and 2 amazing children.

I met my husband when I landed my first job in LA. The best part about it is, when I met him, you could tell he had the brightest glow in him, his eyes sparkled whenever he’d see me, and you could feel it in his kiss. It took us 3 years before he proposed to me, and I could never been happier that day I said “I do, Father.”

I write because few years after I got married and had my first child, I received a letter from somewhere in Puerto Rico. It read:

“To the beautiful Margaux,

I heard you got married, and I could never have been happier for you. I’m glad you’ve found someone who will treat you well, much that I couldn’t. I don’t exactly know if you still care but, just as you remember, I left because I traveled the world to find myself. During my first year of travelling, i fell in love with immersing into the different cultures and learning more about each one. I started volunteering at charity foundations in every country I visit, and i’ve become a self-proclaimed journalist now. And I guess travel is whom I’m married to now. Anyway, I hope you’re living the wonderful live you deserved. Write back, so at least I know you got this.

Sincerely,

Kyle”

[celestial-writespace]

Ruth

The story of Ruth begins with her association to Naomi, Elimelech’s widow. As she proves her loyalty to her, she meets the kind hearted man, Boaz. The rest is history.

[ genre: nonfiction, biblical ]

Famine has hit Bethlehem and everyone is forced to evacuate. And so Elimelech, father of two sons, and husband of Naomi, becomes worried. They decide to move east, towards the country of Moab. And in Moab, they lived. Time passes and Elimelech dies, now Naomi is left with her two sons, who both marry two local girls, Ruth and Orpah. Everything is going well for the family, at least it seems that way for now. Soon after, Mahlon and Kilion, the two sons, also pass away. This leaves Naomi husbandless and sonless but she is not alone, for she had her two daughter-in-laws.

Ruth’s POV:

My husband, his brother, and his father are all dead. I’m now left with my mother-in-law and my sister-in-law, all man-less. Yes, I am not alone, but seeing that we are left with no man? This was going to be a struggle for sure. Naomi decides that it would be best to return home. Orpah and I pack our luggage and ready ourselves to head to the land of Judah. However, Naomi tells us goodbye. But what is this? We are left alone and she tells us to stay behind? I am not one to leave such a kind woman alone, nor do I want to be alone myself. Naomi has done me and Orpah good, it was only right that I stay with her. So despite her attempts to urge me to stay, my loyalty stands to grow only to become more firm.  “You must leave, the both of you, for there is no sense in staying with me. I am no longer capable to bear sons that are to be your husbands, and even if I were, would you wait for them to grow old enough to become your husbands? Of course not, for that would be foolish. Leave, and I will pray for God’s kindness upon you both. You have both shown true kindness to me and my family. May the Lord bless you,” she said. But no, I could not let this happen. “Goodbye, dear Naomi. May the Lord show his mercy upon you and your kind heart,” Orpah says as she kisses Naomi goodbye. I cannot fathom how Orpah could just leave but I know that Orpah leaving only made my will stronger. I tell Naomi that I am to stay by her side. Wherever she would go, that’s where I would want to be. Wherever she would stay is to be where I will stay too. I was more than determined to go back with her to her people.

Naomi’s POV:

My sons are gone, and all they have left me are their widows, Ruth and Orpah. I determined that it would be best for me to go back to Bethlehem. I say goodbye to Ruth and Orpah. I see that a future for these two ladies, and I do not want to ruin their opportunities. Orpah kisses me goodbye, and it pains me to leave these women behind. However, Ruth never ceases to surprise me once again. “No, Naomi. You have done me good throughout the time I have been part of your family. I will not leave you. Your God is mine, and I wish to be a part of your life,” Ruth said. This melted my heart, Ruth is a good woman, and she truly did good to my family. Who was I to reject such a woman? Because of this, I’m convinced to bring her along to Bethlehem. And so we reach Bethlehem, and even if 10 years had passed, they somehow still recognize me. As we arrive, a woman exclaims “Can this be Naomi?” But no, I could not bear to be known as the same woman I was 10 years ago. God has forsaken me, therefore I shall be a new person. “Call me Mara,” I reply to the woman. “I find no sense to be called Naomi anymore, for the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me. Please, call me Mara,” I tell the women. Just as I predicted, it’s not easy for us. I think I’m undergoing depression. I haven’t been in my best mood lately, and everyday just doesn’t seem to get better. All I can hope for, is a better future for Ruth, for I know my chances at this are lost. One day, Ruth approaches me and asks to work in the fields. The barley harvest has just begun, and so I tell her to go forth, and glean as she wishes.

Ruth’s POV:

And so Naomi finally agrees to let me go with her. It was hard times for us both, and the only opportunity I could find is to set out and work in the fields. My husband would not have liked the idea of me working in a field, gleaning behind harvesters. Oh how I miss him. Suddenly, a man approaches the harvesters and greets them. Oh, this man. I will never forget how he looks. A few meters away from me, I could see his eyes dazzle as the sunlight hit his pupils and cheekbones. He notices me, and asks the harvesters “Who does that young woman belong to?”

They answer him, saying that I was the Moabite that Naomi brought back from Moab. They tell him how i have come here, and begged to glean behind the harvesters, and of how I had little rest for that day. The man is kind-hearted and he shows mercy upon me. He tells me, “Do not go away from me, and work for me. The men, they shall not lay a hand on you. Drink water from their jars which they have filled whenever you are thirsty.”

This man is more than just kind hearted, he is generous and good in nature. I bow down to him and ask “Why would a man so rich like you, be kind to a foreign stranger like me?”

He replies, “I have been informed of your story with Naomi. You have done well in serving Naomi since her husband’s death. I have heard that you left your family behind for her, to stay in a city you have not known before, with people whom you also have not yet encountered before. For that, I wish that the Lord will bless you, that you will be rewarded for your good deeds, for you have taken refuge in the Lord.”

“May I continue to find favor in your eyes, my lord,” I reply. “You have put me at ease by speaking kindly to your servant—though I do not really have the standing of one of your servants.”

Mealtime comes, and the kind man, whose name i have learned is Boaz, approaches me and invites me over to have bread with him.

Boaz’ POV:

I had just returned to my field to check on my harvesters. The first thing that catches my attention is this beautiful woman, whom i do not recognize. I have never seen her before, but there she was, gleaning behind one of my harvesters. Though gleaning is not exactly an easy task, I observe her do it with utmost grace. This woman is unlike any woman i have encountered before. She has a unique type of beauty, and certainly she stands out for me.

Immediately, I ask the harvesters who that woman is. One of them answer me, “She is the woman that Naomi came with, form Moab.”

So she is Ruth. I’ve heard of her story with Naomi, for she was Elimelech’s wife, and Elimelech was my relative. From this, I realize that I have great responsibility to take care of this woman, and I was more than glad to be caring for such a beautiful one. I tell her to work here for good, not looking to work at any other field. I warn my men that Ruth is not to be touched, and that they are to let her drink from their jars. Of course, she was grateful for these favors. She bows down to me and asks why I had chosen to help a foreigner like her. And at last, I tell her that I am aware of her good works, of her loyalty to Naomi after her husband’s death, and that I wish only for her to be showered with God’s blessings, for I knew she deserved it.

Mealtime comes, so I invite the young woman to eat. “Have some bread and dip it in the wine vinegar.” She sits down with the other harvesters as I even offer her some roasted grain. She eats as much as she wants, and still, there were leftovers. When she finishes, I order my men, “Let her gather among the sheaves and don’t reprimand her. Even pull out some stalks for her from the bundles and leave them for her to pick up, and don’t rebuke her.”

After that, Ruth gleans the entire evening. She threshes and threshes all the barley, until it finally reached a whole amount of an ephah.

Ruth’s POV:

And after I gleaned the entire evening, I decide to go home. I show Naomi what I have gleaned, and even give her my left overs from mealtime. She immediately asks for whom I gleaned for. I answer her “The man’s name is Boaz.”

“May the Lord bless that man, for he has showed you kindness!” she tells me. “That man is a close relative of ours, one of our guardian redeemers. It will be good for you to work for Boaz, for I know he will surely take care of you, and in someone else’s field you might get harmed.”

So I follow. I remain working for Boaz until the harvests finish, and every night I come home to Naomi. However, one day, Naomi tells me that she should find a home for me, and continue to give me very specific instructions to follow. She tells me that Boaz is going to be winnowing barley on the threshing floor. So I put on perfume, wear my best clothes, go down to the threshing floor, wait for him to lie down, and finally, i lie down at his feet.

Boaz’ POV:

One night, I am eating and drinking with the harvesters on the threshing floor. I am having a great time, but now I feel tired so I decide to rest and lie down at the far end of the grain pile, where no one might disturb me. However, in the middle of the night, I feel a sudden warmth on my feet, and I then wake up to a woman lying at my feet! I immediately ask her “Who are you?”

“I am Ruth, your servant” she replies. “Spread the corner of your garment over me, since you are a guardian-redeemer of our family.” Of course, I was willing to help such a kind woman, I fancy Ruth and her kind heart and graceful ways. This is my chance to take Ruth as my wife. However, I know that I was not in the rightful position to instantly take her, for sadly, there is another man who was a closer relative than me. I explain this to her, and tell her to wait there until the morning, which she does. However, she gets up before anyone could be recognized, and I tell my men that no one must know that a woman came to the threshing floor.

I come over and call the guardian-redeemer, as well as ten elders as witnesses. I tell him, “Ruth from Moab, is selling the piece of land form Elimelech, our relative. If you shall not buy the land, then I will.”

“I will buy it,” he says.

“If you buy the land, know that you are also acquiring Ruth, in order to maintain the dead’s name with the property,” I say. At this point, I’m hoping he will change his mind.

“I cannot do it, for it might endanger my own estate.”

I cannot do it, he said. I’ve never been happier to hear four words. And so I say “oday you are witnesses that I have bought from Naomi all the property of Elimelech, Kilion and Mahlon. I have also acquired Ruth the Moabite, as my wife so that the name of the dead will not disappear from among his family or from his hometown. Today you are all witnesses!” The elders and people at the gate then give us their blessings.

I took Ruth home as my wife, and made love to her. Our love then bore a son and we named him Obed. Obed then fathered Jesse, who fathered David.

[celestial-writespace]

The House At The Drive

Nico is the handsome young boy who lived at the unusual house at Holy Spirit Drive. With his charming looks and sweet talk, he could get any girl he wished. Though, Nico isn’t as charming as he looks. He has a dark secret that has yet to be revealed.

[ genre: suspense thriller, romance, horror, crime ]

“Ya malalate na ako”, little Lucy said as she looks for her yaya. Lucy has already eaten breakfast, dressed up and packed all her things for school, but her yaya, Emma, is still busy applying her Avon lipstick. “Beh tika lang beh powder lang ako” she says as she puts on her Ever Bilena face powder. “LUCY! Tara na.”

Lucy comes down and kisses her dad whose attention is caught by Emma’s red spaghetti strap top and denim shorts. “Uhh sige bye, be good okay?” Lucy’s dad murmured.

They walk the streets of Isidora Hills like they do every morning, and pass by this old creepy house that Lucy was always so curious about. It had cemented walls with no paint on them leaving it with grey textured walls. Its doors and windows were made out of some sort of old wood; it was like it came straight out of a horror book. Lucy always wondered who lived in that house, for even though it was scary-looking, it was maintained. The house wasn’t dusty, the plants were trimmed, and there was an old car inside. “Huy tingen tingen ka rin sa dinadaanan”, Emma says as she pulls Lucy aside right before a speeding car passed. They reach the kanto between Paraluman street and Holy Spirit Drive. From there, they get on a tricycle and off to school they go. Lucy didn’t live that far from her school so her parents had no problem with allowing Emma to take Lucy to school via commute, because it really was just one tricycle away. Now, Emma would stay at Lucy’s school until she was dismissed and takes her home, taking the same route. This was their everyday routine.

One day in rainy August, the two were walking home from school when they passed by the creepy old house, and standing outside was a handsome young man who had just recently moved into the creepy house. His name was Nico. He approached Emma and started asking her questions about the area. Emma was instantly captivated by Nico’s appearance. He had a fair skin tone, brown eyes and the seemingly perfect kissable lips that Emma’s eyes are locked on. They sparked up a sweet, flirty conversation, but Lucy was not impressed. “Ya gutom na ako” complained Lucy for about 4 times before they actually continued on their way home. Soon after, talking to Nico for about half an hour before going home became part of their daily routine. Lucy did not like this, but she was bribed with good food everytime by Nico.

Emma and Nico really got to know each other well. It was revealed that Nico was sent to Quezon City by his parents in order to continue his studies. He was originally from Bohol, and the house that he lived in was a property passed on to his parents about a year ago when its original owner, Nico’s grandparent’s brother, had just died. He lived alone in that big house, and was still trying to bring it back to life. Nico had rich parents in Bohol. They owned a large company that was well known in the region, which is also the exact reason why his parents could not leave Bohol, and they had no relatives in Quezon City either. To add more, Nico was an only child.

Emma shared bits of her life to Nico too, and this resulted in her falling in love with this guy. A few months passed and Emma was more than ready to take their relationship to the next level. She starts becoming more clingy towards him, and she drops hints by constantly being touchy towards him. Well, Nico got the hint.

One day, Nico invited Emma and Lucy inside his house. Apparently, he wanted to show them how much the house has improved since he moved in. Emma was more than happy to accept the offer, but Lucy, on the other hand, was reluctant. Nico knew the only way for Lucy to agree was if she was bribed with some good food, and so Nico planned the whole thing. He bought some of Lucy’s favorite desserts and the next time around he invited them, he told Lucy about them. Lucy just couldn’t help but agree. However, she gave the condition that they’d have to leave once Lucy was finished with the food.

So there they were, standing on the porch of the creepy old house. Lucy had never seen this house this close before. Suddenly, the sound of the door creeping as Nico opened it sent chills down her spine. Now, she’s skeptical. They go inside the house, and they’re greeted by the living room composed of an old dusty couch with a brand new flat screen TV. To their left was the kitchen and dining room, where Lucy’s favorites resided. She runs to them and fills her face with the treats. “Bilisan niyo mauubos ko to!!” she says before she chuckled. The dining room wasn’t different from the living room. There was a mix of really old broken things and brand new appliances. Lucy felt weird. She’s still doubting whether or not this was a good idea.

On the other side of the house was Nico showing Emma around the first floor. “Pero yung pinakamaganda koong naayos talaga is yung kwarto ko sa taas. Tara” Nico says as she grabs Emma’s hand and they rush upstairs. Emma is amazed by how the room looks like. It looked like it wasn’t part of the house, like she just entered a whole new different house. “Ganda no?” says Nico. Emma nods and starts looking around the room. Nico then excuses himself to get them something to drink. Emma stays in the room and observes everything in it. She finds polaroids of different women on his bedside table, some with blood on them. This gives Emma the creeps. She opens one of his drawers and finds different types of knives, some with dried blood on the end. Emma becomes doubtful and rushes to get out of the house immediately. But at the middle of the hallway of the second floor was Nico, and he finds Emma rushing to leave, looking worried. Nico grabs Emma and puts his hand on her mouth to prevent her from screaming. He ties her up and covers her mouth.

Lucy, on the other hand, just finished eating and has decided to go upstairs. Lucy knocks on Nico’s bedroom door where Emma and Nico are. Nico opens the door. Lucy asks “San na si ate Emma? Uwi na kami” Lucy’s eyes gets a peak of Nico’s bedroom where she finds the reflection of Emma tied up in the mirror. She screams but before she could even take a step, Nico grabs her and ties her up in the same manner as Emma.

His evil mind tells his to finish the little girl, for there can be no witnesses. And besides, he’s used to killing people, how is Lucy any different? He takes a knife from his drawer, but as soon as he turns around, Lucy breaks free from her entanglement. She runs and Nico goes after her and kills her. Emma screams in shock and fear. She knew she was next. She was wrong. Nico had other plans for her.

He put her in the basement and tortures her in ways unimaginable. A week passed and it seems that Emma had lost hope in ever being free. It seems as if she was already dead inside. She wanted to die, rather than to go through all this pain. Her eyes has lost its soul. Her routine changed. It was no longer walking Lucy to and from school. Every morning Nico would come by and give her some sort of drug that makes her fall asleep. After a few hours, Emma would just wake up with scars and bruises on her body and the feeling that she had just been violated. At night, Nico also comes by to give her food infused with sleeping drugs. And the routine begins again.

It’s been nine days of everyday torture. Emma had just woken up and is just waiting for Nico to give her the drug. Suddenly, she hears another person inside the house. It’s another girl. Could it be his next victim? But aside from this, Emma finds this as an opportunity to be free. She tries her best to make some sort of noise while tied up on a chair. A few minutes pass and she hears the basement door open. It was the girl. But no, she was tied up. Nico had a knife against her throat. Now there were two of them. Well, at least Emma now has a friend. Her name was Bel. She was 23, and worked as a labandera in a nearby home.

The first thing they do, however, is devise a plan to get out from that house. First, they had to find a way to remove break free from their ties. They position themselves back to back and try to undo each other’s ties. Emma breaks free first then she helps Bel. However, they suddenly hear footsteps approaching the door. Bel gets hold of a broken pipe whereas Emma manages to find a big thick wooden stick. The door opens. Nico finds the two girls armed and he takes his knives from the back of his pants. Emma attacks Nico first but he manages to stab her in the kidney area. Bel runs, but Nico catches her just right before she could open the locked door. He drags her down the basement once again and ties her to a chair, whereas Emma is left to bleed to death.

Days pass and Lucy’s parents’ search for their missing child and helper intensify. Police search everywhere, and ask each house nearby if they’ve seen the child and the helper. The news about the Emma and Lucy going missing reach national television. The police even speculate that Emma might have kidnapped Lucy herself. But the question that they lingered on with this theory is that, why would a typical house maid kidnap a little girl? What would she have to gain from it? So the search continues. They drop by Nico’s house at one point. Bel hears this from the basement, and tries to make sounds to catch attention. The police officer asks about the moving chair noises, but Nico says they’re just his dogs. The police officer then brushes the incident off. Seeing such a kind-looking, handsome man, he surely wouldn’t have anything to do with such a horrendous crime, right? And so the cycle continues.

It continues until Nico has reached his 13th victim. It’s been almost 5 year since his first victim, Lucy and Emma. The police still have no clue where all the labanderas and maids have disappeared to. Lucy’s family are still in grief, and were planning a public memorial on the fifth anniversary since Lucy went missing.

Nico is now on the hunt for his 13th victim. He scouts the streets of Holy Spirit Drive once again, and that’s where he spots Marie. That day in October, Marie was on her way to school. She was wearing denim jeans and a white t shirt when she stood at the corner of the street that intersected Paraluman street and Holy Spirit Drive, the same spot that Lucy and Emma used to stop by at, which also wasn’t far from Nico’s house. Nico pretends to be another college student, stands beside Marie, and acts as if he was also looking for a tricycle. They ride the same tricycle together, and Nico takes this opportunity to spark up a conversation. However, Marie was a shy girl. She was somewhat afraid of conversing with strangers, which made it hard for Nico.

Marie takes the exact same route everyday, but at different times. Nico always looks out for her, and would find ways to talk to her, flirt with her, and even woe her. Sooner or later, Marie, the shy girl who was once so anxious, finds comfort in the small talks that Nico has with her almost everyday. She grows to enjoy his company, and considers Nico more than just a friend. Their flirting stage lasts for a couple of months, which was probably the longest that Nico had ever put effort on, but the challenge of getting such a timid girl who played hard-to-get was enjoyable to him, and it just made him more determined to get her.

One day, Nico decides to make a big move. He asks Marie, “Alam mo, gusto kita eh. Pero hanggang sa commute na lang ba talaga tayo? Hindi ba tayo pwedeng lumabas man lang kahit minsan?”

“Hindi ka naman nagtanong eh,” Marie replies. After that is what you would consider their very first date, in a small Japanese restaurant just along Don Antonio, because Nico knew how much she loved Japanese food. They spend the night talking and laughing with each other. It was Marie’s most memorable night. She has never felt so happy and alive. Nico gave her a reason to wake up everyday, and actually look forward to going to school and going home once again.

“Do you wanna come see my house?” Nico asks.

“It’s near lang naman diba?” She replies.

“Of course, mga 5 minutes away lang,” he says to reassure her. So after dinner, they head straight to Nico’s place. He tours her around, just like he did with Emma. She looks around, as Nico waits for the perfect timing. She looks at the small decorations that filled the shelves placed in the living room when a vintage music box catches her attention. This is it for Nico. She opens the music box and sees a pretty little ballerina figure emerse. The first three notes of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star starts to play. Nico takes this opportunity to grab Marie by the waist and drag her down to the basement. At one point, Marie tries to escape, almost making it to the door, but Nico grabs her feet and his strength overpowers Marie’s will to resist.

Marie is tied up on a chair at the basement now, and Nico doesn’t know what else to do. Usually, he’d torture his victims first, but something felt off. Nevertheless, he enters the basement with a tray of knives. Marie sees this and screams in terror, but the rug stuffed in her mouth prevents any noise to be loud enough for someone outside the basement to hear. Nico picks a __ knife and approaches Marie, still struggling to break free from her entanglement. Without saying any words, he caresses her left cheek with the tip of the knife softly. He brings the knife down to her neck, and finally, to her arms. Nico couldn’t bare seeing Marie so terrified. There was something about Marie that was so different. Was it because she had a pure heart? Was it because she was a shy, timid girl? He just can’t hurt her, but he can’t let her go either. So he leaves her to be. He goes up to his room and thinks about what to do while Marie is left in the basement.

Three days pass and Marie never heard of Nico again. She hasn’t intake any food nor liquid in the past few days she’s been locked up. She’s fallen from her chair, but still tied up to it. The starvation and dehydration urges her to get up and look for something that can help her break free. That’s when she looks around, still tied up to a chair, and finds a matchbox, with just one matchstick inside. She tries her best to light up the matchstick, dropping it several times in the process. However, when she finally does, she tries to burn the rope on her wrists, up to the point of enduring burns just so that she could finally escape. She does this successfully, and runs to get out of the basement.

Marie is now in the living area, where the house is awfully quiet except for a cat who passes by her and goes straight up the stairs. When the cat reaches the top of the stairs, he meows loudly and stares at Marie, as if he was calling her to follow. Marie gets the instinct that she should indeed follow the cat. As she reaches the top of the stairs, she sees the cat go into Nico’s bedroom. She follows the cat, and what she sees next is a horrific sight. Nico hung himself. She stares at his body in shock, and runs out of the house immediately.