Broke

She was slouching on the corner of the classroom indifferent to the movements of the students around her. There were some who wiggled around the room like worms. Some were noisily talking about the season finale of Glee. But she could not be in their world. She is fixated on her financial problems. It was really bothering her - the status of her finances since debts are pushing her inside the cavernous threat of being unstable... both in terms of credibility and even emotionally.

She could not concentrate on her teaching. How could she facilitate learning when in fact she was looking for a way out with the seeming intricate web of debts? She tried to sell ice candy to the students but they are now opting for those fruit shakes outside. Her longganisa was not tasty according to her co-teacher...

The banks could not allow her to restructure her loans. She's in deep shit, indeed...

She then remembered the news on TV when that man jumped out of the building's 7th floor. Would that end her problems? But what about her children? Her husband would look for another wife for sure when she would be gone. The husband even had a mistress even with her eyes still open...

"Mrs. Reyes?" the Principal's voice jolted her out of her reverie. "Please come to my office after your class."

"Yes Madam," she answered with a slight trembling on her voice.

As she walked the pebbled pathway towards the Principal's office, she heard a slight tinkling on the ground. She did not see the one peso coin first for she got distracted with the peeling part of her shoe... leatherette... She must have joined her companions when they went to the ukay-ukay for a good pair of secondhand shoes...

The principal was outside her office, arms akimbo. Her heart started to pound like mad.

Before she made a step towards the Principal's office, she bent and picked up the coin and absently placed it on her pocket.

(photo:printliberation.com)

Roasted

It was scorching, the sun. He has to endure walking under it for an hour or so. The 6-km distance of the school from their house could be that hot... He had to or else, he would spend about 20 pesos for tricycle fare. His mother could afford only 5 pesos per day. That would be for his lunch... 2 pieces of bread and an ice water.

He would envy Mark. He is his neighbor who was bought with a motorbike recently. Mark has a sister and they would be riding together. He could not ask Mark to let him ride because the sister must be prioritized...

During the times when there is rain, he would cry a bit since the downpour hides his tears. They don't have an umbrella at their house and the owners would scold him if he would cut banana leaves for protection.

Jolito cajoled him to stop schooling and join them in the "bangka". The owner of the "liba-liba" is recruiting young boys to become helpers. But his teacher told him not to do it since, according to him, it is an illegal trade. But there were times when he would think otherwise. Especially when hunger would arrest him like mad at lunch time...

One time, his teacher in Chemistry scolded him for dozing off. He had this funny feeling at one in the afternoon, a feeling as if he would pass out. He could not understand how those atomic numbers are taken out from the periodic table since his head would feel like splitting. But he would feign an expression of interest to avoid more embarrassments.

Now, it's so hot. The road showed a mirage of being wet due to the heatwaves. His head seems to sizzle with the perspiration on his scalp. He could probably use his textbook to cover the heat...

Chester fell on the ground as Mark sped by with his motorbike. A classmate rushed to where he was and called out his name.

He tried to open his eyes and he saw a platter of roasted chicken instead of Kim...

"Now, I could not be hungry..." he passed out when the roasted chicken lifted him on its arms towards the nearest house.

Dusk

It's empty. The catacomb was as quiet as death... The name on the epitaph was dreamlike... Friedrich C. Reyes... "

"HERE LIES A MAN WHO THOUGHT THAT LOVE COULD HEAL ALL PAIN"

He was wrong, you thought. He died when some holdup guy stabbed him to death when he refused to give the laptop he was carrying. The killer is still at large.

You shed some tears. You were close with Rich (that's what you called him). You still remembered how he told you his dreams. He wanted to be known as the best sound engineer here in Asia. He had some music clips emailed to you and you really thought that they were good. You also remembered how he hugged you when you told him how wonderful his compositions were...

Ah, such a waste of life... You could not imagine the pain his parents has gone through with his demise. You, as a friend had even suffered a great sense of loss... how much more with them?

"I brought you something Rich..." you whispered as you placed TRYK, his favorite comic book. You said a little prayer and turned your back from his tomb...

Your foot steps echoed as the afternoon turned to dusk. You arrived at the gate and that was the time when you saw him.

"You're Liza?" he asked with a sad expression. After your nod he continued, "How are you related to Friedrich?"

"He's...was... a close friend..." you choked.

"I"m sorry," he said and handed you something. He left hurriedly as you opened the envelope. There was key inside and the name ROSE PENSION HOUSE was etched on the key's side. You tried to call the man but he vanished...

You arrived at the pension house with Kim. You asked him to accompany you. The front desk personnel said the name of the person who is registered to the room was Marvin Tan. You suddenly knew it was a fake identity...

The door opened and on top of the bed was Friedrich's laptop.

You moved closer and saw a note posted on it: GHOST!

Was the killer haunted by Rich's ghost? Or there was something else... You cried as you looked at the object of your friend's death.

(photo:jeremylent.wordpress.com)

Sad Truths

He came to your office all thin and a bit dirty. His shirt was yellowed due to overuse... He then divulged his secrets to you and you were jolted out of your own wonderland and returned to the real world. You looked at his eyes and you saw a certain sadness in there...

After that he started to have fleeting visits at your office and eventually he became the brother you did not have...

How many kids who are like him? How many young persons out there who are facing their own sufferings? Why should it be like that?

Adults could indeed be children in the real sense. They could not act the way it's supposed to be. Parents could sometimes fail due to immaturity. They would only consider themselves not realizing that having children would entail service... You are guilty also of some of this "adult-child" stuff yet you won't fail to self-talk, to process and act on things which need to be acted upon...

You could not grasp the magnitude of those charitable institutions especially those from the local TV networks which would herald their deeds of donating bags and notebooks to those kids. Yet, these things are all just passing. The real battle is how could they survive in the real world where they are not trained how to deal with. When we give five pesos to that street child, would that solve something? Yeah it could probably feed him with bread worth the dole out but after that... what?

That's the broadness of our problems. We could not blame the parents who gave birth to these kids like litters for they might be victims of their own consequences... But then again, adults are supposed to act like they KNOW HOW to deal with life.

How do we build their future? Most of them are on the streets at night while most of us gamble or view those sloppy telenovelas . We cry over Agua's misfortunes not realizing our own kids are having their own. They are being bullied, abused and pressured to drink, smoke and have sex. Yet we contain ourselves to our own worlds and cry over fiction.

Yeah, you could be weary by just thinking such thoughts for you could only help one or two kids since adopting them all would be impossible and would categorize you to those who visit orphanages and cry over the misfortune of others... which won't be enough.

Rage Coming Out

Eric Draven. Yeah, you sometimes miss him. You remembered how he loved his girl (Shelly) and on the night of their wedding, those guys came and curtailed his life of bliss and love. They killed his beautiful lady and pushed him to the ground till he died... So they thought.

It was Hallow's Eve and by the power of the crow, he went back to life to give revenge...

Francis was smiling as he kept his graphic novel by James O'Barr. He placed this one together with Neil Gaiman's Sandman series. Oh he loves Death and Dream... His expression suddenly changed when he remembered it was time to go to school.

He would hate it when he will be around James and his friends again. They would bully him and call him names like geek and gay. Was it his fault to prefer books from cigarettes? And why would they call him gay where in fact he's into girls? He has a crush on Sheila...

At school, he wanted to divulge his ordeal to his teacher but she's busy texting and going out of the classroom as if she's into something. His adviser is a bitch and his principal is always stooped on his laptop doing some reports probably. They don't have time for him.

He would just have to find a quiet area of the school. The back yards probably is safe for there are thick shrubs in there. He could cry in there and wonder why his classmates are so mean to him. Is he really a geek? Is it because of his thick eyeglasses? The way he dress up? Is he really gay? What is it?When he would fantasize sucking cocks? But he finds it repulsive!

He wished that his father is home. He could not picture out where Qatar is but he would always send a silent prayer for him to come home... Also, he wished that his mother would not allow Tito Fred to come to the house often. She would always tell him that Tito Fred is having problems and she is his only friend. But is it proper for them to talk about Tito Fred's problems inside his parents' room?

Ah... better immerse himself with the wonderful world of comics. David Hontiveros, his favorite Filipino comic book writer had once a character called a Damphyr... it's a half-breed of a vampire and a human...

"Oh, here's the gay geeek!" James' voice boomed in his ear as he came inside the thicket at the back part of the school. Francis jerked out of his reveries. "Hold him." James commanded three of his coven and their tight grip paralyzed him.

"You like cocks, don't you?" James' smirk was that of a deranged man. He unzipped his fly and exposed his pinkish dick. "Here! Eat this!"

Francis squirmed and closed his eyes as he felt the hot urine splashing on his face. He slumped on the ground after the thugs went away quickly. He saw his comic books on the ground - Eric Draven's face was smudged with yellowish urine.

"NOOOOOOO!" Francis screamed as he snatched a dead twig from the branch of a tree. It had sharp edges on top and he ran towards their classroom where the teacher was fixing their laboratory apparatus for Chemistry.

He found James on the back part of the room and with all force Francis stabbed him with the twig on the throat! "Not anymore!" He shouted and impaled the twig again on the face this time.

Blood spurted to his eyeglasses and Francis saw nothing but red.

Parental Guidance

For a straight day sans brownout, Johnlie camped inside his room doing a marathon on the SAW movies on DVD. His eyes were unblinking as he witnessed those decapitated bodies being presented on screen. He even had a hard-on when he saw that woman's breasts being ripped apart. All the blood and fragments of flesh spurting around the scene excited him...

The first and original is the one he really liked. With the twists and turns of the plot, his intellect was tested. His analysis on who the killer might be intensified and had a sort of orgasm at the end when he himself was deceived. It was that dead man at the center of that dingy rest room! He liked the feeling when the main character used a saw in cutting his leg just to help his family... But then again, everything was futile...

The sequel bothered him first. With all those blood and flesh torn made his throat dry. His mother went inside his room with all the screaming from the monitor and nonchalantly asked what he was viewing. "SAW," Johnlie said and his mother nodded... as if the violence and gore onscreen is alright for a fourteen-year-old guy to witness. His father entered his room and asked for some hair gel. He glanced at the screen in time for Mathew's head being smashed by a giant sledgehammer. His father winced a bit but continued to apply gel on his thinning hair. He went out and forgot everything inside his son's room. He failed to comment on the pictures posted on Johnlie's wall with paintings of body parts and photos of animals being slaughtered. The father started to imagine the body of Janice, his teenage mistress...

Johnlie clicked the remote control into freeze. He wanted to see the pain on the face of that girl with her head drilled to the skull. His heat beats intensified as he fumbled for his engorged penis...

The lights flicked on as Johnlie switched off the DVD player. He kept the case of the films with a conspicuous mark on them: Restricted.


(Photo:houshang.wordpress.com)