TABI-TABI PO

Paunang

Salita

Sa pueblo madalas matatagpuan, di sa liwanag bagkus ay sa kadiliman.

Paglubog ng araw at sa pag-lalim ng gabi, pinto ay dapat sar’han.

Narinig mo na ba? Mga bulong na tila hanging umiihip sa iyong tenga Ang mga sigaw na mas nadarama pa kesa naririnig Ang mga palahaw na may sindak at humahaplos sa iyong balat Mga makapanindig-balahibong tunog at mga ingay sa paligid Kaya’t halika at tumuloy, pagbubuksan ka namin ng pinto Tuloy kayo, ituturo namin ang daan nang ‘di kayo malito Pasok ‘ho kayo habang wala pa ang mga linggal Babala mula sa mga taga-nayon, sa isipan ay ikintal Basahin ang mga pangaral ni inang at itay

Mga

Nilalaman Whisper Phantom Miracle Sweeping Misconception Grow Beyond My Shoes When Butterflies Come To Visit Tabi Apo Tale of Sedatephobia: Stridulation Beyond Threats, Silence, and Emotions Error101 Tamed Reflection In Ripple Hasta Pronto

6 7 8 9 11 12 13 14 9 10 11 12

Shout 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

Watch Out for Mirrors Mystical Encounter Black Parade Mayung He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not Limang Buhay Ko Payong Stolen Idenity Trahe de Boda Straw In the Wind Premonition’s Eye

24 25 26 27

Luna Masid Padang Oro Plata Mata

Scream Dance of Death 28 A Death from Howlers 29 Dogs Howling 30 Teeth 31

Smile 32 MORS, ET SUSURRONE 33 SUBTRACTO

STRANGE SMELL 34

PHANTOM by: Jeramel Marie M. Llona

Awaken with a voice, a breathtaking charm Soft whispers in the ears but scared for the harm Body so still, so lost in the melody Smooth words teasing, comforting tenderly.

The leaving shadow is all I can see To the giant forest maze, what could it be?

I closed my eyes ‘cause it feels supreme A breath of a sigh for it’s only a dream.

Rain drops fall beneath the shining sky A sense of déjà vu, when it ended by Even the velvet night feels so caressing My melancholic heart, I don’t know what is missing.

Beneath the halo, the night is tempting The moon is opaque, so does the trails I take When the fog conceals, I see no hue Now all is dim, lips touched by you.

Years have passed, you thought I forgot You vowed for another that left me in a shock Different dimensions with woebegone feelings I wish you came back, in your arms it’s a blessing.

It wasn’t a dream but show me your face Dark feels, red eyes--- a winner of a race A horse? A man? Now I know who is he But thy is a phantom, forbidden for me.

Illustration by: Michael Beato

SWEEPING MISCONCEPTION by : Ma. Isabel Vasquez

Dark resounds after sunset Dauntless by the sound of the woods The light wasn’t found anywhere Since the time of epoch is veiling The door squeaks as it closes floor sounded pops and creaks Only the blue, green and yellow ornaments are radiating Do not think of holding a broom at night For it sweeps away the hidden gem Let the catastrophe find its way to sweep The dust lingering in your camp Swisshh.. Swissh… the new era has arrived All the lights foray before our eyes How the magnificent gems we have could never be seen As we surrounded by gargantuan changes Let the misconception sweeps The ancient past we believe You shone with the light on the real pearl Which lies in the deepest and darkest part Your Wisdom.

MIRACLE by: Rizza B. Morales A flash of light through a gap I thought you were a miracle, You looked like a mirage Was this what they call fate?

A wakeup call or a blaring alarm, An urge, too desperate Salvation has gone wrong A curse that ensnares souls Tangled lie for the blind The epiphany for the weary, An image from the shadows A fool for those few words What I felt was strange It almost feels like a miracle A momentary spectacle My outstretched hand had long gone stuck My palms are together I don’t wish for too much

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8

GROW BEYOND MY by: Ma. Ysabel M. Vasquez SHOES Tracing back in the past She was in comfort for more than two years of her life Dazzled by the auspicious protection she had Like anyone else, she was also loved

Like a binding soul that will never disperse

Now, she was deeply in love She was encapsulated in the thoughts of finding a good place That her shoes might carry her She won’t probably find another pair of The first time she wore those shoes shoes It was full of promise, then promises It was dirt less, tightly laced, and suppled As she gave complete abandon Which makes her heart filled with glitter A year has passed, and the shoes looked and joy. very weary It doesn’t even want to take her outside Her shoes first led her to a grassy park, It makes her ankle tired and hurts easily surrounded by beautiful trees, were they share the same smiles while hearing It makes her now feel uncomfortable a melody of little voices that are calling and laugh- She then looked outside and saw people wearing new shoes ing in rhythm and rhyme “I won’t need these shoes anymore, for they cannot take me to the place I want She already felt safe and comfortable to go to,” she said.

For it protects her from slips, trips, and falls For giving a warmth sense to her feet and She put her shoes into an empty room like an abyss For protecting her from the brisk of Where no one else can find it stones.

Stricken with a sad face, she still looked Then she started to share her dreams and ahead and put on a smile again She now finds a new pair of shoes passions Where she can carry and support her to She outgrows her love through those the places she wants to go to. shoes with her trusting feet 9

When Butterflies Came to Visit by: Bienvinido C. Ranario III and Rizza B. Morales There's this certain superstition about butterfly visiting, it is said that they were your dead loved ones’ soul, making their presence be felt.

I guess it's true.

At my work they come and go on a daily basis, some went frequently, going and coming back again.

I've been dealing with different lost souls.

Every time they came to visit, I would always be at loss for words. There are some, who talked about how they morbidly landed a tragedy so terrible while crying.

There are also those who can't even cry despite having the worst of things.

Most of their reasons are horrible enough that it made them dead inside.

Lost souls who doesn't feel like they belong anywhere, left neglected.

Most of them were treated in ways not humane, emotionally abused, or oppressed.

Living dead, trapped in limbo they cannot escape.

They're wandering around and on the void, hollowness personified, breathing but barely living.

“Please find this CANDLE, you can call this your home.” I said to Lucien as our session was dismissed.

They're my patients, and I deem them kithand-kin. The world might have turned its back on them, I’ll be their haven.

[A lingering black butterfly is a sign that one of your relatives just died. It's said it's your dead loved one's soul making presence to be felt.]

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Tabi Apo

by: Juarence C. Sergio Igwang mga istoryang pano ki mga pangyayaring ngangalasan.

Saro iyan an pagtubod na dae lamang mga tawo an naglalakaw sa kinaban.

Igwa kitang nakakahampang asin man kairibahan.

Mga elemento asin kalag; dae ta lamang namidbiran.

Kapag an saindang gusto dai mo nasabutan.

Ika man kaiyan maagi sa kamatian.

Kaya maglikay sa saimong dudumanan.

Ta sinda pwede mang nag-eerok sa saimong dalan.

Kaya tama sanang kada lakdang, magpa-tabi.

Ta dae man mawawara kung gigibuhun ta kaini Ini man tanda kan satuyang pag-respeto asin pagpa-isi.

Na kita man maki-laog sa mundong dai mn kita kabali

Ta sa pag-bungkaras ki mga aldaw asin banggi.

Sa ibabaw ki daga; dae lamang kitang mga tawo an nag-eerok digdi.

Kaya mawot kong ipa-girumdom an kaipuhan ikurahaw asin isabi...

"Tabi apo—kami man maki-agi"

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Tale of Sedatephobia: Stridulation beyond Threats, Silence, and Emotions

by : Hazel Abila

Once I heard the ticking of the clock, It’s when I knew that silence would eventually knock.

Noises and empathy seem frozen as rock, Why did not anyone understand this unexplainable shock?

Is it just bad luck or a kind of coincidence?

For the cricket’s stridulation to stop and make sense.

Who am I to witness every consequence?

Of their own distinctive songs and even threats.

It’s also when sounds are off and murmurs begin, Like a downcast decision that makes all things mean.

Feels like a new dimension where silence is din.

And a blank frame that speaks even more like a stain.

For the first time - I thought they were only singing, But later on, that clue turns out not beaming.

How ironic that their silence now becomes so annoying, For me to picture out danger over safe hues and healing.

Cricket’s sounds seem peaceful at night, But now, this reminds me that I am in trouble.

Therefore, how can I control, ignore or take flight?

12 If a fracas of thought hunts my nights and emotions.

Error101 by: Catherine S. Boarao

If you accidentally bite your tongue, this means someone can’t get you off their mind, they said.

I looked around and saw you, smiling at me, a stranger that will completely change my life.

You approached me, and I have let you in, just hearing your name, my knees melted, my heart fell for you like raindrops.

Every word you utter, every breath you take, you’re the book I want to read forever, the song I want to keep playing.

But it is the belief that deceived me, just like your words, you left faster than when you came.

I became a mirror that will never be fixed, you broke me, yet your reflection remained.

I wish I could just bite my tongue forever, so that I can trick my mind for a bit, that it is you, thinking about me.

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Marahuyo

by: Bienvinido C. Ranario III and Rizza B. Morales

I used to stay at my grandparent's house to spend my weekends which is three districts away. I would sneak out in the afternoon to have my little adventure in the forest.

One Saturday, I decided to go and went farther than I usually was always going, simply to say I got lost on my way back.

It wasn't after I realized it's nearing evening until I saw fireflies. I followed them over the maze of trees until a giant Mango tree stood illuminated before me, I was led more than finding. A scenic view with ethereal and dazzling firefly lights.

As I was wandering around and through the scenery as pretty as the ones I see on my fantasy books, behind the tree I saw a tall boy, and finally I found someone whom I could ask for help.

"Are you lost too?" I asked shyly, he looked surprised to see me and seemed to be frantically trying to get away.

"Hey, I just want to ask directions..." voice fading at the end, I asked a little bit worried.

"Walk straight this way and don't turn, it will be quite a walk but it will lead you to a paved path" he told me the way and I was stunned to have gotten home safe and sound.

Why was he there? The way he spoke with certainty makes him seem like he was not lost at all. Ever since then, my weekends have become extra special; there is something, more likely someone whom I can look forward to meeting.

From then on, I try my very best to get lost among the trees to be found again by the now familiar fellow.

"This isn't my real form," my new friend blurted out on another saturday afternoon.

"You're not human? I wonder how you really look like" I asked, genuinely curious. I have only seen creatures not humans in cartoons and other television shows.

"You'll be very very scared and you might be frightened and never want see me again" he began to shift and embody a new form, I was amazed. I have never seen a Tikbal14 ang in my life! He tried to attemp t at many scary poses.

"That's still cool though" I cut in before he makes more scary gestures.

The big mango old tree, dazzling firefly lights, cold breeze, and the cool kind lad. This is like from my favorite movie and the feeling it brought to my heart also the same.

"Can I marry you, mister?" The anticipation builds and I can't breathe.

"I am too old for you" he chuckled lightly; with the light around I could see his face clearly. He is way cooler than those princes,, I like him very much.

"Then I will, when I grow up!" I said, determined.

"I am much, much, more old and it is much, more complicated than you think" he laughed a little louder.

"You see, we are very different, you live in your house and I live here, on this tree. You can go places and run further but I can only be here, in this forest.

This is where I will be and in the future, too and you, you will grow up and see more of the world, to places like your books have." he said calmly, smiling.

"I will still! I'll grow up and marry you. You'll see!" I can't help but cry. It was so sad and so unfair, but it's okay. My mom said that I could do anything if I don't give up. I will prove him wrong.

With my hands on my heart I ran, I caught my breath as I saw the way to my grandma's home and cried more as I walked.

I carried on with my days, plain boring not-Saturdays.

My father went home after a while and bore news of a sudden change.

I was running so fast that I stumbled. No, it wasn't Saturday but I am on my way to see him. As soon as I got there I saw his smiling face.

"Hey, it's too early for Saturday. You've missed me that mu--" he wasn't able to finish his sentence as I hugged him the most tight ever.

"I don't want to, no," my tears began to fall one after the other.

"Hey, calm down, what is it?" he asked, very worried.

"We're moving out soon," even more dismayed now that I have said it out loud.

I delivered the bad news heaving, distressed. I told him we're moving out to a different place where my Dad got hired finally, got a job and settled upon living there.

"I hope to meet you again," downcast eyes, he is sad, too.

He then turned his back, I saw a shining golden strand of hair noticeable over the ebony others.

"Take it" he said, referring to the golden one.

I reached out hesitantly, until I managed to pull it off.

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"Now I am bound to you" smiling knowingly, he held my hands.

"Do not worry about me, I am always here and up till the time you come back" he promises.

The swoosh of the wind that passes and the sounding crinkle of mango leaves tells me that it is true, a rush of relief and here is where I will leave my heart.

"Goodbye! I'll see you soon!" waving goodbye now from the distance looking back and walking until I can't see him anymore, holding on to the golden hair strand on my way to grandma's for what will be the last time in a long while.

Is he still there? I clutch my necklace, where his golden hair is kept and protected. With how many years had gone and passed, I am going back to my old home. Grandma isn't doing well and would inevitably leave us soon. My family decided to go and stay with her in her last moments. I was so preoccupied helping around grandma that I never got the chance to go out, but her last words got me stupefied.

"He's waiting for you" my heart pounded so fast and till that day my mind was never at peace. As soon after grandma's burial waas held a notice was then out about a developing project that would start in a few days.

I then went on my way to see him. He is still there; he looked like he didn't age at all. If he were human he would be around my age.

We only have two days to somehow stop the project. Everything is moving so fast. Little by little the workers are stripping the forest, wild flowers and grasses first.

"Can't you do something? Why don't you curse them, mislead them, delay them or anything?" agitated, I don't know what to do.

"The world is evolving and so do humans. Our efforts will be futile. It will not be long, our kind will cease to exist" the faraway look in his eyes says that he felt hopeless and had long given up.

"Once our realm is destroyed, it's forever" he said with finality, I have lost my will to argue. What are we going to do now?

To the loud sounds of chainsaws and of falling trees, I was brought back from my slew of thoughts, nothing is falling into place. It is nearing daybreak and we were still sitting below the mango tree, guarding it, it must be cut down never. The sounds of machines and falling trees are nearing. I can feel the strong deep rooted dread like aura from him; it really seems like the end.

He was reading through a book frantically, I couldn’t understand. He suddenly held both my hands with his shaking.

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He

started

to

say

things

that

I

couldn't

grasp.

“Hey! Get out of here, this is a private property now! You’re slowing us down” burly workers angrily said as I stood my ground listening carefully to Marahuyo. “... to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'til death do us part, according to God's ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my troth."

Crying, I now have caught on and plied "I do," another tree dropped to the

I

reground

The sounds of machines are a few yards away and soon his tree is the only one standing. It is now my turn to say my vows.

"I, Serein, take thee, Marahuyo, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, ...

The workers are on our tree. ..'til death do us part, according to God's ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my troth." Tears blur my view as they started cutting our tree bit-by-bit.

“What are our way!”

you said

doing there Ma’am? You’re getting in the other worker this time snickering.

"I do," he whispered and I felt the warmth of his lips against mine. Before I could know it, in a blink of an eye, he was gone.

As my tears welled up, I felt the droplets of gemlike creation through my skin. It was the warmth and coldness of rain and the sunny clear sky.

A

rainbow

beautifully

ended

17

our

promise.

Reflection in Ripple by: Daniela Jane E. Talangan

Oh, I used to go up on that hill Grasses and trees are oak in colour The breeze is cold as winter And a well stands at the heart of the tump My thoughts are as dull as the surrounding The wind could blow it all away The coin in my hand, maybe if I toss it down that well It’ll grant me my longest desire So I looked close to it and peeped Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

It echoes loud to my ears I see my reflection dancing in the ripples of water But before I toss my wish with a coin The wind blew harder than it usually would I lost my balance and fell to the ground The coin slipped my hand and it fell to the well—NO!!!

From then on, my reflection became in ripple illustration by:Katrina Lobete

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Hasta Pronto By: Catherine S. Boarao

Tickle, whistle, listen to the crow Every mock is a leap for a bow Superstitious beliefs are all that we know So, who are we to ignore what it shows?

Do not sing while cooking Or else you’ll be crying For the misery of not finding a thing But must all be a pair, right, even the wings?

I listened to what they said To the prayers of the old, I laid Do not sit at the table’s head If you’re unmarried or your love life might be a dread Every rule they uttered; I was afraid to bend Until I met you, my spirit has awakened The prize of my obedience, a life that was conferred Happily, every after, was that what I really prayed?

I listened to them, not breaking any rules align But why am I in this limbo, throwing a dime?

Was it the belief or even the sign?

Or was it purely your heart to choose someone else’s love --------------- other than mine?

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illustration by:Katrina Lobete

Good Food

By Jeramel Marie Llona

I can’t seem to remember the last time we visited this province.

No signal, no Wi-Fi, and muddy roads ─ I grunt with the thoughts of leaving the city and joining them here. I can’t even contact my friends, and update my Facebook story!

“Kaon ug dugang. Adunay labaw pa niini!” my aunt tapped my back as she prepared to leave the table, and encouraged me to continue eating.

“Ang laki laki mo na!”

“Haynako, maayo nga bata ang imong anak nga si nenita!” they said one after the other, trying to get my attention by praising my physical development over time.

Conversations flowed as the night drew slowly until I was left alone on the twelve-seater round table, in this medieval-like home.

“KRINGGGG KRINGGGGG!!!” I heard my phone ring.

Ready to stand and leave my unfinished food on the table, when a resounding “NOOO!!! ” stopped me from taking a step.

It was Lolo Rosario, the caretaker of the house. Even in his old age, he seemed to still walk properly, as though his stamina had not been depleted during his youth.

“Kukunin ko lang po ang cellphone ko, baka emergency” I explained smiling but still perplexed as to why he had stopped me.

He seemed to be edging closer to me, but just then, we heard footsteps and chatting coming from the living room. When I turned around to confront him more, he suddenly disappeared. It was not his ominous aura that scared me, but the last words that were left behind.

“Do not leave your plate on the table.

Because it was like serving food for someone dead”

Watch Out for Mirrors Contributed by: Alfonso Garcia Jr.

Illustration by: Princess Klein Salameda

There exist not one but many superstitions

And they coincidentally sounded like “caution”, But among those ones my child self remembers,

It’s the ones heard in funerals that make me tremble.

I once had my chance when I was a child To visit a dead man who we once hired,

But before we arrived, I was told many things

To ignore and not do, for they hold meanings; I was told not to wear garments flashing red

For it could mean disrespect and anger toward the dead.

I was told, as a child, that I shouldn’t wander around

For it could make ghosts want to bring me on their ground.

“Don’t ever look in mirrors!”, my mother angrily yelled, For it might show the world of ghosts and their tales.

But most of all is to never look at the dead man’s face And play face in the dead man’s coffin case,

For it will make the dead follow and haunt you Everywhere you go and in nightmares too!

I never truly cared about these elderly beliefs

Until I happened to see a mirror where they grieved.

People were crying too but that man was alive!

Staring at me, a mere child in his five.

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Mystical Encounter by: Ysabel Vasquez

Illustration by Sofia Aiumi Osacia

P

eople in the barrio were talking about the prestigious bikini open pageant in the nearby town. Hearing the excitement of the people talking about it, makes me feel the excitement to witness the event. I was 17 years old, and the only choice I have is to be brought by my guardian to be a spectator. Fortunately, I have my mom who always supports me. It was 8 pm the moment when we reached the place.

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Shouting, cheering, and loud music was scattered in every place. The lights are spinning vehemently. The participants are glowing on stage wearing their most stunning bikinis. That night was spectacular. Then suddenly, I felt the roughness in my throat, so I decided to buy water. Just at that moment, I realized that it was already 12 midnight. After grabbing my bottled water, my mom and I decided to go home.

Someone’s phone is ringing, it was my mom’s. She answered it and I could see right after, the frustrations on her face. Our designated driver told us that he cannot pick us up because something went wrong with his motorcycle. Now, my face turned ice. Little by little, the crowd was disappearing.

The only choice that we have is to walk bravely on the impending dark road.

We walked hand-in-hand. Winds are swaying swiftly through our skin. There we reach a spot of full darkness and ahead of us is a single dim street light. I heard my mom mumbling something, then she said “Anak, let’s pray that we cannot see something strange”. I then respond, “what do you mean?”.

Before my mom could answer, I heard loud footsteps nearly approaching us.

But I could not saw(see) who it was because the footsteps are still in the dark spot also approaching the street light ahead of us. “Finally, someone’s here, we can ask for help,” I scream. My happiness didn’t last long as the footsteps struck in the dim light. My mom and I were in shock. I thought the footsteps belong to a person. But to my surprise, it was a pig whose half of its body was covered by mud. I was really frightened because I was sure that what I heard is a footstep of a person. More importantly, the way the pig looked at me and the way it walked past us was just human-like.

Now, I can feel the pressure in my arms, and I saw my mom’s hand squeezing me because of tension and nervousness. “Anak, I think we need to run.” But I stop her. “Why should we run, it was just a pig?” I asked. After saying that, I looked back at the pig. It was still walking straightly. Then I looked again at my mom. See? It was just a pig. Then I looked back again, and the pig was gone. It was just a split second since my second glance. We walked fast as we could. My mom suddenly whispered, “nanuno kami”. By that time I was flustered. It was the first time I have seen mystical as such. A few minutes after, our driver came. Everything happened so fast that I could now only feel is a thick blanket wrapping around my body, and a cold towel pressing on my forehead.

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Dead March by: Bienvinido C. Ranario III

“Wake up, wake up! The black parade will be here soon,” my cousin blurted out. I felt his icy hands, making me shiver.

“Just 5 more minutes,” I replied sleepily.

“Just sleep when as soon as it passes by our house,” he added but instead I slept again I was interrupted and woken up by the loud sound of a knell.

I went downstairs and went to my cousin seemingly sleeping on the couch, how ironic he was waking me up a while ago and now who’s sleeping “Wake up, wake up!” I shake him as strong as I can be but to no avail, the black parade has arrived!

The sound had gotten louder so I went outside, and I saw people in black and white clothes. I hadn’t noticed, I am marching with them.

Marching with the dead souls.

[Must wake up before the black parade pass by your house or it’ll take your soul along with it.]

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TIGSIK

“Pagtubod” -Jeramel Marie Llona-

Magdungog! Magdungog!

Indi magpara binungog bungog, Sa giraray mapaogma nanaman ako, Ngonian mapuon sa malaman na banat ko.

Tigsikon ko pa an mga pamahion sa paglubong, Dae nanggad magdara ki pagkaon sa harong, Isabay man an mga gamit kan nagadan sa kabaong, Asin maghugas ki kamot kan pinakuluang mga dahon.

Midbid an mga bikolano sa pagiging relihiyoso, Bitbit an impluwensiya kan mga kastilyano, Kaipohan na magsunod sa mga pamahion, Hilig man ninda sa kaogmahan nagbabaló, Ta may dara ining ambag sa satuyang Dara an makikintab na abubot sa saindang tradisyon, mga bado.

Kaipohan na isabuhay gabos na leksyon, Mayo man ki basehan, pero may hararom Kadakol na pamahion digdi sa kinaban, na direksyon.

Pero naiiba nanggad digdi sa kabikolan, Nin huli ta sinda igwang pigtutubudan, Gabos kita naoogma sa satong kaaldawan, Pagsunod sa pamahion, tanganing maiMagdakol o diit man an satuyang handaan, wasan an kaarapasan.

Maski pa ngane kita igwang pigpaparasán, Gabos man kita magsasapar ki labis na Tigsikon ko ining mga bagong kasal, kaogmahan.

An saindang pag-ungit ki mahamis na asukar.

Tigsikon ko ining maselebrar kan saiyang An mag-agom na nagsumpaan sa ampankaaldawan, gan kan altar, Dae magsulog ki itom, tanganing mayong Maray na bway an maabot sa saindang kadimalasan, pag-istar.

Dae man magbiyahe sa harayo tanganing maiwasan an kapahamakan, Tinigsik ko ining mag-nobyo asin nobya, Asin dae magbuhat ki magabat tanganing Binuksan an regalong arenola na swerte daa sa buhay dae madipisilan. sainda, Taprakan ki bagas tanganing an bway Tigsikon ko man ining ma-kompleaño, maging masagana, Isaray nanggad an kwartang rinegalo, Tanganing dae madanasan an tios sa buhay Gamiton nanggad sa bagay na sigurado, ninda.

Asin dae pagastuson sa maraot na gibo.

Tigsikon ko man an pamahion sa gadan, Gabos ining pamahion satuyang sunudon, Dae ka magkanta sa hampangan kan kalan, Magtubod ka o dae parte na ini kan kultuTa an saimong agom tulos man mara't tradisyon, gagadan, Kun ika pilosopo asin dakulon pang suhesIning mga pamahion na hararom an kahutiyon, lugan.

Isadiri na sana an haka-haka't reaksyon.

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Illustration by: Katrina Lobete

26

MAYUNG

by: Daniela Jane E. Talangan “ILAAAAYYYY!” Tawag ni Aling Lina sa anak habang nakapamiaran sa labas ng kanilang bahay at may hawak na suklay.

Patakbong umuwi si Ilay at habol-hininga nang makarating sa kanyang nanay, Magulo at lamukos ang buhok, kung tawagin ng kanyang ina ay kalaha at maaring kakitaan ng itlog ng ibon. Kakamot-kamot na lumapit si Ilay kay Aling Lina.

“Naglaro lang kami, nay.” Pabulong na sabi ng bata.

“Ikaw talaga na bata ka! Ang aga-aga nasa kapitbahay ka na agad.” Hayag ng ina habang inaabot ang buhok ng anak upang pasadahan ng suklay. “Hindi ka pa nga man lang nakakapagsuklay at lahat! Nakakahiya kila Aling Puring, halika rito.”

Pilit namang inilalayo ni Ilay ang buhok mula sa ina.

“Ayoko inay!

Masakit!”

Subalit nahawakan ni Aling Lina ang braso ni Ilay at hindi na nga nakapalag pa ang bata. Patuloy pa rin sa pagkamot sa kaniyang ulo si Ilay habang sinusubukan siyang suklayan ng kanyang ina.

“Huwag ka kasing malikot para maayos ko ang pagsuklay sa buhok mo.” Reklamo ng ina.

“Dahan-dahan lang po nay, masakit!” pakiusap naman ni Ilay.

Kumalma nang bahagya si Ilay dahil hindi naman gaanong marahas ang pagsuklay ng kanyang ina, subalit nagulat siya sa biglang usal nito.

“Dios mio!

Bakit ang dami mong kuto?!” natataranta at bahagyang nandidiring tanong ni Aling Lina.

Madalas na nagpupunta sa kapitbahay si Ilay at halos araw-araw silang magkakasama ng kanyang mga kalaro. Marahil ay doon niya nga nakuha ang mga kuto niya sa ulo, panay kasi ang hiraman nila ng suklay dahil nga hindi nagsusuklay si Ilay bago umalis sa kanilang bahay.

“Sabi ko na nga ba’t kalaha na ang ulo at buhok mo! Tingnan mo at puro na itlog.” Puna ng ina habang isa-isang inaalis ang nakahilerang lisa sa bawat hibla ng buhok ni Ilay.

27

“ARAAAAYYY!!!”

Impit na sigaw ni Ilay habang patuloy na inaalis ni Aling Lina ang mga lisa.

“Tama na po, nay.”

Makaawa pa nito na mangiyak-iyak na marahil ay sa sakit ng anit.

“Aalisin natin ‘to kung ayaw mong dalhin ka ng mga kuto mo sa Mayung.” Pagbabanta ni Aling Lina. Hindi naman nakinig si Ilay at tumakbo paalis at pabalik sa kapitbahay.

Kinagabihan, mahimbing nang natutulog si Ilay sa kanilang papag at may kulambo na rin nang makaramdam siya ng kung anong gumagapang sa kanyang ulo pababa sa kanyang mga braso. Naalimpungatan si Ilay. Nang maaninag na niya ng mabuti kung ano ang mga gumagapang sa kanyang katawan, siya ay natakot at kinabahan.

“AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!

KUTOOOOOO!!!!” sigaw ng bata habang pilit na pinapagpag ang mga kuto sa kanyang ulo at katawan. Subalit napakarami nito upang matanggal niya ng mag-isa.

“INAAAAY! Tulungan niyo po ako!” sigaw ni Ilay subalit tila walang nakakarinig sa kanya. Sinubukan niyang lumabas mula sa kulambo subalit bigal na lamang siyang umangat at lumutang na tila binubuhat ng kung ano.

ANG MGA KUTO! Biglang nagbalik sa alaala ni Ilay ang sinabi ng kanyang ina, “Aalisin natin ‘to kung ayaw mong dalhin ka ng mga kuto mo sa Mayung.”

Nabuhay muli ang takot at kaba sa dibdib ni Ilay, “Baka nga totoo ang sinasabi ni inay.” Tahimik na reyalisasyon ni Ilay sa kanyang isipan.

Nag-pumiglas si Ilay hanggang sa mahulog siya sa matigas na bagay.

Sahig! Agad na nangapa si Ilay, at tama nga! Bumagsak siya sa sahig.

“HALA! Anong ginagawa mong bata ka?” Nagtatakang tanong ni Aling Lina sa anak, nagising ito ng makarinig ng kalabog mula sa papag ni Ilay.

“Nay! ALISIN MO PO! Alisin mo ang mga kuto sa ulo ko!” may halong takot na pagmamakaawa ni Ilay sa ina.

Tinulungan ni Aling Lina na makatayo ang anak, bahagya pa itong natawa sa reaksiyon ni Ilay at muli na silang bumalik sa pagkakatulog.

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He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not by: Bienvinido C. Ranario III

I was too young to know to understand the concept of love. Through the language of flowers I can know.

My friend taught me a trick, she told me to pick a flower and let the flower decide. Every plucked petal must utter the words, “Loves me," and after another petal "loves me not” "He loves me, he loves me not" I like arts. You like sports. We’re two contradicting concepts. I tried my best to excel in everything I do, in hopes of being noticed by you. I admit every unexpected simple gesture you made, make my heart skip a beat.

Illustration by: Angelique Anne Rebancos

"He loves me, he loves me not" Material gifts couldn't hide it all, what I need is some affection. It must be I love him and he loves me some- because I'm not like you or either them. I times, as I look at myself in the mirror. think the frigid air said it all.

But I love him more. Papa where did I go wrong?

Does it have to be this hard because you are different? "He loves me not, he loves me" I whisI wonder what you see when you pered. Finally! For the first time and the look at me. Do you despise me? What last time, I got the answer that I long to should I do? Should I be the person hear. Will it still matter? what I want to be or what people want For the last plucked petal is the last to see? breathe I took.

Despite it all, I still long for his love. [Plucking of petals represents the truth between the object of their affection "He loves me, he loves me not" loving them or not] 29

LIMANG BUHAY KO by: Catherine S. Boarao

Ito ang pangako ko sa’yo, mahal Kahit sa mga susunod kong buhay, ikaw pa rin ang pipiliin ko Pero huwag kang mag-alala, Tayo ay magsasama hanggang sa pagtanda Hindi tayo mapaghihiwalay ng kamatayan Akala ko, Hindi na matutupad ang mga pangako mo, Ngunit, Sa harap ng Diyos at ng tao Nangako ka, at nangako ako Tayong dalawa ay magsasama habang buhay, Sa hirap at ginhawa, Sabi mo, sinabi mo, Na sa tunog ng kampana, tayong dalawa’y manunumpa Dapat walang bibitaw Nawalan man ng apoy ang kandila sa tabi ko, Sukob daw ito Biglang naapakan ang aking belo Kaya hindi tayo naniwala sa mga sabi nila, Mahal na mahal natin ang isa’t isa Masayang-masaya tayo, hinalikan mo ako Ito ang araw na pinakahihintay nating dalawa, diba?

Marami tayong magiging anak, Magpapatayo tayo ng bahay, Bibili tayo ng sasakyan, Sabi mo, Nangako ka sa akin Marami pa tayong pangarap para isa’t isa, Bakit kailangan ang kabaliktaran ang mangyari sa ating dalawa?

(Basahin pataas) 30

Illustration by: Michael Beato

Payong

Maikling Kwento ni: Juarence C. Sergio

Dumungaw ako sa bintana para masilayan ang pag-buhos ng malakas na ulan. Sa may di-kalayuan ay may natanaw akong anino. Hindi ko man nakilala sa unang tingin pero batid kong ito’y si Ate, nagmamadaling tumatakbo upang sunduin ako sa klase.

Sabi ko na nga ba. Siya nga! Di ako nagkamali. Sinalubong naman ako ng kaniyang mainit na ngiti, na tumagos naman sa nanlalamig at basa kong kaatawan. “Kanina ka pa ba diyan? pambungad niyang tanong sa akin.

Sinabayan naman ito ng matalim na kidlat, dahilan upang mapayakap ako kay Ate sa pagka-gulat.

Habang ang iba ay nagkubli sa kani-kanilang kinatatayuan kami naman ni Ate, nagsimula ng maglakad pauwi. Matulin ang aming pagkilos dahil paunti-unting tumutulo ang tubig sa tagpi ng aming payong na ilang taon ng nagseserbisyo sa’ming magkapatid. Sanay kaming magka-bahagi sa lahat dahil hindi ganoon karangya ang buhay namin; sanay kaming magkasukob sa payong na tumutupi kapag umiihip ang malakas na hangin.

Lumipas ang mga taon, kapwa kami ng Ate ay tumuntong na sa tamang edad upang mag-asawa. Kung noon ay sa payong lamang kami magka-sukob. Ngayon, sa kasal na.

Marami ang kumontra sa aming mga planong napagdesisyunan, kasama ang aming mga kaparehang napusuan. Wika ng iba ang sukob sa kasal ay magdadala raw sa amin ng kamalasan. “Taon dapat ang pagitan hindi buwan” pagpapatotoo naman ng iilan. Pero pareho kaming di nagpatinag; kapwa di napigilan.

Sukob sa payong ang nagpatatag sa aming samahan. Doon ko napatunayang kidlat man ang kaharapin, si Ate hinding-hindi ako iiwan. Ngayong magka-sukob man sa kasal, alam kong si Ate di ako pababayaan. Sanay kaming suungin ang pag-subok ano man ang kahantungan. Dahil sa sukob aking napagalaman, ang tunay na kamalasan ay ang kawalan ng pamilyang masasandalan.

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Illustration by: Kobe Jasper Gabion

Stolen Identity by: Micaela Ann M Llenas

“I smell sweet roses”, Brianna said as she woke up, finding where the fragrance came from, she was pleased with what she saw in front of her bed. It was her fiancé holding a bouquet of Roses, as his fiancée greeted her with a smile that started making her feel the butterflies in her stomach.

“So how is my charming soon-to-be wife?”, Brian said as he can’t stop smiling that they were getting married, two days ago from now. As it was her fiancé’s last visit to her condominium to prepare for the wedding. “You don’t have to be exhilarated about it, I am afraid my heels will break, I’m nervous”. Brianna bothered.

Time was ticking fast, as Brian waved goodbye and kissed her on the forehead.

Although they cannot see each other before the wedding or it will show a sign of bad luck at the wedding, Brianna can’t hide her happiness being tied to her loving fiancé but taking the consequence of being far away from his fiancée is what she can’t do.

The night before the wedding, she went to Brian’s condominium. Working on his blueprints for the presentation. “It’s good to see you working hard love”, Brianna said to her fiancé holding the duplicate keys in her hands but his fiancée was enraptured by what she did as he told her. “Love we are supposed to follow our beliefs or else the wedding 32

Illustration by: Sergio, Juarence C.

will be bad luck”, Brian exclaimed. “How about a kiss love, then I will leave and sleep early”, Brianna chuckled and left his fiancée’s condominium giggling.

On the wedding day the guests began arriving at the Cathedral, waiting for the bride, “Everyone we shall start in a few seconds the bride is here”, the Wedding coordinator shouted.

The ceremony started with a glimpse of waiting for the door to open, everyone was awed and surprised by the bride walking down the aisle as she reached the groom. Suddenly, someone shouted by the door. Everyone was shocked by the appearance of the bride stabbed with a knife in her head making everyone panic. “Brian that’s not me I’m the real Brianna sh-she is pos–sessed, the old belief was true”, Brianna crawled and lost her breath.

“How dare you! Brianna! No! Who are you!? What did you do to my wife?” Brian said attempting to escape but the impostor stopped her smirking “Shut up darling! She is the impostor! I am the Original! so tell the Priest to continue the Ceremony or she will suffer!”. As she pointed out to Brianna. Immediately, the Priest courageously gave Brian the holy water and threw it at the impostor. Finally, it ended as Brian realized she was not wearing the ring and ran to Brianna; dead crying while holding her in his arms.

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Illustration by: Bobby Domdom Jr.

Trahe de Boda

N

ni: Daniela Jane E. Talangan

akatitig ako sa isang dilag na sa unang sulyap ay ‘di ko lubos mamukhaan. Balingkinitan na katawan, hugis puso na mukha, manipis na labi at mapupungay na mga matang kulay kape. Siya’y nakatitig pabalik sa akin at sa wari ko’y sinusuri din ang aking kawangisan; mahabang puting baro at mga puting laso. Umikot ako at pinagmasdan kung gaano kaganda ang pagsabay ng tela sa saliw ng aking balakang, muli kong nilingon ang binibini at ito’y nakangiti, nakangiti sa akin ang binibini sa salamin. ‘Kay aliwalas kung pagmasdan ang trahe de boda na sabik na sabik ko ng masilayan sa araw na aking pinkahihintay.

Sa wakas ay akin nang masasabi, na sa hinaba-haba nga naman daw ng prusisyon ay sa simbahan din ang tuloy. Hindi mawaksi sa aking labi ang matatamis na ngiti, galak ay wala ring mapagsidlan sa aking dibdib. Natagpuan na nga ang matagal ko nang hinahanap; ang kukumpleto sa tahanang aking binubuo, ang pupuno sa patlang upang pangungusap ay mabuo, 34

at makakasama ko sa habang-buhay na ito. Ilang araw na lang, nais ko nang hilahin ang kamay ng orasan.

Huni ng mga ibon mula sa nakabukas na bintana ang sumalubong sa aking umaga, naamoy ko kaagad ang aroma ng kapeng gawa sa tinutong na bigas, at ang mga malulumanay na boses ng mga tao mula sa labas ng silid.

Batid kong abala ang lahat, kaya’t ako’y dahan-dahang nag-unat at bumaba mula sa kama, sa salamin ako’y muling humarap, pilit na hinagilap ang imahe ng binibining mula sa araw na ito ay magiging kabiyak na ng lalaking tinatangi ng kaniyang puso. Ngunit sa aking pagtataka, hindi ako makakita ng anumang bakas ng tuwa o saya sa repleka na aking nakikita, biglang daga sa dibdib ay nakawala at bumagabag ang kanina ay kalmadong pakiramdam.

Tunog ng kampana sa aking tenga ay parang isang nakaririnding tunog na nais kong takasan. Sa loob ng simbahan isa-isa kong nadatnan ang mga taong sasaksi sa aming sumpaan, pag-iisang dibdib na sana ay panghabang-buhay. Ngunit habang ako ay naglalakad patungo sa altar, ang mahabang puting baro ay nagkaroon ng mantsa na kulay dugo, agad akong napahinto, mga paa ko’y nangatog at tila nanlambot. “Itigil ang kasal!” siyang sigaw ng isang pamilyar na tinig mula sa aking likuran, nilingon ko ito at halos lahat kami ay napasinghap sa takot, ang aking ginoo ay naroon, hawak ng lalaking nagmamay-ari ng tinig, nakagapos at naghihingalo, balot ng dugo ang kulay puti nitong kamiseta at barong.

“Buhay ng lalaking ‘to o kasal na pinangarap mo?” Napako ako sa aking kinatatayuan, walang umiimik o humihingi ng tulong man lang, lahat ay parang huminto. Ang lalaking noon ay minsan ko ring inibig at kasamang nangarap, kasabay na bumuo ng mga masasayang alaala, minsa’y nangakong haharap sa dambana at sa aki’y susumpa ng habang-buhay subalit sa kalagitnaa’y napagod at sumuko. “Amando…” sambit ko at kasabay nito ay ang paglambot ng kaniyang reaksyon. “Catalina…” sing-banayad ng dagat ang pagkakabigkas niya sa pangalang kay tagal ko na ring hindi naririnig. “Huwag mong gawin ‘to, alam kong mabuti kang tao.” Pilit ko siyang kinumbinsi subalit muling humigpit ang pagkakahawak niya sa aking kasintahan. “Kung ‘di ka mapapasaakin, walang sino man ang sa iyo ay aangkin!” Tatlong putok ng baril ang aking huling narinig bago ako antukin at tuluyang napapikit.

35

Straw in the wind by: Farah Mae M. Miranda

“Glad we can go home now!” I whispered to Monica as our meeting was dismissed. It’s been a long hour of talks regarding all the plans for our upcoming swimming and Team building as well. I went home as quickly as possible. As I got into the house I slouch on the couch. I couldn’t even notice the sun was setting. I rush into the balcony to take a glimpse of the sunset. As I stared, I felt strange and I couldn’t explain why. I looked at the sunset and realized that among all of the sunsets I’ve watched today is the strangest and saddest view I’ve ever seen.

I decided to go back inside for a cup of tea and relaxed after a long tiring day.

As I was about to leave, I heard a cat crying just behind the fence of our house.

One cry was followed by numerous cries. I was goose-bumped. There are a lot of them, all in black fur. “How strange!” I sighed.

As the darkness covered the entire town, I threw myself into the couch and just took a nap instead. “Who are you? Don’t come near me! Please… don’t!”

I cried as I shivered with fear. Someone is slowly approaching, someone I just could barely imagine who it was but as it comes nearer and nearer, I gaped as its image drew the scariest vision into my eyes! “Was…was it me?” I whispered.

I was awakened by the ravenous howl from the mountain’s peak. I was bathed with my own sweat that it seems like I’d just got into a race. My chest felt a little bit tighter. I was still shocked by what I had just seen in my dream. I still couldn’t believe what I saw. Who couldn’t get scared of seeing yourself headless? It wasn’t a dream, after all, it was a nightmare!

A fortnight passed quickly. Today is the day of what is called “Friday the 13th ‘’’. The odd occurrence still gives me the spine-chilling effect. It was my Lola Annie whom I always remember whenever I encounter such things. To free myself from thinking about it, I tried to ignore and forget all of it. “Maybe it was just a coincidence that it happened on the same day,” I mumbled. I spent most of my days preparing all of the stuff I wanted to bring to our team building. I bought some new bikinis and a pair of slippers.

It is only a couple of days ahead; all of my stuff is well prepared. I am so excited about our trip! I called Monica that day to ask if she was all set up. I couldn’t help to talk about the scary happenings two weeks ago. “Are you serious?”

36

asked Monica. “Yes, I am!” I answered. “Look, Eva, don’t you think it’s a sign that something bad might happen?” Monica replied. “What are you trying to say? That I must not go with you on the trip? No freaking way!” I screamed as I dropped the phone call.

“Poor Monica, still believing in those old sayings.” I can’t even sleep the night before our trip. I am just so excited to feel the warm breeze of the wind along the seashore.

Today is the day of our trip! Everyone enthusiastically settled themselves in the van. I still ignored Monica for what she’d told me the previous day. All I want is to enjoy our stay and indulge myself in all the things I wanted to do.

It took us 5 hours to reach our destination.

What a marvelous and breathtaking view! It was a white sand beach resort with a magnificent panorama of the whole Island. After a few hours of chit-chats with my colleague, I walk by the seashore and warm myself under the 28-degree sun rays. Suddenly, I saw Monica sitting alone under the coconut tree nearby the shore. I felt guilty keeping out of her company. I sit beside her and give her a smile. “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s alright. Maybe you’re right, I am just overreacting.” She answered with a kind smile.

We had so much fun we built sand castles, went swimming, played various sets of games and splashed each other we were having the best time ever! Until I went for another swim and I didn’t realize how far out I was. By that time my feet began to hurt, I could barely move and kicked my feet. I guess I had a cramp. I felt so much pain and was frightened by the gigantic waves. I tried to call out for help but nobody could hear me. “Help!” Help me please!” I cried. I am tired. My feet couldn’t even get along for me to take a move out of my spot. I feel so helpless. I was now fighting alone in the middle of nowhere. All alone. I’m tired. I suddenly noticed the sun was setting. I smiled a little, thinking that at least on the last day of my life I would witness my favorite sanctuary of the day until the memory of the nightmare flashed into my mind. My tears flow along the water. The last thing I could do was close my eyes and accept my fate. As a huge wave swallowed me, I freely embraced the darkness and let my heartbeat for the last time. Along with the sunset, my body submerged at the bottom of the sea.

37

Illustration by: Katrina Lobete

Premonition’s Eye

by: Bienvinido C. Ranario III and Rizza B. Morales

The day is coming to an end, but my heart feels warm and happy. We went out to celebrate my birthday and our anniversary. My boyfriend and I are now on our way home.

I can still remember the day and how we met, it was quite funny and momentous. It was my birthday a few years back – I was stopped from reminiscing as the car made a screeching halt.

"What happened?" as I gaze at the middle of the road.

In front of the car sat a black cat.

We shooed it away and continued on the road.

We reached home and bid goodbyes.

"Let's break up." before I could step out the car he muttered, his head hang low.

"What? I don't understand. What do you mean?"

"I am not happy and I can't go on like this anymore,.. it's not working" "That's ridiculous! we we were just having fun awhile ago.."

"I'm sorry, it's just me who need to figure things out" he left as soon I closed the car door.

It I I

was

so

sudden.

I

went am am

inside 38

with

a

heavy heart. confused. dumbfounded.

I am furious and clueless. As soon as I entered my room, I cried my heart out and drifted off to sleep from exhaustion.

The next morning, I opened the window and then saw the black cat.

I was about to shove it away when I heard my mom scream in pain.

We went to the hospital, we were told she has an illness that she's been enduring for long, we now belatedly know. She was hospitalized. I was so preoccupied with papers and documents for the hospital that I missed something big from my work that I forgot to stay informed about my affiliation. When mom felt somehow better, I left her at the hospital and went back to work. On my way to my work, I saw a black cat yet again. A terrible day lies ahead, I said to myself. I was fired.

Since then, the hate for black cats started to I blame it for every misfortune I stumbled

grow. upon.

I focused on taking care of Mom, she's in the process of healing and so am I from the emotional turmoil the past days piled heavy.

Soon enough mom was dismissed. Mom had recovered and was to help her maintain her healthy habits. We're told that we're lucky enough to have prevented it sooner or it could have become worse.

Soon, I discovered that my ex-boyfriend was getting married, he's been cheating on me all this time. Days later, I got the news that the company I worked for was closed due to some illegal alliances.

From all this satisfying news, I saw the black cat again.

My hate had turned into gratitude.

It's been warning me all this time.

A premonition.

That's when I decided to take care of it. Our misfortune can be so ill and abysmal but sometimes it can be for something greater. We don't have the right to blame it on others We don't have to blame others for our misfortune and tragedies, especially a black cat.

[Black

cat

brings

39

bad

luck]

Illustration by: Jan Clyde Napiri 40

Luna

-Jeramel Marie Llona“It’s beautiful,” I said.

My fingers run through the glass cover of this shabby old painting. All I can see is a beautiful maiden with silky white skin, and mesmerizing chocolate brown eyes. Her hair flows like a curve of the waves and freckles on her chin that can be seen from a mere distance. She is dressed in a nude pink color chiffon off-shoulders gown that falls to her bare feet. Her smile shines as bright as the moon, as she runs after a young man.

“She cursed her husband. Where’s the beauty in that?” Zayn scoffed at me.

“Everything...Everything is wonderful,” I scowled vehemently as I regarded him. I had to admit, the tale of the moon-dwelling goddess who guards the lovely river of La Paradisus is insanely tragic and heartbreaking. Just as how she would direct light to cause things like fish to multiply, trees to yield fruit, the wind to blow, and the river to flow. How she would throw darkness into every deadly battle that attempts to ruin the land she owned.

“Clearly, we are drawn to anything that makes us feel greater, riches, gold, comfort, a luxurious lifestyle—name it! Who would even prefer these conveniences above trouble and distress?” We continued to listen to his lecture. He looks calloused, frail and old enough to teach in the university. But somehow, I was confused with the feeling of familiarity. I shifted my seat uncomfortably as he seemed to directly land his eyes to mine.

“The Goddess of the Moon gave up everything she had to make Dan happy.

But he was never contented. He used her. He never loved her at all,” he continued.

“Legend has it to this day that the goddess took her revenge when Dan tried to leave the river. She waited for many years, but he never came back.

Up until that point, the community’s only source of water—the river—had dried up, signaling her death. She died gazing at the moon and chanted that

41

anyone who will look at the light of each full moon will never recover from their illness, be blinded, and even die lonely,” Gaela whispered at me, adding to what the guest professor said.

I lowered my head when I felt a tiny pang in my chest remembering the melancholic smile of Prof. Reidan. I washed off some thoughts, thinking of that eye contact as unintentional and accident, since he was said to have congenital blindness.

“Earth to Luna? He called your name,” she snapped at my face as I seemed to get lost in my thoughts.

“Years ago, the story was hailed as one of the finest love stories, but it was never published because of objections. Do you believe it should still be regarded as one even if all we heard was the boy’s betrayal and the goddess’s vengeance?” he asked. I stood up. They all looked at me in anticipation of my response, but I’m at a loss.

“If she was a true goddess, she should know that there was life beside the river. She was selfish.”

“He should have stayed if he loved him,” they said one after the other.

I sighed, trying to contain myself. “They both loved each other,” I said loudly as my words conveyed my thoughts. They all looked at me with puzzled looks. “She showered him with gifts, not to cage him in the river but for him to live to see another day. She saw how the boy would always look up to the moon, silently praying for food and rain so he could drink. She saw the boy fight to survive in the mountains, and by the time he needed to make a decision between killing the deer and picking the apple, he still chose the latter.”

I continued even though I, myself, did not know where these words came from. “Dan adored the river even after his almost death. He digs up days and nights for the water to flow and reach the dry lands of the forest. He took care of everything connected to it.”

“Then… if he really loved her, why did he leave the river?” asked Mr. 42

Reidan.

I sighed before continuing my remarks. “We all have different ways to show our love for each other, and if giving and sacrificing wasn’t even enough, then what should we call it?”

They were stunned with all that I’ve said and seemed to try to absorb my litanies.

“He left because it was the best thing he could do for her. He had to lose those people who had this plan to use her at their own expense. So yes, he left by the means of protecting her. But when he came back, it was already too late,” I said weakly.

I turned to the painting in front. Her eyes… It speaks of love, like the one we rarely give. All I can say is they are indeed for each other, as if they were created to be together. That was the kind of love they have; the love that waits, and the love that comes back.

“But do you know what’s the greatest form of love Dan did to the goddess?”

I asked them as despair slowly creeps me.

They all looked confused, but I turned my attention to the man in front who appeared to have spent more than half of his life waiting for this day.

“It is when he willingly accepted her grudge and waited all the cycles and phases of the moon… until he lost his sight.”

43

MASID

By: Alvin Rebutiaco “Katahimikan ang bumabalot sa aming lugar tuwing papatak ang alas-sais ng gabi - dito nakakubli ang mapupulang mata sa taas ng punong pinalilubutan ng mga alitaptap” ‘’Maaari na ba akong umuwi?’’, tanong ko sa aking guro. Ang aming tirahan ay sa gitna pa ng makahoy na lugar at kung ito’y aking lalakarin simula sa paaralan ay aabutin ako ng gabi.

Dali-dali kong hinablot ang aking bag at lumabas ng silid-aralan pagkatapos akong pahintulutan ng aking guro sa Filipino; nakakaramdam ako ng takot at ‘tila may kutob na maaabutan kong lumiwanag ang punong kinatatakutan ng lahat: ang puno ng talisay, ang pinaniniwalaang tahananan ng kapre.

Kung makikita mo lamang ako, marahil, ihahalintulad mo ako sa isang tigre dahil sa sobrang bilis kong tumakbo. Ganyan na ang aking kalakaran sa tuwing ang hanging mula sa mga punong nakatanim sa kagubatan ay dumadampi sa aking balat. Nangangahulugan na naman kasi na kakaharapin ko na naman ang nakakakilabot na huni ng mga ibon, ang mga kawayang tila yumuyuko sa tuwing ako’y dadaan at ang mga alitaptap na sa pakiwari ko’y ilaw ng isang nilalang na nagbabalatkayo at kumakanlong sa mga insektong ito upang ikubli ang mapupula nitong mga mata.

Sa aking matulin na pagtakbo, di maalis sa aking isip ang laging kwento ni inay na huwag na huwag akong lalapit sa talisay kapag ito’y maliwanag na. Maaaring magambala ko raw ang kapre at kapag ito’y nabugnot ay dadakpin daw ako nito.

Mga sampung minuto na lang ay makakauwi na ko ng bahay nang biglang bumuhas ang malakas na ulan. Wala akong dalang payong at balak kong magpabasa na lamang subalit, kaakibat nang malakas na ulan ay ang napakalakas na kulog. Sa kabila ng takot, napagdesisyunan kong sumilong muna sa isang puno ng mangga at doo’y hintaying humina ang ulan.

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Ilang minuto na lamang ay papatak na ang alas sais, subalit, di parin humihinto ang ulan. Nanginginig na ako sa takot na baka makita ko ang dapat di ko makita.

Agad akong tumakbo – napaka bilis na dahilan ng aking pagkadulas.

Hindi ko maigalaw ang aking mga paa. Hindi dahil sa napilayan ako, ito ay dahil sa pagkatapos kong buksan ang aking mga mata, tumambad sa akin ang puno ng talisay na napapalibutan na ng mga alitaptap.

Pinilit kong tumayo sa kabila ng pagkasindak. Subalit sa bawat hakbang na aking gagawin, bumabalik lamang ako sa pwesto kung saan ako nadulas. Tila nawawala ang daanang dapat ay tinatahak ko upang makauwi ng bahay. Ang lahat ay umiikot na tila nagpapahiwatig na sa ibang dako na ako at di nako makakaalis.

Sumigaw ako nang napakalakas, nagbabakasakaling may makarinig sa akin.

Habang tumutulo ang aking luha, agad akong hinablot ng isang nilalang na pagkalaki-laki at nakakatakot – may mahahabang kuko na maihahalinulad ko sa isang bagong gawang itak sa talim, may mahabang basbas, ngipin na tila gusto akong nguyain at may mga matang kulay pula.

Di ako makasalita. Ako’y nanginginig, maging ang aking mga luha ay nais bumalik sa aking mga mata. Sa aking pagkasindak ay nawalan ako ng malay. Marahil ito na ang aking katapusan.

Lumayo ka sa akin! Malakas kong sigaw habang ako’y humahagulgol. Isa-isa kong Inaalis ang mga kamay na nakahawak sa akin.

‘Gumising ka anak at isang malakas na sampal ang dumampi sa aking pisngi’ Sa isang malakas na sampal galing kay nanay, ako’y nagising. Pagod na pagod ang mga mata at namamalat na ang aking boses. Sabay kong niyakap ang aking nanay at tatay.

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Siguro, nagtataka sila bat ko sila niyakap sa kabila ng sampal na binigay sa akin ni inay. Subalit, nagpapasalalamat ako na dahil sa isang sampal, ako’y napukaw sa isang bangungot na kailanma’y hinding-hindi ko gugustuhin na ulit ay kaharapin.

Tumayo na ako sa aking kinahihigaan nang naamoy ko ang kamoteng niluto ni inay bilang miryenda. Sabay-sabay kaming pumunta sa lamesa. Sa pagtayo namin nang sabay-sabay, dito nasisiguro ko na ang liwanag na bumabalot sa amin ay pagmamahal, hindi ang mga aliptaptap sa isang nakakapangilabot na panaginip.

PADANG

By: Catherine S. Boarao

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Illustration by: Katrina Lobete

It was five in the afternoon when I went to our usual place. Mang Kanor is an old man and usually talks about a lot of things. He is a great man sharing great stories to me under this mango tree. “Iho, kumusta ka?” Mang Kanor asked me while I was approaching. “Ayos lang po.

Tinapos ko muna ang mga gagawin ko para makapunta rito,” I exclaimed joyfully. “Ah edi mabuti kung ganyan. Mag-aral kang mabuti para palagi kang papayagan pumunta rito,” he said. I have always loved going here, hearing words of wisdom from this old man. Two hours went too fast that I did not realize that it was already time for me to go home.

“Ay Mang Kanor, aalis na po pala ako. Aalis po kasi kami,” I told him as a sign of my bid of goodbye for this night. “Saan kayo pupunta Bolet?” he asked. “Ah pupunta po kasi kami sa burol ng kapatid ni nanay,” I answered. “Oh siya, sige na humayo ka na para di ka mapagalitan ng nanay mo.”

But when I was about to leave, Mang Kanor grabbed my arm gently, making me panic for a bit. “Bolet, may tugon ako para sa’yo at sana huwag mo itong kakalimutan. Huwag kang makikipag-usap sa patay kung ayaw mong sundan ka niya,” he said out of nowhere. I cannot describe the expression he had on his face. Was it fear? Worry? Pain?

Nervousness? When I was at my aunt’s funeral, Mang Kanor’s words keep lingering on my mind, it echoes that it nearly made me deaf.

Never talk to the dead.

The night passed and nothing out of the ordinary happened. On the following day, I went again under the mango tree, and there I saw Mang Kanor sitting there like he is thinking about something deeply. I sometimes wonder where he lives, where his family is, or what work he does. Yet I always forget about this whenever he starts talking about things. And, every time I remember asking him, he dodges every question I throw at him.

Today, he told me about the story that happened in Padang. Mang Kanor told me that on November 30, 2006, the Bicol region was wreaked by the “Bagyong Reming”, and one-thousand five hundred 47

people died. He said that during midnight many lost souls still wander around the place, thinking they are still alive, looking for their loved ones. You can hear cries, shouts of agony, and even mourning, asking for help. Mang Kanor said that he was once having good times with his friends before the great flood happened. An old maiden approached them asking for water, when he was about to give a glass of water to the lady, one of his friends said, “kulang pa nga itong tubig sa amin tapos hihingi ka pa?” The old lady looked at them and said, “huwag kayong mag-alala dahil bukas padadalhan ko kayo ng maraming tubig”.

“Ano ba yan Mang Kanor nakakatakot naman ng kuwento mo. Gabi pa naman na. Sige na po aalis na ako, alas otso na eh, bukas naman,” I told him. He just shrugged and waved goodbye.

“Bolet saan ka na naman pupunta?” my nanay asked me when I passed by her at our sala. “Pupunta po ako sa may puno ng mangga inay,” I answered hurriedly because I want to finish the story of Mang Kanor.

Yet she immediately answered, “magpahinga ka na, pagod ka sa klase.

Bukas na lang kung gusto mo.” “Pero inay, kailangan ko pong makita si Mang Kanor. Ngayon niya po tatapusin kuwento niya eh.” With these words, I saw my mother’s eyebrows meet each other. It was as if I said something uncanny.

“Mang Kanor? Sino yun?” she asked. “Si Mang Kanor po. Yung matanda pong palagi kong kausap simula Grade 8 ako,” I responded.

“Papanong may matanda doon kung palagi ka naming nakikitang naglalaro at nagsasalita sa may puno ng manga nang mag-isa?” With that, I never went to that place ever again.

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Oro Plata Mata -Jeramel Marie Llona-

Golds embellished in reflective ways Nth’s of millions, they truly embrace The luxury to meditate in a balcony bestows Poise up darling!

Chin up, Butt in ― Down the staircase we go.

“Kring Kring Kring” The clock bellows Alarmed and scared, the sun said hello.

Silver treats with all these money “Put down your mask, Ms. Congeniality” A shot in the corner, people start buzzing Red carpet on the floor, man is lying.

These bars can’t seem to pay a fortune’s smile Oh, Bad Luck! Bad Luck! On staircase and aisle The chant repeats as a word is a step Be cautious on three, Mata is Death.

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Illustration by: Princess Klein Salameda 50

Wishing Well

by: Bienvinido C. Ranario III Looking so pale Oh, sweet little pill no longer make me well soon be hearing sounds of knell Wishy-washy wishful me, I believe of what I cannot see Of all the wishes of a well and wishing wells, I plead to be healed and no longer feel ill Looking too frail Oh, vividly in vain Life could never be veiled soon enough my body will fail Carrying the burden Of all of my sins, A scene I have never foreseen the price of my undoing Wishy-washy wistful me, Hence these tears flow freely If the deity would be pleased, Blessed, grant my wish I doubt if I offer this coin would be enough, Cry from the heart, I can pour my blood Would I soon stand firm?

Would it make me more tough?

For a shiny, meager change, Could you give genuine eternal bliss?

Could you end this never-ending suffering?

Of all the wishes of well and wishing wells, To the earthly life I hope to never yet bid farewell.

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Illustration by: Joede Symon Belen 52

Bulong

Ni: Farah Mae M. Miranda

Marahan kong ipinikit ang aking mga mata.

Muling nilamon ng dilim.

Pilit na kumakawala sa malagim na kahapon.

Walang katapusang pagbabalik tanaw sa nakalipas, “kung naniwala na lamang sana ako”, tugon ko sa sarili habang paunti- unting binabalot ng walang hanggang pagsisisi.

Sa harap ng malaheganteng puno, itinanim ang poot at galit, Dinilig ng walang humpay na agos ng luha, Namukadkad ang pagsusumamo.

“Kung saiyo ko lamang ba binaggit ang laman ng aking panaginip noon, maari kayang kapiling ko pa ang aking matalik na kaibigan?”

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NIGHTMARE Anonymous

Illustration by: Angelique Anne Rebancos

Running away from the scene is a thriller You were after me, you’re a psycho killer The road is hell like a deadly fever The night is crazier Car crashes and burning bodies Engine bursts and a little blood on me Injured ankle but adrenaline’s funny The night is crazier Run they say, the killer is behind me Afraid of looking back at these images Been imagining clear mirages 54

Searching for deserted villages When the blood is dripping from my jacket I’m about to die though the end is still not said Growling sound of the night of the dead The night is crazier Playing hide-and-seek is a fun game But when your life is at stake and in pain You’re pretty sure that it’s not the same And the night is crazier The moon is bright but not as bright when I see his eyes The fire ignites and all these lights the moon invites The step he takes, the scare he makes and all he does Is get the night even crazier How I wish he leaves the place Violence he needs from the look of his face His face that I knew when he caught my gaze A reflection in real life form, my mind’s amaze A bad thing wore my shoes, a madman with my looks A dance with the devil with the music that hooks It lasts a minute that felt like a whole lifetime took Deadly weapons and breathtaking moments shook Questions answered by confusions Memories turns into delusions My, how the tables have turned Blood came spurting like an art of illusion The awakening reached my thoughts in reality Truth be told and all was just imaginary Sleeping heavenly in a cell can be crazy But how did the night get this much crazier 55

Dance of Death

by: Bienvinido C. Ranario III and Rizza B. Morales Upon the forest trees, leaves rustle and fall. Bird song lulls and the sweet sound of water from the stream, produces a mellifluous melody as they sing together. The crickets and frogs occasionally chime.

She waves her hands in gestures as if she is their conductor leading the orchestral sound.

She was too long in her fantasy that she almost forgot her mom's words, she should be home before the dazzling stars envelope the sky or else...

"Oh my!", she said at the sudden realization, as she turned to take the right path home.

On her way, she passed by a well, and just a few steps in the distance she could hear people singing. A harmony so enchanting, she didn't notice her feet were leading her to where the sound is coming from.

Stopping behind a tree a few steps before the light-filled the clearing "What a sight!" she exclaimed to herself.

She saw people chanting, children her age holding each other’s hands in a jolly merry go round like circle of songs and swaying.

Looked as though hypnotized, unaware, and moving closer, the crunch of leaves and branches on her feet unnoticed.

In the middle of the bright clearing is a bonfire she only noticed at that time. She was startled by the cold hands holding her as she was led to the circle, both her palms were held as they swayed and sang.

Morning came and she was never seen again.

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A Death from Howlers by: Farah Mae M. Miranda

The sun began to hide as the sky casted by the moonlight time when night sky shines illuminated by the thousand stars Full moon is on top escalating from the widest horizon Close to the mountain’s peak where the howlers couldn’t just speak.

Awoooohh… cried the first howler followed by the ravenous howls Succeeding in various realms penetrating the silence The whole town left unspoken no one dares to speak, scared of words believing death would conquer the darkest nights of moon and howlers A soulless fortune awaits for which house the howler was facing Who will be a candidate for death?

Whose name will be the Grim rippers’ target.

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Dogs Howling

by: Bienvinido C. Ranario III and Rizza B. Morales

He refuses to believe it, but are the grueling events just coincidental?

Every night the dogs sing a ghastly harmonic howl, and news about someone's death rose with the sun in the morning.

Weeks ago, a seething Mang Rafael went to hurriedly scold him and Felipe for being late having the kalabaw to be ready to till the sakahan. Later that night, dogs howled a sorrowful song. The morning came with a surprise; Mang Rafael was found dead, speared to his chest is a sharp wooden staff.

Mang Rafael seemed to unluckily trip over a protruding piece of wood, piercing through his stomach. All the villagers gathered and mourned at the burial.

The days have gone by fast, before the sound of dogs howling cut through the peaceful night yet again. This time a young woman, the one who just moved into the barrio, sweet sickening voice, always annoyingly everywhere, sticking her nose in anything I do. She sure died a painful death, surprisingly drowned in the shallow river, and couldn’t have come up to breathe even if she tried. Another morning of the same grief carpeted the streets, and the murmurs, and suspicions spread throughout the community.

Howling dogs are a compass predicting someone’s death.

They had become abruptly distraught and fretful. Doors and windows are closed before dark, eyes peeking through creases and ears strain listening carefully for signs, an unusual rustle of leaves, and of dogs.

Peace at last, not. Events could have been better not until Aling Isang pointed her wrinkly fingers at me. I was in disbelief. She said that I gutted her cow. How could she ever know it’s me?

I’ll tell her the next time dogs howl again.

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SMILE

by: Bienvinido C. Ranario III and Rizza B. Morales

I was looking at my reflection in the mirror and bared my teeth into the widest smile I could muster. Reached and touched a few, one-by-one they began falling.

“Tick, tack, tack, tack,” All of them on the floor.

In cold sweat, the moment I woke up I rushed to the kitchen, grabed the wooden spatula, and bit it.

"What a nightmare!" I thought.

It's said if you had a dream about teeth falling out, it promises bad omen and 60

to jinx it a bite on any piece of wood would do.

I'm already 10. I shouldn't be scared of those silly things, but I can't deny they still give me the creeps.

After preparing for school, I went on my way and passed by a wall. Posters of missing children, smiling brightly collaged on concrete.

"Poor kids, their parents might have been worried sick."

I continued walking and my crush caught my eye. That knee weakening smile, I didn't notice I was staring long enough until he glanced my way.

Embarrassed, I turned away and took a detour. I was too long deep on my own thoughts, I then slipped on slippery mud and fell forwards. There was pain all over and my mouth. I think, I chipped a tooth. A man reached out to help me stand and the last thing I knew he put a hanky over my nose and suddenly keeled.

With a headache, I woke up on a dentist chair. I couldn't remember. The place is dusty and dirty for a dentist's office. A man in lab gown came in.

Horror must have been painted on my face.

"I'm a dentist. Did you forget that your tooth needs fixing?"

He pulled out a pincer-like tool, "snip-snip-snip," getting closer and closer.

"Smile"

"Just a dream, just a dream.." a mantra and I wish to wake up soon, but I know I wouldn't when I can feel the pain of every tooth that is pulled out.

“Tick, tack, tack, tack,” All of them on the floor.

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62 Illustration by: Leonel Retubio

MORS, ET SUSURRONE SUBTRACTO by: Catherine S. Boarao

How do wishes really come true? How do other people become rich instantly? How are others living the life they want? How would it feel to live a life so perfectly?

My life has been a real mess lately. My parents separated and now have their own families. I am failing in school due to my inattentiveness. I am being bullied because of my weight, which is something not derivative since I was a kid.

It’s a quarter to night time and I am stuck in this limbo; a limbo of thoughts and dreams. This day was much worse than the previous years in my life. When I was on my way to school, I saw my father kissing the forehead of a child, not of his own. Why? Why is he giving the love I need and have been longing for my whole life to the child of the lady he just met a month ago? I was crying while I was walking in the hallway but it wasn’t enough misfortune, I guess. All of a sudden, the surrounding turned 360°, literally.

Trina tripped me again, she was laughing, covering her mouth with her hand while pointing at me. Her four minions were also laughing like they’d been paid for this drama.

Pathetic. Yup, I’m pathetic.

I went inside the room, holding the paper with 74/100 in the upper right corner. Okay, I just pretended like it was something new. I didn’t even get that 1 point to make me pass, but it’s predicted, my life has always been like that. I, as a person, have always had that missing link to everything else --- which suits my name, Eris.

I was scrolling through my social media, using a dummy account. I posted, 63

“why does my life have to be like this?” In a minute, someone commented, “why, what is the problem?” That’s unusual. Oh okay, a dummy account too.

“My life is a mess. I want it to be how I dreamed it to be,” I responded. “Then whisper it to the dead. Whisper your wishes.” “How?” “It’s just easy. Find someone who just died and wish the wish you want to be granted.” “Is it true?” “Yes, I tried it and now I’m living the life I dreamt as a kid.” “What’s the trade?” my last comment which he/she did not respond to. I thought about it for a lot of hours.

After searching it on the web, learning how it must be done, at the clock’s short hand pointing after midnight, I went outside to look where there is a funeral. At the end of the street, I can see bright lights surrounding a place.

That’s the target place. I went inside, and cried my heart out, pretending to be a friend of the deceased. Everyone looked at me like I had just come from a mental hospital. I looked at the casket and saw an old man lying inside. My body went cold from the shame, but I don’t have any choice anymore, I must do this to twist my fate. I have nothing to lose. I have to do it now.

I pulled a piece of paper inside my pocket, leaned towards the mirror of the casket, closed my eyes, and then whispered, “Vivat oratio mea per susurrum huic qui modo mortuus est.”

The morning came, and I stood up from bed.

Wait, what? Ma? “Darling, how was your sleep? You brush your teeth now so you can eat your breakfast before going to school?” my mother said casually while smiling. Is this real?

“Good morning, guys.” Dad? My father kissed my mother and then me. “Good morning, my sunshine. I woke up early to drive you to school.”

How? What is happening? I cried in disbelief. Is this a dream? If it is, then please, I do not want to wake up anymore. “Baby, baby, are you okay?

Why are you crying?” my father asked me. I just shook my head, these are not the usual tears that fell from my eyes, and I smiled while eating the pancakes my mother made for me.

After eating, I went to take a bath. I dropped my towel, and the black center of my eyes widen, I covered my mouth with my hand. I can see myself like a bolt from the blue. Who is this lady? A goddess fell from the sky. I can’t believe this. A skin for fair, perfect, and pointy nose, red rose-like and thin 64

lips, shiny hair, and oh my, sexy body. Is this me?

“Darling, go home early this afternoon. We’ll have a double celebration,” I heard my mother shout outside. Double celebration for what? After taking a bath and fixing myself, my father drives me to school. “I’m proud of you, my sunshine,” he then kissed my forehead.

I wish this doesn’t end.

“Congratulations, baby, and Happy Birthday,” my parents shouted with excitement as I arrived home. Complete family, everyone loves me because I’m pretty and sexy, and I’m an achiever, beauty, and brain.

Finally. This life is perfect. This is the life I have always wanted.

Author’s note: In every beautiful thing that comes instantly, lies beneath a rotting truth of ramification.

“Vivat oratio mea per susurrum huic qui modo mortuus est,” a lady whispered as she leans on, wait, what is this? What am I doing here? Why am I in a casket? She smiled wickedly at me and said, “I told you, this is the life I dreamt of as a kid. To grant everyone their requests, in return for the thing they must have treasure.d” This can’t be. No! Mom! Dad! Why am I here?

Wait, is that me?

“Yup, that’s you, the person you have always wanted to be. She’s now living the life you dreamt of having. Shhhh. They will live in limbo. They will not know the truth,” she said while laughing.

“What? What are you talking about?” I asked while banging the glass. But no matter how much I try to destroy it, it doesn’t help at all.

“They will not know the truth for it will be buried with you.”

She closed her eyes and whispered, “Vivat oratio mea per susurrum huic qui modo mortuus est. Let my prayer be alive through the whisper to this one who just died”.

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Teeth

by: Bienvinido C. Ranario III and Rizza B. Morales I was getting hopeless, with school starting in a few weeks I still couldn’t find a room to rent. Despaired and desperate, not after I stumbled upon someone and was told to go to that place.

“Just my luck,” I thought.

I took the chance without having second thoughts. It was the cheapest, shabby woodwork of a room.

The school began; living here had been fine at first. Until those startling, abrupt sounds start to occur. I often hear sounds of pebbles crunching from the ceiling and sometimes falling onto the wooden floors. I wake up from these noises from time to time and even when I am studying, I can't hear them. I started having nightmares about my teeth falling out.

I decided to ask the landlord.

“All I know is that the former owner of the room was a dentist who died of old age.”

Unsatisfied, I started to search my room for clues to the possible cause. Then, I noticed a crevice under the bed, a small, discreet compartment. I was stunned to speak of what I saw. I looked at other parts of the house. On the ceiling too, another compartment as well. Piles of teeth.

[Teeth that had been removed must be put in the opposite direction from where it was pulled out. If from the upper it must be put somewhere below, If from the lower it must be put at high places. So that the new teeth will grow ]

Strange Smell

by: Bienvinido C. Ranario III and Rizza B. Morales

I am haunted by a smell that painfully reminded me of my childhood. As those memories flash by, it urged me to give my grandma a visit. I went to her house, bringing her flowers to wish her well. She's been sick for quite a long time, unable to walk, and was never out of bed, bound by her frail body. As soon as I got there, I found it odd how the gate was slightly open. I shrugged the thought, and I called Aunt Sally but to no avail, so I decided to just head on straight upstairs to grandma's room. I saw grandma sitting in the bed. I asked where Aunt Sally was and she said she went out to buy something.

As soon as I got a subtle smell, there was a familiar smell of a flower. I couldn't distinguish what, with the scent of candle I've been smelling since then. The smell got stronger and more vivid.

Even if there's no sight of it.

We shared tea and conversed about a lot of things.

“Always take care, until we meet again,” she said as we bid goodbye.

I was a step away from the front door of the house when I was met by Aunt Sally. She looked mournful and she asked about what brought me there and said to visit grandma. I then told her that she was waiting for her upstairs. My Aunt’s face turned white from what I said. She told me that Grandma was rushed to the hospital and unfortunately met her last breath. I am stunned by what I heard. [ Smelling of flowers and candles signifies someone’s death that you’re unaware of]

Official Student Publication of Bicol University Polangui Campus

Editorial Board and Staff AY 2021 - 2022

Editor-in-Chief Catherine S. Boarao Associate Editor Anjenette S. Silvano

Managing Editor Jessa S. Magno

News Editor Farah Mae Miranda

Feature Editor Ma. Ysabel M. Vasquez

Literary Editor Bienvinido C. Ranario III

Cartoonists Mac Klein R. Roaring Joshua B. Rivera Abigail G. Murillo Ralph Joachim Tulabing Leonel T. Retubio

Sports Editor Jomar Secillano Column Editor Kimberly Chiquillo Chief Staff Writer Rizza Morales

Layout Artists John Paul Ardales Jan Clyde A. Napiri Ma. Teresa Oloroso

Staff Writers Daniela Jane Talangan Rocel Rosales Jeramel Marie M. Llona Patrick S. Sayago Lysa Romaraog

Photojournalists Job Pobre Harold Altamera Kathleen Llanera Christopher Jan Cioco Mark Elijah Lucero

Mary Joy Reburiano Adviser

Contributors: Alfonso Garcia Jr

Alvin Rebutiaco Angelique Rebancos Klein Salameda Bobby Domdom Jr.

Sofia Aiumi Osacia Katrina Lobete Kobe Jasper Gabion Jomari Secillano 68 Micaela Ann Llenas

Joede Sy Belen Juarence Sergio Michael Beato Adeline Jolie Gomez

Layout by: Jan Clyde A. Napiri, Jomari R. Secillano

Virtu Literary and Visual Arts Folio of Bicol University Polangui Campus ISSN 1656-4928 69