Déjà vu

déjà vu

Foreword Time is a ripple of sand on a lonely desert.

So why do we keep pondering, after all?

Every grain forgotten: constantly repeating, though.

Every grain is the same.

Irrelevant it seems.

But, irrelevant it seems, every grain is the same.

Constantly repeating though every grain forgotten.

So why do we keep pondering? After all, time is a ripple of sand on a lonely desert.

Copyright Š 2015 Booked Volume 4, Part 2 LXIX No. 5 Literary Folio of Tolentine Star, the oďŹƒcial student publication of the University of Negros Occidental-Recoletos All rights reserved. No part of this folio may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the Editor-in-Chief.

Published by the students, faculty, and alumni of the University of Negros Occidental- Recoletos at Impress Quality Printing, Talisay City, Negros Occidental.

Literary Editor Nikko Paolo Calumpiano Editor-in-Chief Jessan Cabunsol

Booked VOLUME 4, PART 2

Daydreams 07 Eskinita Love Affair 08 Blacklisted 09 rebirth 09 Manik 11: Overlapped 11 the elusiveness 12 Until Again 13 Bad Habits 14 hey, Jay 16 sabay nating sabihin bago lumubog ang araw 17 Time Trick 18 enkahlean sonnet 20 Makeshift Love 21 Bridegroom 22 With others 23 Days and nights were 49 Dream thief 55 photograph 61 Déjà Vu's Hymn 67 Chips 71

25 Unwind: A Prologue

29 Cecilia 73 every Day

33 Replay 37 Just A Break 45 pedicab 50 Noises 57 De Novo 62 Adobo 43 Shadow of the Past 68 Next time, perhaps 77 Unwind: An epilogue 39 In Loving Memory of Jose 30 REPLAPSEESPALERELAPSE

Table of

contents

6 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 7

VOLUME 4, PART 2

Daydreams

by Michael Kate Abella

Staring blankly ahead without a care in the world, My mind brewed wonders I never knew my heart holds.

I'm no one fantasizing about love, peace, and the like.

Dreaming, wondering, and hoping for a happily ever after even in the afterlife.

But the reality of this world awakened me from my sweet happy daydreams, The harsh world we live in - full of hatred, wrath. and hopeless screams.

I'm not a stranger to this cruel reality.

My innocence might fool you but I've seen enough to know this world has its worth.

I am but merely a child with a hopeful heart, Throwing random sunshine to strangers as a start.

With a jolt, I was brought back to reality.

With a snap of a friend's hand, the truth dawned on me; Evil will never stop until we tske a stand.

Corruption, pretensions and masks shall be revealed if we all give a helping hand.

Dreams will remain just that, unless we actually wake up.

The world can be changed if we free ourselves from the grip of our sin's chains.

Dress yourself with a child's pure heart and a wise man's mind; By then you'll see, The goodness from above will smile at us in glee.

C

artwork by Norman Baldomar, Jr.

C

8 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 9

VOLUME 4, PART 2

Eskinita Love Affair ni Kris Angela Louisse Dadivas

Nagkasalubong tayo, Sa isang maliit na eskinita.

Nagkatinginan.

Nagkangitian.

Blacklisted by nomads

Memories treasured Developed and honed through time Ruined by future

Hindi maitatangging matikas ka.

May magandang mukha.

Totoo ba to?

Lakas tama yata ako.

Sa isang iglap, Lumakas kabog ng dibdib.

Dumilim.

Blangko.

Pag bukas ng mga mata, Napamura ako.

Hindi sa gandang lalake mo, Kundi sa nawawalang pitaka ko.

Rebirth

by Paul Justin Deoma

I lived I loved I lost Deceased From ashes, I rose From ashes, life arose From ashes, I flee To ashes I shall return

C

C

10 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 11

VOLUME 4, PART 2

Manik 11: Overlapped

by En Kahl

artwork

Overlapping momentum, relapse instead a time to consume, a time to be fed.

Have I been here before?

Over-asked Over-lapsed Over; unannounced, never before Overlapping momentum, relapse instead a time to consume, a time to be fed Have I seen you before?

Have our eyes ever met, mi amor?

Recast Relapse Reiterated, tell me more Overlapping momentum, relapse instead a time to consume, a time to be fed Have I said this before?

How I long to love you more Underrated Under-stated Understand, I adore Overlapping momentum, relapse instead a time to consume, a time to be fed

C

artwork by M. Katherine

C

12 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 13

VOLUME 4, PART 2

Until Again

by Danielle Francis Olsen

Be silent, hush now Blink the tears And drift away Close your eyes Think no more Escape the cries Of broken dreams Forget the pain Succumb to sleep Embrace the peace Of moments, still Cherish the stall Until it lasts For when the sun comes And lights the dawn The silence dies And the cries return Of broken dreams Of fallow throes That come to haunt Again and again

The Elusiveness

by Kevin Ciano

Emerged like these sudden apparitions An appeal of an overlooked desire Have I longed to feel the embracing dare Like the wings of time beneath illusions?

Seeking to unfold the hidden mysteries History in every book of each day Unwinding the trail every time I pray Yet, life has freed never-be-seen answers.

The old clock near the hind of swaying tale Shrinking hands through the greatest fear of loss Coming to relinquish one's own visions Like a hidden dearth inside the frail pail.

Like a long ago friend whose heart regrets Oh, hear the clamors of serenity!

For I have met thee for eternity Along the endless route in its thousand recourse.

Whose existence defies in solitude But the tender world inside, so placid Still yearning for images' real answers.

C

C

14 Booked

deja vu 15

VOLUME 4, PART 2

Bad Habits

by Alyssa Marie Arceño

Crosses and stitches To what we’ve been; We hid in darkness, In every fault we’re in.

I left the path We ought to take All the same with the promise That I would break.

And now in the same, Old Ways I can’t replace.

C

C

artwork by Jamie Jelle Guino-o

16 Booked

déjà vu 17

VOLUME 4, PART 2

Hey, Jay

by Alyssa Marie Arceño

Sabay nating sabihin bago lumubog ang araw

Hey, Jay, Sumama ka na sa akin At tayo ay maglalayag Sa ating imahinasyong puno Ng kay anong sarap.

ni Kris Angela Louisse Dadivas

Hey, Jay, Pigilan mo man Ay ‘di ka papansinin Ng gulo ng buhay Na iyong tatahakin.

Hey, Jay, Hawak mo ang mundo Na ginagalawan ng mga tao Sa isang tasang kape’y Hindi ko maipapanalo.

C

Saan ba nakatingin yang mata mo?

Nandito ako.

Walang hiya.

Lumingon ka ng kahit konti at lilingon din ako.

Ayaw mo talagang magpatalo.

Maghapong pakiramdaman tayo.

"Gusto ko ata siya?"

"Gusto niya ata ako?"

Leche.

Paglubog ng araw, Nakatuluyan mo ang katabi mu, Hindi ako.

C

artwork by Nevin Crampatanta

18 Booked VOLUME 4, PART 2

Time Trick

by Jenny Requieron

Memories, rivals of time A history, lived 'til yesterday 'til today, everyday.

That smell, doesn't linger anymore But remembered Like childhood and innocence.

Wounds that never healed And scars, they remind us still.

Ears, they longed for stories Tales lived longer than church bells.

Memories Cheat time, Travel us back to joy and pain Like dreams.

Memories, Recalled, Retold, Relived, Better than us, They never die.

C

C

artwork by Anna Mae Lachica

20 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 21

VOLUME 4, PART 2

Makeshift Love Enkahlean Sonnet 1: Fable of the crow and the butterfly

by En Kahl

Apart from all the winged blackness of the night Apart from all the powdered flutters of your sight The smell of carrion and ecdysis seethe to sigh Undying fable of the crow and butterfly Of mortals, gods, and heroes: metamorphosis is all but death unwound, as that of Sol's eclipse The smell of carrion and ecdysis seethe to sigh The raven's wishes flocked apart like nimbus sky Unkindness pleases murders; avian black as coal the feathers deep and rich as that of Nyx's shoal The butterfly of night is wishing-seethe to sigh The raven's feathers scattered out like nimbus sky

by Paul Justin Deoma

You are my drug My pot My meth My ecstasy.

I was your puppet Your confession hall Your sunset Your last resort.

"Do you love me?"

"Love?"

In the uncertainty I was certain That this is temporary.

The smell of carrion and ecdysis seethe to sigh Undying fable of the crow and butterfly.

C

C

22 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 23

VOLUME 4, PART 2

Bridegroom

by Raxel Ann Gonzales

I have been here before I have seen all of these The pews filled with our friends The aisle with bright pink blossoms Music filled the air above And wine flowed in our cups The vows awaited your lips To speak their truth and love I saw you enter the church As the wooden doors part, From the end of the aisle I saw my one true love And all who were present Stared at your radiant grace As you walked to the altar Held in your father's arm You were more than pretty, And the word beautiful Was an understatement You were ethereal.

Til' finally you reached The aisle's end in my front I felt my tears form pools Pools that refuse to shed

I wonder Why chances keep on following me Yet, I still lose you Every time

There, your vows deafened me, And at last, I heard you I heard your lips say two words, And then came "I DO"

I know I love you But, now isn't the perfect time Because life is always bitter to me

That fateful Sunday was The day you kissed the groom The day you changed last names The day you've dreamed of

You don't know How much I hate you Because of you My life has become bitter

I have been here before I have seen all of these This was our dream for years Now a reality

But because of you Chances still follow me And I know That my life now is sweet

The only difference?

My "Best Man" is your "Groom".

With others

by Jessan Cabunsol

C

C

dĂŠjĂ vu 25

Unwind: A Prologue

by En Kahl

"You pressed the button."

I woke up in the deep echoing voice of those words.

"You pressed it, right? Well, yeah, that's why you're here."

The voice, majestic as it seemed, sounded awkward. I slowly opened my eyes only to get blinded by the paleness of the whole room. Or was it a room? The place was too vast to even see the walls. It looked endless yet claustrophobic. I looked around for moment to find where the voice was coming from.

"I'm here. Get up!"

My left ear caught the reverberating hum of the words. Much like the place, the sounds all seemed so near as a whisper, yet so distant as an echo. It was like everything in nothingness. My head ached like jackhammered pavement. I got up.

"You pressed the button."

"What? What button?" I caught myself talking back to the mysterious voice.

"The red button. The 'reset button'. That's why you're here."

I don't remember pressing any button.

I felt the dry creases on my lips and tried to wet them with what's left of my spit.

My lips stung as I licked them. I tried to speak. "I don't remember pressing any b--."

And then it hit me. I did press a button.

"You can't remember? Don't worry. It happens. Trust me all your senses will be back," the voice said.

"No...no... I remember something. I did press a red button," I answered.

"Well. That happened faster than expected. But yeah, you did right?"

The voice's awkwardness was decorated all over his words. I still couldn't see him though. I rose to my feet and shook off my pants and my shoulders. Not that the floor was dirty, it was just a habit people do when they get up from pavement-like surfaces.

I looked around. And as I turned, in my surprise, I saw a cow. An enormous anthropomorphic 20 feet cow.

It sliced the widest grin it could muster. It spoke. "Hi! You found me."

I felt like my eyes wanted to jump out from my skull. I wanted to scream my lungs out but no air pushed the "Oh! What the hell is that!?" statement I've conveniently constructed in my head. My jaws instead hung like a flappy meat on a clothesline.

"You pressed the button," repeated the cow.

"Y-y-yeah.. uhm.. you're a cow!" That was the best I could say.

"You're absolutely right. I'm a cow. My name is Handelsre. I'm the God of Circumstances."

"Y-y-you're.. you're a.. you're a cow."

artwork by Nevin Crampatanta

C

26 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 27

VOLUME 4, PART 2

"Yes. I can see that. Listen. You pressed the button. Now you're here and I--."

"Wait wait, Mr. Talking Cow--."

"Handelsre" "What?"

"That's my name. Handelsre."

"Handle... sorry?"

Handelsre looked pissed. He pouted his lips and arched his eyebrow. He stretched his left arm and reached for his butt. He scratched as if he never scratched his big fatty butt before. "Handelsre. That's my name. I'm the God of Circumstances" "And.. you're a co-" "Stop it. Listen to me now" I'd never felt more overwhelmed in my life than that moment. Joke time was over and the mighty Cow God of Circumstances looked more serious now. The heavens-if there were heavens in that all-white place- felt like closing in on me.

The gravity of the world where I was standing, in front of this... this... cow, fell upon my shoulders. I apologized to Handelsre.

"Very well" He continued. "You pressed the button, the reset button."

"Yeah. I remember pressing a button. Where am I?" "You're in my realm. You're in The Void."

I frantically touched every part of my body. I checked for my pulse and my breathing. "Am I.. Am I dead?"

Handelsre let out a thunderous laugh. It sounded like pulses of earthquake shaking the still wind of The Void. "Oh, you're funny, human. Why do you always ask that whenever you meet a god?"

"A god? You mean, 'the God' is not real? There are many gods?"

"Do you know what's interesting about reality and faith? Truth is based on how strong you believe. Asking if God exists is like asking whether a blind man sees pure white or pure black. You can believe what you want, but a blind man sees what he sees."

"So... does He exist?" I asked, because I didn't get his analogy.

"Of course He does! You know Him, so he does! But that's beyond the point.

To answer your question, you're not dead. You're here because you pressed the reset button."

"The reset button. Oh yes. The one that says I can recreate everything."

"Everything based on your liking. You pressed it. Now you're here. Now, how do you want to recreate the world?"

"I..uhh.. I don't know."

"Hmm.. perhaps looking at the world now will help you decide."

"No. Wait. I think I know what I want to do."

"Well, that was fast."

Handelsre stood up. He actually looked a lot bigger on his feet. His shadow cast a night-like atmosphere upon me. He turned around and all the roaring vibration of the ground made by the friction between the floor and his hooves

C

shook my every bone. He walked away. I tried to catch up.

"Follow me," he said. "If you've finally decided, you'll have to remember one thing" "What is it?"

"You see, human minds are frail. When you play with time, humans feel uneasy.

You know, things like deja vu and all that stuff?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's gonna happen to everyone. Depending on which point in time and place youre planning to recreate the world. It might even get worse than that."

"I thought that was more of a psychological phenomenon?"

"Everything you thought you knew were wrong."

"Oh. Okay. Well, since you're saying that, I have a request."

"Tell me."

"You said I can see the world now right? Can I view the world after I recreate it?"

"Of course! But you can't stay here for long."

"I know. All I need is a bit of time."

"What are you planning?"

"Something interesting."

Handelsre looked at me with a face of amazement and skepticism. We stopped walking. In front us was an even wider see of twinkling silver shards. They all look like floating diamonds casting brilliant lights like stars of the darkest nights. It was the best thing I've ever seen.

Handelsre said "This is the world. You're about to recreate it now. You'll see the results afterwards" "How do I do it?" I asked.

"Your instincts will tell you," He said quite casually as if recreating the world is as normal as changing your underpants. "Remember, deja vu."

"That makes this more interesting."

In that moment, I recreated the world.

And all the stories of people's lives retraced, re-tracked, and reassembled. I sat and looked at how they thought their minds were playing with them. Handelsre sat beside me. We marveled at the humans trapped in the incomprehensible concept of time and space.

The stories began jumbling. It went one page after another. The first page started with a story of confusion.

To be continued...

C

28 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 29

VOLUME 4, PART 2

Cecilia

by Nicole Villavecer

It occurred to me one night that I wasn't sleeping at all when I thought I was. Mother had tucked me to bed early after the power went out at exactly 7:45 p.m., just after her favorite teleserye had ended. I heard some neighbors mention something about Ceneco, but I didn't know what that meant at that time. I had no idea what time I had woken up, but it was eerily quiet and dark.

Mother was snoring beside me, and the only light that flickered was coming from a small lamp that Papa had set up atop the cabinet beside our bed. Before the three of us would sleep every night, we would play with our hands' shadows on the wall. We would distort each of our hands to resemble the shadow of a dog, a snake, an eagle, and sometimes a rabbit, to which we would occasionally laugh as we mimicked the sounds of the animals as well. But soon enough I would yawn and close my eyes, and dream of hopping on some clouds, or riding on a unicorn, until I woke up with wet sheets.

That night, however, was different. I realized the familiarity of the scene I was seeing was something I had to suspend from my jetlagged state. It just reminded me of what used to be. I wasn't the kid I had been staring at for a long time, nor was the man and woman beside my parents. They were my wife Cecilia, and a half-naked man who I learned later on was her boss from the call center where she's working.

I dropped the heavy bag I was holding, the bag that carried a handful of new toys for my three-year-old boy, and boxes of Victoria's Secret perfume I had promised to buy from Saudi for Cecilia. The loud thud woke them up. Cecilia first saw me with sleepy eyes, and as it dawned on her that she was not dreaming, our shocked gazes were locked on each other. Her jaw dropped as if she had seen a ghost - perhaps I had been one for her after I fled outside the country to work.

Her boss looked at me for one second, and he looked down in what I consider an insinuation of the shame he felt. He then said sorry to me. I wasn't.

The next thing I knew was that we were shouting at each other - adult against adult until Emilio, my son, woke up crying. I saw fear in his eyes when he saw me, but there was more fear rising within me when I realized he didn't even recognize me as his own father.

After a few minutes, I felt my world shaking. I opened my eyes to see mother waking me up. Her hands were still wet from doing the laundry downstairs. I was startled. She told me I had been banging my head to our room's door with eyes closed.

"You are sleepwalking again," she said, and cursed out a laugh.

I touched my forehead to ease the slight pain after I banged it against the door for several times. Then, I let out a heavy sigh and pinched my eyes to confirm what my mother just said. My heart felt relief upon realizing that everything was just a pigment of my far-fetched dream - or was it a nightmare? But it sank and melted once more when I saw my playmate Cecilia behind my mother, giggling after what she just saw.

C

artwork by Joebert Valdez

C

30 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 31

VOLUME 4, PART 2

"I don't know, but I feel it."

Circumstance has wrung Gino out. He dropped his eyes on the marble ground as he tried to tame his stiff wobbly hands.

Of course, it was futile. He was a disheveled mess.

"Someone has been following me ever since that incident," Jake shot him a curious look and scanned his face. His furrowed forehead scrunched into folds. His quivering chin spelled out a different kind of fear.

"I believe you, Gin. But you really need to stop thinking about it. That incident was ten years ago," Jake winced at the frigid air surrounding them as he reached for the cold metal knob. The door squeaked open and Gino walked across the kitchen floor to his bedroom.

"Good night, Gin. Don't worry. You're safe here." Gino turned his back away from his elder brother.

Jake's wrong. He isn't.

The sun was starting to hide itself from the horizon when the rain ceased to pour.

It has cascaded down the city and drenched almost every inch of the front porch of his home.

After the rain completely stopped, Gino pulled on his acid wash jacket over his dark purple trousers and went his way out towards the city. His rural house was built on top of a plateau so he could see the miniature view of the urban mall to where he's headed.

He hurried down and went his way through the thick large trees that created beams of illumination passing through the spaces of the forest canopy. Everywhere, the weeds pushed themselves up such that it tickles Gino's feet as he brushed through the chilly and dim place. He was ten steps closer to his car when a sudden flicker of vertical light stretched out and widened right before his eyes. Out of the blue, a huge and ugly tentacle sprung out of the portal and grabbed him in one swift movement.

His upper body swerved halfway through the thing when he felt something tightened around his left leg. He screamed so loud that he couldn't hear the sound of his own voice.

Pain and struggle must have drained it somewhere. *** Gino fell on solid concrete. He writhed in pain and looked around to plead for help. It was only then that he realized he was on some weird sidewalk and just around the corner was a strange commotion that had drawn all the people in the vicinity to it. The crowd drew an indistinct circle around the opposite side of the lane

as if there was some kind of urgency going on. The ambiance smelled vintage. Men wore odd fedoras and women squeezed themselves into painful looking corsets that created an hour glass shape illusion onto their tortured bodies. Gino wasn't sure why he was there, but if there's one thing he's certain of, he was not existing in his own generation. He must have travelled back in time.

"Help!"

The high pitched clamor caught his attention. A man in soiled clothes was tugging at a small child holding a sandwich. On his shaking right hand was a clutched sharp knife.

"Oh shit!"

An innocent kid is about to get hurt by some lunatic over that stupid sandwich and he must do something about it. Anything.

"HEY!" Gino rushed towards them, but the old man heard him and managed to run away.

In the process, the kid was knocked over to the sidewalk with his glasses falling and breaking into shards. The sandwich he was holding dropped onto the ground as well.

Without the spectacles on, Gino recognized the identity of the kid he just saved.

It was his seven year old self.

After the incident, Gino knew that the only way to get back to that portal is through his seven year old self. Now all he needs to do is to follow him around and wait until the time comes when the kid reaches the age of seventeen when he would see that portal just the same as Gino did. *** Hiding behind his car, an aged Gino waited for his seventeen year old self to arrive at the exact site where he saw the portal open before. A few minutes later, Gino saw his seventeen year old self walking towards his car. As the grown kid approached nearer, a bright blinking light appeared. The beam widened and the tentacle sucked in his younger self's body halfway through the portal. Finally, Gino saw the opportunity to hold on tight around his younger self's left leg as they both got pulled into the atrocious thing. *** Gino fell on the sidewalk again. He was alone. The grown kid was gone. He looked around from left to right to see where his younger self was, but all that he saw was a crowd hovering over the opposite side of the lane. Curious, he went over and he was startled to see his younger self bloody and motionless on the floor.

"Please let me through! He's my son!"

A big lump of saliva suffocated his throat. He needed to believe the lie he just said. It has to sound believable to all the people there. He wasn't his son. He was him. And he's dead.

"OH GOD! SOMEBODY CALL 911!"

From the other sidewalk lay the lifeless body of a seven year old boy drenched in

C

C

RELAPSEESPALERELAPSE

by Jamie Jelle Guino-o

32 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 33

VOLUME 4, PART 2

blood.

He's bleeding to death.

A woman came rushing in towards the dead child. Her face was familiar.

She was Gino's mother.

He didn't know what to do. Gino was shaking and panicking. Tears just kept on falling.

"I... must..."

He knew he needed to do something. He must save his five year old self from dying. Next thing he knew he was in the middle of the road. His sanity was nowhere to be found. But he needed to cross to the other side. He can't die.

"I... mus-st...save..."

Then, in a heartbeat, a fast approaching vehicle clashed into his side, tossing him over to the ground like a lifeless rag doll.

Everything faded to blank. *** In his soiled clothes, Gino chewed on his dirty fingernails as he sat next to a garbage dumpster full of filth. He was helpless and starving, but his diabolical laughter was hysterical. Too deranged to notice, he kept on grinning as quiet tears mask down all that's left of his sanity. He was playing with his jagged pointed knife when he saw a kid with glasses on the corner of the street with a sandwich in his hand.

Then suddenly, circumstance has wrung Gino out.

Replay

by Jireh Earl Parrocho `

October 20, 1994, 21 :00 First Log My Warplus-3000 prototype has been functioning well mechanically and electrically. However, l have to plug in more energy (specifically more than twenty thousand kilowatts of power) and change a few worn-out components due to the machine's high-powered engine motor spinning to top speed that made the slightest of damages. Well, I need to make sure that every part of Warplus-3000 is in good condition. My invention made its latest test simulation two weeks ago and it somehow didn't work out fine although my theory and my algorithm seem correct.

Just a few things to calibrate and I'll be ready then for the next simulation this Friday, October 21, 1994.

October 21, 1995, 21:07 Second Log Warplus-3000 is, at last, on its final stage of calibration. And with a push of a button, it could bring anything and anyone to its position and previous state at a given time, with a range limit between twenty-two minutes ago until the present. The first organism transported through time was my daughter's squirrel put inside the cage. The blue laser beam scan must be done before the transportation procedure. Start first living organism trial run in three...

Two...

One...

And...

Results were as expected. Both the squirrel and the cage were transported back to the same table where they were exactly sixty-one seconds ago. So basically, only those under the laser beam can be transported back through time, not affecting anything else around it. I might need a bigger light to bring the whole table.

October 22, 1995, 19:32 Third Log I am very sorry to inform you that l, Jason Escaler, am cancelling the second trial. Something happened a few hours ago. And it's my fault because I've been focusing on this my whole life. I'm sorry. Signing off.

October 23, 1996, 21:00 Fourth Log It has been exactly a year and two days since my last log. Right now though,

C

C

34 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 35

VOLUME 4, PART 2

I am more motivated to continue my research and develop my Warplus-3000. l was, at first, just playing around with technology and, maybe, be lucky enough to receive a Nobel Prize for this project. But now I have a purpose so clear that everything else went black. I just need a few more adjustments and maybe, a bigger blue laser.

October 30, 1996, 21:04 Fifth Log WarpIus-4000, theoretically, could transport any human being back in time up to ten seconds. I am how trying to expand its range to twenty years. I'll just connect the red wire here and...

(Explosion) I will never touch that red wire ever again. I'll try to clean this mess up tomorrow. Out. November 2. 1996, 21:03 Sixth Log I needed to fix the machine for two days. The external casing was partially destroyed and the vacuum tubes needed to be replaced. Second human trial is still a failure.

Something is wrong and I need to fix this immediately. I desperately want to go back.

December 1, 1996, 21:11 Seventh Log The blue laser beam doesn't have enough frequency to transport any human being back Gamma Radiation is my key. The latest version of WarpIus-4000 features a headgear with power chords that fires Gamma radiation signals needed for the so-called "time travel", and a compact MRI scan for me to keep track of my sample's brain activity during the process. My hypothesis of time travel is supposed to be successful with just a push of a button. I miss you Ellen. Start test run without organism in three...

Two...

One...

And Warplus-4000 is all fired up. Wait...

December 5, 1996, 21:00 Eighth Log The last simulation was quite a success. I have to check my charts and run it again though. I need to work on my time settings. Earlier this day, 9:46 in the morning, I requested for assistance at the mental institute nearest to my house and l have been granted a live human sample for today's simulation. Don't worry. My

C

patient is hopeless and it seems that his present life is not worth living. Bringing him to his past is, therefore, ideal. With time adjustment, I will set his starting point at exactly two years and three days ago, a time when this nervous breakdown patient was totally fine. This was actually the time when he discovered he was second place at the Bar Exams. According to the records, the breakdown started a year after the Bar when he felt the deepest heartbreak of losing his whole family in a wildfire. Anyway, let's start simulation in three...

Two...

One...

And. . . It worked.

December 6, 1996, 21:10 Ninth Log This would possibly be my last log. If anything would happen to me today, I would be happy to be with her in heaven. But if I would be given a once-in-alifetime opportunity to go back through time, l would go way back to where we started and experience those unforgettable moments we had together. Usually, if other people would be given the same chance, they would change history and fix the mistakes they had committed to avoid their miserable present life. As for me, it is just okay for me if it would only be a replay. l don't need to change anything.

All I want is just to be with Ellen. The only mistake I did, maybe, was to have more time for this than for her. I would make it a point from then on to spend more time with her than with this nonsense.

Goodbye 1996. I'm coming Ellen!

Start simulation in three...

Two...

One...

Wait.

Did I set the time to twenty years?

December 5, 1994, 21:00 Zeroeth Log 1 Hi, l'm Jason Escaler, and I'm from the future. Unfortunately, I forgot to set the time machine to my honeymoon. Anyway, she's still here. Signing off.

C

36 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 37

VOLUME 4, PART 2

Just A Break

by Kendall Rancis Segovia

Humans are fascinating creatures.

This one here, in front of me, in the bus. He looked weary enough.

Sitting with his back slouched. Legs kept together as they carried the weight of his sling bag. His white earphones and white shirt stood out against his black curly hair that blocked portions of his ear. His eyes drooped, seemingly opened halfway through, affixed at a certain point on the floor. What was he looking at? Seemed like a directionless gaze into nothing. His mouth drew a flat line, like a lone vessel in the middle of the vast plain ocean. Would he have noticed a girl like me scanning his features? Probably not. Maybe it's time for my little show.

The bus slowed down to a complete stop, its engine muffled into silence. Blurs from the outside window paused into a still image. An aura of calmness took over the place. Everything was halted but me. Time froze. l was doing it. l carefully examined the bus, wary of others of my same kind. Every twitch of an eye, lift of a finger, whisper of a breath, I waited. Others of my kind were dirty tricksters, mind players, and thought stealers, eventually caught and named myths and legends. But nothing like me. I have my own methods of whim. After a few seconds of cautious pause, I took an air of relief and stood up straight. There were no others. This is mine.

I stood up from my seat and looked at the man. He just sat there, just as everyone else, but it was almost as if nothing changed in him. He was as stiff now as he was before. He really needed a break. I put my hand on his head. Let's see if I could still do this.

At a snap of my finger, he moved.

His black shoe tapped repeatedly on the floor. It took a while before he recognized what happened, before his static state noticed anything but the cold grey floor. Finally, his tapping ceased. His head turned left, right, then toward me. I let out a smile, as genuine as my smiles go, wishing not to scare him.

"How-what... you?"

His once static body sprung to life. It's curious how he changed. His lips curved to genuine surprise. Both eyes fully pried opened after heaven knows how long.

The earphones made a brief tap when ti fell on the floor as he turned his gaze to me.

Maybe this was the break he needed. A little life out of the ordinary. A disruption of routine.

I just nodded. He breathed heavily, as if a mixture of wonder and shock rapidly flowed out from his mouth. I stayed calm as l was expected to do. I was born for this.

C

artwork by Jeanher Mae Mahinay

C

38 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 39

VOLUME 4, PART 2

I leaned my head and closed my eyes as my lips gently pressed against his. His warm short breaths grew deeper. And his twitching stopped, ultimately containing himself in our kiss.

This time, he was different. Excitement and passion made his lips dance. His hands held my head close in our moment. He felt alive.

I softly released our lock and stood up.

"Go have the rest of your life," I told him, smiling as to lift his spirits up.

His eyes fixed on me as I sat back to where l was. Nothing escaped his mouth but warm air. He was obviously shook up about what just happened, but his posture felt renewed. He let out a faint smile. As if grateful for the moment we shared.

For the moment he'll forget. l snapped him back from freeze and restored normal time. A human could only take so much.

The shaky bus continued its tedious trek. The soft chatter and whirring of the bus engine resumed. Usual city sights obscure themselves past the window. Just another busy day once again.

I caught glances at the man in front of me, hoping he could recall even just a hint of memory, maybe just a feeling. His eyes turned everywhere with his head like he's been remembering something. His brows curved inwards with curiosity as he removed his earphones from his phone and into his bag. For a few seconds, he sat upright and stared the window. I leaned in and asked, "Are you okay?" He turned and paused, somehow scanning my face. After a brief moment, he sighed.

"Oh. It's... it's nothing. You know, one of those things." A subtle smile emerged beneath his confusion.

"What is it?"

"What's it called? You sort of feel like you've been here before? This moment?"

"A deja vu?"

He nodded.

And that's all that it was to him.

C

In Loving Memory of Jose

by Valerie Anne Buenconsejo

Her: Same dream, same feeling, same moment My hazel brown hair fell down to my shoulders. My face sparkled in light make up. My curves emphasized by the red sparkling halter dress. Definitely, I look at my best tonight. A table for two by the grand window of this town's best restaurant is reserved under my name. In front of me is a man in creamy white long-sleeved polo and black slacks. Sincerity to win my heart is written all over his gentle face.

He handed me the fancy bouquet of roses and lilies. Oh, what a romantic sight of suitor in pressure. This is indeed a perfect night I would remember.

Seems real. Seems happening. Alas, I woke up and realized it was a dream.

His: Same date, same frustration, same memory She always lets her brown hair fall down to her shoulders. She always wears the same shade of make-up that radiates her face. She always wears the same red halter dress that flaunts and sways with her curves. Definitely she always looks her best every night. I always reserve the same table for two in the same place of the same restaurant. I always wear the same creamy white polo and black slacks she said suit me the best. Sincerity to remind her of my love is written all over my gentle face. I always give her the same bouquet of lilies and roses arranged by the same florist. Oh, what a romantic sight of lover in pressure. This is indeed a perfect night she would not remember.

Indeed real. Indeed happening. Alas, she woke up and thought it was a dream.

Her: For almost a year now, I have been haunted by the same memory. I tried to remember his face each time I woke up but things get all blurry the day after. I asked my friends about this weird fantasy I have each night but they would just shrug. Hours later and I would totally forget every single detail about my peculiar dream. What happened? What did I dream about? Oh well, it was just a dream.

Him: For almost a year now I had been doing the same thing. I tried to remind her each night but whenever she wakes up, things get all blurry the day after. She tries to ask her friends about her 'weird fantasy' but I told them to just shrug at her. Hours later and she would totally forget every single detail about our peculiar date. When will she remember? When will she stop dreaming? Oh well, it was just a tragedy.

Her: "Hi, Cecilia. Free tonight? Let's meet at Zinnia Restaurant, 7:00pm. Got a table reserved in your name," said the voicemail I listened to. It was from Jose, my suitor. He has been pursuing my heart for a week now and I am still finding the right time to say yes. And definitely it would be tonight. Jose is the epitome of a fairytale prince charming. Girls throw themselves at him which was a surprise why

C

40 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 41

VOLUME 4, PART 2

he chose me who didn't care about his bachelor status.

Him: "Hi, Cecilia. Free tonight? Let's meet at Zinnia Restaurant, 7:00. Got a table reserved in your name," I said in the voicemail I sent. It was Cecilia, my lover. She has been thinking I was pursuing her heart for a week when she said yes a year ago. And, she will again tonight. Cecilia is the epitome of beauty and simplicity wrapped in one body. Boys line up to her which was a surprise why she chose me. She didn't even care about my bachelor status.

Her: What to wear? How would I look? Oh my God, this is a disaster. I am in panic and when I opened my closet and grabbed the red halter dress. I applied light make-up and just let my hair do its own magic. And then I thought, not bad.

I defined sophistication at its finest tonight. This should really be memorable, because tonight I am finally saying yes. Tonight I would let my heart feast on happiness. Stared at my clock and it ticked 6:30PM. Just in time for me not to be late. I left home with a smile plastered on my face.

Him: This is no surprise to me anymore; she would definitely wear and look the same. Each night, nothing changes: her dress, our talk, my feelings even her memory would not change a bit. Yet each night, I would always feel the same love each time I stare at my dear Cecilia. She would be here any minute now.

She would enter the place with a smile carved in her face. She is an angel sent from heaven. I keep my thoughts busy thinking about my Cecilia when a voice interrupted me, "You again sir? Each night for a year, you would choose this seat and plan everything the same. Why is that so?" I looked and saw the waiter. "For the love of your life who forgot about your love, you would do everything you can to make her remember. She never had a clue about us, each night she says yes and each night the same joy envelopes my heart," I replied with love. "Why sir, what happened for you to have such tragic story?"

"She got herself into an accident the night she was about to go to our date exactly a year ago, all memories after that day remain just a dream for her.

Memories about me, about my love, about us. They all turn to dreams one after the other each day she wakes up. Tragic, but for the sake of my love I'll endure everything."

"But why remain like this sir? You could have just chosen a woman who would remember every effort you give and not just someone who would forget about this." I was taken aback by the statement of the waiter. I closed my eyes and remember the angelic face of my Cecilia after each night we went together.

"The mind may forget but the heart would always remember the feeling both of us shared. She may not remember my love but she always knows that she loves me each time she says yes. And, for me it's all worth it." Yes, it was all worth it, more than a thank you a lover could receive after the night. In my case, each time she says "YES" I feel the joy more than any man could feel.

"How dare you hide the truth?"

Her: "How dare you hide the truth?" I couldn't hold my tears back after hearing all the lies. What is he saying? Accident? Forgotten? Love? I could not remember anything. We just met last week, he courts me and we are dating and now this?

"Arrrgh!" my head, my head hurts like hell. My mind wanted to explode into thousand pieces. Blurry images flood my mind. "Stop! Stop it hurts!" Please, could someone just stop the pain. I am seeing people and could not remember who is who.

"Cecilia I love you" "Yes, Jose, Yes" "Forever and Always my Dear Cecilia."

"Hold on Cecilia."

Him: She heard me, the secret I've been keeping for a year now. "Cecilia I ---" "Arrrgh!" I was surprised and frightened when Cecilia suddenly shouted in pain.

I hugged her tight but she was struggling in my embrace. She is crying in pain, this is what I am trying to avoid. I could not take seeing her in agony. "Stop! Stop it hurts" My tears start to fall as my own love cries in pain in my hands. This is entirely my fault. I should have not let her hear all those things. She is in pain; my Cecilia is frightened. My heart breaks to thousand pieces seeing her like this.

Just then she was able to escape from my embrace and ran outside. "Cecilia!

Cecilia wait let me explain" I tried to stop her but she was already across the street.

I ran after her. Just then, "BEEEEEEEPP!" Her: I escaped his embrace and ran outside, pain is getting unbearable every minute and images flash like hell in my mind. "Jose" I just said out of nowhere.

Just then I remember "Jose, my dear Jose." I looked back at him and right before my eyes.

"BEEEEEEEP!" My hazel brown hair fell down to my shoulders. My face sparkled in the light make up. My curves emphasized by the red sparkling halter dress; definitely I look my best tonight. I walked through the concrete path to the place where my love awaits for me. He's been here the whole time and he will never leave me. I placed the bouquet of lilies and roses beside him. If only I realized it was not just a dream, this should be more memorable. Smile plasters on my face but a tear escaped from my eyes. I placed my hand in the concrete with the words "In Loving Memory of Jose C. de la Cruz" If only I had learned the truth I could have lived in reality and thought it was not just an ordinary dream. Now it is not, for my dear Jose will just be a part of my memories.

Till we meet again in my next dream Jose.

C

C

42 Booked VOLUME 4, PART 2

Shadow of the Past

by Kristine Lamonte

dĂŠjĂ vu 43

"Demons. They exist. They exist and I will kill them."

This day seems like a normal day to me. House then workplace. Well, that's my routine.

I'm a parent-slash-daughter-slash-student-slash-worker. Yes, I'm a parent of myself. I know nothing about my real parents, about myself, nor about my past. The only thing I know is that I woke up in this little cabin about a year ago with a little ring that can only cover a little flesh of my tiny finger. That was the beginning of this wrecked life of mine.

"What were you thinking Ki? I've been very worried about you! Why did you have to go to the next town and ask questions to random people? God, you could've been raped or kidnapped. You could've even been murdered! Stop acting like a lost kitten because we both know that it will lead you to nothing!"

Here comes Jin's lecture again. Lectures I can no longer stand. I felt this urge to talk back like I've been doing this my entire life.

"That is exactly my point Jin! Don't you get it? I can't continue living my life in this nothingness!"

"I know it's hard for you to continue living your life without knowing you're real identity but please Ki, stop this! You have a job, you have me, you even have the people in this little town looking after you," he took a deep breath, looked at me, and spoke again, "This is also hard for us. We treated you here like family already. Since that day we found you in that little cabin near the river you should've figured out that we will be here for you."

I knew he was right. I am thankful that l have them. They flexed my wings for me to fly- to live. Turning back from him, I sighed as a sign of retreat. I yanked up to my chair and fixed the bottles of soda in my station. Jin's eyes still darted on my every move, that I would never be wrong.

"I won't do it again," is the only answer that escaped my mouth.

Hours passed by so fast. I closed the store after I'm done with my job since Jin said that his mother was ill and had to leave early.

I started walking with tons of things on my mind. I couldn't continue living this pitiful life of mine like this. It is even more depressing that Jin was right. It seems like my past is a forbidden book which can never be told. Tears started flowing from my eyes to my cheeks as l drag my feet to the nearby river. I wanted to remember everything. I was frantically hoping to live and not just exist. I wondered how it's like to have parents. I wonder how it's like to have brothers and sisters. I wondered how it's like to have a family- a real family.

I removed my clothes and slowly embraced the freezing water. I swam back and forth drawing all my agony with the silent cry of the river as my tears continued to collide with it. I might have drowned myself with all the questions and pain of my existence that I already forgot about a beautiful rose I personally planted here with Jin. I walked near the plant. This was from him. He said it was valentines and knew that no man will give me anything so as a good friend, he did. Its bud is already starting to bloom. l examined it and thought that it was such a pitiful creation like me, enchanting this lonely river with its pretty little blooming bud. It will only go through the sorrow I'm experiencing now so I pulled it out from the dull but solid soil. It was alluring. I let my fingers linger on its buds down to its thorns, which I hoped were daggers that can cut my every vein, and finally to its roots

C

artwork by M. Katherine

C

44 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 45

VOLUME 4, PART 2

Pedicab

where my eyes darted.

More questions escaped my mind. Terror and curiosity filled me as l hurriedly started digging the soil beneath the rose with my own little fingers. Sweat is now filling my naked skin as if it's protecting me from the cold wind. I continued digging but nothing. I jumped to my clothes and brought the rose, the rose with a ring quite bigger but exactly the same ring as mine hanging on its roots.

If flying was an option. I might have flown to Jin's house. I ran as fast as I could until I finally reached the place. I knocked and called his name but nobody answered. I peeked through the front windows but I see there's no one so I went to the back doors and found it open.

"Jin?" I called again but still nothing so I walked inside scanning the place to find him.

Low female giggle captured my attention. It is not my attitude to trespass houses and eavesdrop but I heard once that Jin's wife was already dead. She died with her younger sister in a car accident.

"Stop it Jin!" The girl giggled as he tickled her toes.

I didn't know why but I continued peeking from the narrowly opened door.

"Your wish is my command my lady- anything for the one I love," he smiled and jumped to bed beside her.

"Liar," she replied while pouting.

"Hey, I never lied."

"You said you will do anything for me but you never killed her. You should've just left my sister there to die. That way we don't have to fake our death and keep me here hiding."

My body trembled hearing what the girl said to him.

"You know we can't do that. She's still your sister and my wife."

"But I can't hide here forever!"

"You won't. Don't worry my love. Dr. Jones will be here in a couple of days."

"I don't want a surgery! Look at what it did to Kaye. She's very different now. You might no longer love me if I also change my face."

"Ki- her name is no longer Kaye my love. Plus that's the point, to change so that they won't know who you are and we can live the way we want."

I didn't need a mirror to say that I turned pale. My stomach twisted and I felt like I've been stabbed a thousand times as I listened to the conversation of demons before me. I was numb enough to stay where I was.

"But what if she remembers anything?"

"She won't. Trust me. Dr. Jones gave her enough drugs."

"Alright love. I know you've been working on it very well and I trust you," she kissed him passionately and continued, "I'll just take a quick shower, then we'll have a long sweet night ahead of us."

He laughed and replied with a more passionate kiss.

That was all I needed. I stood 'up trembling and entered the next room which I assumed was the kitchen. Their conversation played over and over my head. Over and over that I wanted to be deaf. l was his wife. She was my sister. "Demons. They exist. Demons exist and I will kill them. I will- no matter what," these words escaped my mouth as I grabbed a knife and my tears blurred my vision.

Now my past has been told and so is my future.

"Tay, pahingi ng singkwenta pesos pambili ng load," bungad ni Emily pagkagising na pagkagising ko. Si Emily ang panganay sa labindalawa kong anak. Medyo tamad pagdating sa gawaing-bahay, pero magaling siya sa pag- aaral. Palagi ko siyang nadadatnan na nagbabasa ng libro. Hindi naman sa pagmamayabang pero, sadyang matalino ang panganay ko; singko ang kadalasang grado niya sa kolehiyo.

Kahit gutom na gutom ako dala ng pagod at hindi paghahapunan, iniabot ko ang singkwenta kay Emily. Ang pisong natitira sa akin, gagamitin ko nalang pambili ng tubig o kaya pandesal mamaya.

Araw-araw akong nagpe-pedal ng pedicab para maitawid ang pangangailangan namin. Gaano man kagipit, nagpupursigi akong maipasok sa paaralan ang labindalawa kong anak dahil ayaw kong matulad sila sa akin na maliban sa pagsusulat ng pangalan, pagbibilang Iang ang nalalaman.

Alas-onse na ng gabi nang makauwi ako sa bahay. Nadatnan kong umiiyak si Jose, ang bunso kong anak. Sumasakit ang tiyan at inaapoy ng Iagnat, kaya dinala ko agad sa ospital. Sabi ng doktor, may appendicitis daw si Jose at kailangang ma-operahan agad. Kinabahan ako dahil mahigit isang-daan Iang ang nadelihensya ko noong araw at kailangan nila ng tatlong Iibo para masimulan ang operasyon. Sa isip ko, bahala na kung wala akong makain bukas, may konting bigas pa namang natitira para sa mga anak ko. Kaya ibinigay ko ang isang-daan at sampung piso sa doktor kasama ng pangakong hahanap ako ng paraan para mapunan ang anumang kulang.

Nilabanan ko ang malakas na ulan para maka-utang sa mga kakilala ko. Nang hindi pa rin sapat ang perang nauutang ko, napilitan akong lunukin ang hiya at magbahaybahay upang humingi ng tulong sa mga taong hindi ko kakilala. Kulang pa rin ng apat na raang piso. Matapos ideklara ng doktor na magaling na si Jose, ibinigay ko ang na-utang at nalimos kong pera at lumuhod sa harap niya upang hayaan niya akong bayaran ng tig-sinkwenta bawat araw ang apat na raang pisong kulang ko. Laking pasasalamat ko sa Diyos nang pinatayo niya ako at ibinalik ang ibinayad ko na may dag-dag pang dalawang Iibo. Sa sobrang tuwa, naiyak ako at napayakap sa mahabaging doctor.

Ibinalik ko ang mga inutang ko at itinabi ko ang natitirang pera para sa gamot ni Jose at sa susunod na mga pangangailangan. Nadatnan kong naghihintay sa aming pagdating si Rosa, ang pangatlo kong anak.

"Oh, Rosa! Napaaga yata ang dating mo?" tanong ko.

"Ah, kasi tay..." Sa pag-aalinlangan sa boses ni Rosa, napagtanto kong may mahalaga siyang sasabihin na dapat kong marinig, at bilang isang ama, responsibilidad kong pakinggan at unawain siya upang maibsan ang anumang bumabagabag sa kanyang loob.

"May problema ba, anak? Pasensya na kung ilang araw na wala ang tatay. Wala kasing mag-aalaga kay Jose. Halika! Pag-usapan natin," sabi ko. Naiiyak na Iumapit si Rosa at sinabing, "kasi po tay, baka hindi na po ako makakapag-aral."

"Kung dahil sa nangyari kay Jose, inaakala mong hindi ka na makakapag-aral, mali

C

C

by Lesli Braza

46 Booked VOLUME 4, PART 2

ka. Igagapang ko ang pag-aaral ninyong magkakapatid sa abot ng aking makakaya," sambit ko. "Kasi 'po tay... dalawang buwan na po akong buntis. Ayaw po kasi akong panagutan ni Miko."

Niyakap ko si Rosa. Gusto ko mang umiyak, pinigilan ko dahil bilang isang ama, kailangan kong maging matatag. Hindi ko siya masisisi sa nangyari dahil ako mismo, kumbinsido na may pagkukulang ako hindi lamang sa pinansyal na aspeto kundi pati sa oras at pagdidisiplina.

Mabigat ang Ioob ko nang Iumabas ako ng bahay para maghanap ng pasaherong sasakay sa pedicab. lsinabay ko sa lakas ng ulan ang naglalakihan kong Iuha at sama ng loob. Hindi ko namalayang wala ako sa tamang linya ng daan sapagkat namanhid ako sa ginaw, nabingi sa lakas ng busina at nabulag sa naghalong Iuha at ilaw ng paparating na sasakyan.

Nawala ang pagkabingi ko sa lakas ng pagkabangga ko sa isang trak at naramdaman ko ang sakit ng pagkapulbos ng aking mga buto sa paa bago ako nawalan ng malay.

Pagkamulat ko ng aking mga mata, ramdam ko na dala nito ang pagkawala ng aking kabuhayan- ang marangal na hanap-buhay kung saan nakasalalay ang buhay at kinabukasan ng aking mga anak at ng aking magiging apo.

Luhaang nakatingin sa akin ang isang dosenang pares ng mga mata.

"Nakakain na ba kayo, mga anak? Ilang araw na ba ako dito?" tanong ko.

"Opo. lsang araw po, tay. Huwag po kayong mag-alala, sagot na po ng insurance ng nakabangga sa inyo ang Iahat ng gastos," sabi ni Emily. "Pagpasensyahan nyo na ang Tatay, mga anak. Hindi ko na nga maibigay ang pangangailangan 'nyo naputol pa ang mga paa ko. Pero pangako, pagkalabas ko dito, maghahanap ako ng bagong pagkakakitaan."

"Tay, namasukan po ako kina tiya Neneng bilang kasambahay para matulungan kayo. Titigil po muna ako sa pag-aaral, tay," sabi ni Emily.

"Eh, bakit naman bilang kasambahay, anak? Nakapag-kolehiyo ka naman at napakagaling at napakatalino mo pa. Sigurado akong tatanggapin kang kahera ng Puregold!"

"Patawad po tay. Sa totoo niyan, tay, hindi po ako magaling. Ang sinabi ko noong singko ang pinakamataas na marka sa kolehiyo, hindi po totoo 'yon. lbig pong sabihin ng singko, hindi po pasado.

Pag pumupunta po ako ng intemet shop hindi naman po talaga ako nananaliksik, puros Facebook lang po ang ginagawa ko. At ang mga Iibro pong binabasa ko, puro po pocketbook 'yon."

Sa kauna-unahang pagkakataon, napahagulhol ako sa harap ng mga anak ko.

Dalawampung taon na akong nagpe-pedicab pero ngayon ko Iang naramdaman ang lahat ng pagod at sakit. Pilit kong tinatanong ang Diyos na kasama ng aking namayapang asawa, "Kasakiman ba ang maghangad ang isang mangmang ng magandang bukas para sa kanyang mga anak? Isa bang kasalanan ang hindi pagaalintana ng lubak-Iubak na daan para Iang mabigyan ko ng magandang buhay at kinabukasan ang aking mga anak sa tuwid na paraan?"

Paglabas ko ng ospital, hindi ako nahirapan sa buhay ng isang lumpo. lllusyon man o hindi, pero parang paulit-ulit nang nangyari dati ang pagkaputol ng paa ko dahil hindi pa man ako nakukumpol, lumpo na ako sa responsibilidad ko bilang isang ama. At gaya ng sinumang lumpo, habambuhay kong hindi matatakbuhan ito.

C

Winning

entries

dĂŠjĂ vu 49

poetry first place

Days and nights were bry Charlyn Celeste

Once Upon a time, I doubted a door.

I pinched myself and Felt a little bliss. I concur.

Found it's real, this weird matter.

Red with roses, the days and nights were Butterflies, sparks, reading fairytales. I remember, But it was not long 'til I realized all was just a fancy cover That concealed a tricky process of morphing butterflies, sparks into The dragons. The wildfires that now rush from every corner.

Red as wounds, days and nights were. I shut the doors.

Now I understand this filthy chess game's course.

Now I know such modern fairytale exists.

No snapping out even with a fist I do know because I danced.

And I pinched myself More than Once.

C

artwork by Jessan Cabunsol

C

50 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 51

VOLUME 4, PART 2

short story f i r s t pl a ce

Noises

By Lee Renz Balberona and Kendall Rancis Segovia

My fist clenched as it fell into the final pound. I saw red. Dark, blurry red. My body numbed everywhere. The woman beside me let out a breaking sob. Her face was familiar, though I couldn't remember. I stood up as she painted a deep honor on her face, gazing at some bloodthirsty beast. Me. The noise of the phone quickly invades my ears and wakes me up. A throbbing ache rushes across my head as I muster what I could to stand. Must have been the bad dream. I shake off the thought and reach for the phone.

"Morning, sunshine!"

My mother. She usually calls me this early to catch up with the same old stuff.

She's abroad so sometimes she forgets the time difference; we talk about the usual.

Work, friends, girls.

"Ma, you know I don't have time for that. We've talked about this countless times!"

"Just making sure, okay? Anyway, take care of yourself out there."

"I'm 23, Ma. I know what I'm doing."

Typical Ma, always thinks of me as a child. It's like she's stuck in my childhood or something. I love her and all but it seems she can't move past that phase.

I carry on with my routine. It's 5:30 AM and the sun is just about peeking from the clouds. A dim blue sky greets me as I walk my way from the disturbing city to the cliff beside the sea. I recall my dream from last night, how it feels so vivid and familiar.

The headache returns, but is cut short as I arrive at my destination.

The ocean stretches along the edges of my vision, and I'm enveloped by awe. It's just as I expect it to be every day. The serene blue waters touching the rocks below me. The endless horizon in front of me. The dark blue sky above me. The sight fills me with a strange nostalgia. As if I'm connected with it. As if I've been here before.

At least, I could find peace despite life in the city. I just wish Ma could be here sitting with me, marveling the sight. I just know she could use the calm and quiet. The scorching sun is beginning to bite. It's 7AM and I walk back to my apartment to go to work.

As usual, the city's busy. Smoke from the jeepneys competing for the passengers obscure the surroundings. People in suits walk upright and briskly, carrying their suitcases. Street children in rags keep up with the cars, asking for spare change. I escape into the confines of my tatty apartment, where l fail to elude the urban jungle's artwork by Nevin Crampatanta

C

pollution and noise. A hint of putrid smell. The bickering of the couple upstairs. I'm disturbed by how used I am to this. The everyday life.

This mundane process, of course, continues with my wearisome job. I promptly take a shower, and wear my ragged uniform, which always seems to welcome a barrage of ridicules. With a relative's hand-me-down car, it would take me at least 10 minutes to make it to the grocery store I'm working at, but the intervals between my room's clock convince me walking is more than enough. I prefer it that way.

Upon my arrival, I'm welcomed by a sneer, terribly scrawled expression on the manager's face. I'm now left wondering what ludicrous excuse he'll conjure up to slave-drive me today. This daily guessing game of how strenuous I'd become after hours of undesired labor wears thin through months of excessive errands.

A bead of sweat, threatening to unload itself from my chin, drops on the last box of chips l'm labeling. It's night time. The roads are almost free from the clamorous jeepney honking, and the smokes become less obtrusive as the city lights deplete by the hour.

Tranquility stretches throughout my usual route as I head home. The dreary silence in the apartment's corridor amplifies the steady footsteps I make towards my room. Reaching for the knob, l faintly sense a woman's subdued weeping. The feeble sound escapes from where l earlier heard a couple arguing. She then hushes after a sudden slam of the door upstairs.

After having a drab dinner, I position myself comfortably enough on the room's shoddy bed. An uninvited ruckus arises from the upper floor. The man's loudening voice resonates entirely through my room. A muffled sobbing accompanies his hoarse outcries.

Their fuss continues, and drowsiness starts consuming me. As my consciousness fades, the ceiling dissipates into dimness. The couple's indistinct noises shape into a familiar sight. A very grim one.

A heavy sense of foreboding weighed me down. As if I was the culprit of the woman's terror. Her sobbing continued without halt, hands covering her face. I stared at mine. Red. Bloody red. My vision was hazy, I felt the room shifting, distorting. Like two places at once. The surreal familiarity birthed chilIs to my core.

The woman's cry never ceased until everything faded to black.

The weeping continues, gradually picking up volume. A surging burn shoots its way from my arms to my head, blurring the surroundings. I'm kneeling on the wet floor. A red canvas meets my now vivid sight. My hands. The floor. Blood.

Her voice breaks her bawling as her eyes stare blankly at the lifeless body. The look on her face as she turns to me. Deep horror. Like the nightmares.

"What have you... done?" her fragile voice spoke, breaking in between to catch shallow breaths, pulling a fragmented memory from somewhere. I keep hearing these words at the back of my mind. Like an echo from the darkness. Faint but never absent. I could feel my erratic consciousness slip away and back again. I can't believe what happened. But for some reason, a sense of direction urged my body to

C

52 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 53

VOLUME 4, PART 2

act. I know what I must do.

As I get up, the sound of the dribbling blood from hands and knees accompanies the terrified woman's wail. I hurry towards the man doused in crimson fluid. My senses heighten, and without hesitation I carry him out of the room, departing from the cries permeating my ears. The grisly coldness of his lifeless body becomes more palpable every second. It's strange how familiar this feels. Ominous, yet relieving.

Hurrying through the stairways, the empty corridor, and the vacuous lot, I finally arrive at my ratty car, seemingly waiting for my presence. After placing his remains inside the trunk, I maneuver the car towards a usual spot.

I drag the corpse through the secluded area hidden by the denseness of the trees.

Within the night's impenetrable darkness, the horizon is concealed. The breeze grows colder. And the sea's splashes are amplified. As I drop the man's body from the cliff, I'm embraced by horrific fragments from the past drenched in ambiguity.

The waters seem to reflect what's been carved firmly inside my head, forgotten but not erased. No nightmares. Memories.

The face of a woman, beaten, bruised.

Unnerving blows landed from both fists.

Vehement cries echoed.

An agitation fuelled me as I thrust the knife into the man.

The horrified visage of the woman continued to contort. l begin to recall the dreadful event even more vividly.

Drops of blood trailed my footsteps to the edge of the cliff.

A heavy burden on my shoulders.

Relieved as I dropped the body below the dark waters.

The man. My father. That sadistic piece of shit.

I saw the silhouette of the woman behind the curtains.

Her laments grew fainter, then silence.

I opened the door.

The noose grabbed her neck as she suspended above the wooden chair.

The woman. My mother. Dead.

The moon above dimly touches the surface of the waves. The cold breeze switches its direction as the grass and trees abide. I remember. All vivid. My childhood. Our home beside the cliff. Serene. Quiet. Familiar. Voices burst inside my head.

I did not kill my father. My mother's alive.

I did not kill my father. My mother's alive.

I did not kill my father. My mother's alive.

My consciousness slips, fading to black.

It's my mother. She usually calls me this early to catch up with the same old stuff.

She's abroad so sometimes she forgets the time difference. We talk about the

C

usual.

Work, friends, girls.

"We've talked about this, Ma. I'm fine."

That's her, alright. Always stuck in my childhood.

I hear the neighbor's muffled sobbing, again. Just like every day. The absence of his partner is strange.

It's 5:30 AM as I walk my way to the cliff. The warm breeze of the morning gently touches my skin as I stare into the horizon. The still waters crashing at the rocks below me harmonize with the rustling leaves and trees. I wish mother could be here with me. She could use the peace and quiet. I just wish she'll be home soon.

C

54 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 55

VOLUME 4, PART 2

poetry

second place

Dream Thief

By Christine Dula

artwork ni jeanher

The Girl:

Her name was Maria,

Black hair, porcelain-skinned Maria.

Two black holes, her eyes were,

And lips that always kissed the air.

I loved her and she loved me

In our silhouette and vague reality.

Until cloudless sky knocked open my eyes,

And there she was in her splendid disguise.

The Man:

He was ruthless, our neighbor was;

Wretched and hideous Tomas.

He boozed, and gambled, and smoked pot.

My husband said, in hell he'd rot.

C

artworl by Jeanher Mae Mahinay

Fortnight after, He ravished my daughter.

I asked nothing, then, but vengeance, So I pulled the trigger and killed his second chance.

C

56 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 57

VOLUME 4, PART 2

De Novo

short story second place

by Michael Librando

The hands: I once owned two delicate hands Unblemished and porcelain-toned hands.

They wrote and drew and gave life, Before everything could take away by knife.

My life was a mess, Everything in me was hopeless.

After a man next-door took what was pure, I died of madness without cure.

The Writer: You may dream, and wish, and pray, And may you have it without delay.

But a lot of things can come undone.

But there are dreams that shouldn't be awaken, And you do not want fate to be mistaken.

For who are you to steal?

To steal a dream that shouldn't be real?

C

Deja vu. What causes this strange and unnatural sensation? Many believe through reincarnation the memories and experiences of one's previous lives are preserved in the new body. Others believe it is an unexplainable, supernatural occurrence of mystical properties. I stand with the most scientific thinkers that it is simply a matter of coincidental familiarity, a current event being experienced similar to one of the pasts, thus, the feeling of familiarity. But let us move on with the story, for you and I have already had this conversation once before.

My encounter with Deja vu begins on a Tuesday morning, much like any other morning. I was sitting in my office finishing up some paperwork when my secretary, Darlene, opened the door and leaned in to tell me a Steve Filton was here on appointment. I thanked her and told her to show him in right away.

He stepped in a moment later. He was an average looking man of about 35, had disheveled dark brown hair and looked as if he hadn't shaved in a couple days. I told him to come in and have a seat. He shuffled hurriedly to the chair and sat. I looked him in the eyes and asked him why he came to see me. His eyes were wide and red from exhaustion, his expression desperate. "I'm losing my mind, he croaked. "And what brings you to believe that?" I replied. "Everything that happens repeats itself all over again! It repeats itself exactly the same way it happened the first time! It's like I'm seeing double, only I'm living double. I don't know what's real and what's not anymore! I don't even know if what's happening right now is real!" "Ok, ok, I need you to relax." I said in my most soothing voice.

His face was streaked with tears as he clutched his head in his hands. I was sure it was simply a manner of overstress and anxiety and began writing a prescription for medication for such. "Now tell me more about your work, family, bills. Are any of them particularly stressful?" "You don't understand!" he exclaimed. "It's not just stress! You can't just solve this with your pills and drugs!" "Calm down," I began, "I just want to hel-" "No!" He interrupted. "None of you will take me seriously, I can't take it anymore!" He stood up, knocking the chair over in the process, and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. While a little surprised at this incident, I had uncooperative patients before and did my best to put it behind me and proceed with my day.

It wasn't till later that afternoon as I was on my way home when the

C

artwork by Nevin Crampatanta

58 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 59

VOLUME 4, PART 2

morning's event occupied my thought. I had treated quite a few patients with cases of overstress and anxiety, and they all exhibited some sort of mental breakdown but none had used Deja vu to explain it. I arrived home that evening, ate dinner, read several chapters of William James, Principles of Psychology, had a cup of tea and climbed into bed with my wife. The next morning began much like the morning before, I had arrived at the clinic, said good morning to Darlene and was walking into my office when she called my attention. "Oh! By the way, Harry Davis called and has to cancel his appointment, says he's got a nasty headache." I paused a moment. "Of course. You told me this yesterday." I responded as I walked through the door. Darlene was very attentive, it wasn't like her to forget something like that. I sat down and began filling out paperwork for some psychological testing I had done. I looked over the papers before starting. "Darlene!" I called. "Yes sir?" she said poking her head into my office. "I filled these papers out yesterday."

Puzzled, she walked over to my desk and examined them. "No sir, I just put these on your desk this morning, they came in yesterday afternoon." "That can't be right," I replied, "distinctly remember filling these out yesterday. Never mind, I'll move on to something else."

Twice in one day, I wondered what was behind her mental lapsing. I picked up something else and began working. It was a fairly uneventful day.

Several times however I had to remind a patient we had already discussed something during a previous consultation, he had no memory of doing so, but then there is a reason he was coming to me for psychological help. The day passed and I was leaving the clinic as I passed Darlene. "See you tomorrow, and try to relax and get a good night's sleep," I said as I waved goodbye.

That evening as my wife set the food on the table I was surprised to see she had fixed meatloaf again. She never fixed a meal twice in a row. "Meatloaf again?" I remarked. "No, we had roast beef and mashed potatoes last night, remember?" My wife returned. "I'm pretty sure we had it last night" I said. "It's just the stress getting to you honey. It's been several weeks since I last fixed meatloaf."

She replied. I let it slip. Her food was delicious, even if it was the second time I've had it in the last 24 hours.

The next morning on my way to work, I was stopped at a red-light when I looked over and noticed a green sedan sitting next to me. Funny, the exact same car had been sitting next to me yesterday morning. The light changed and I went on my way. Something didn't feel right though, as I was driving down the street.

Everything I noticed had a familiar feeling to it. No, not just familiar, exactly as it had been yesterday. I'm familiar with coincidences but things were beginning to feel strange. I arrived at work and had an appointment schedule in 30 minutes and decided to have a coffee and check the newspaper while I waited. I picked up the paper and began to read. After reading a little, I realized something was wrong.

This must've been yesterday's paper, for I had read the articles already. I checked

the date, January 7, 2014. That was today's date, so I concluded there had been a misprint. I got up from my desk and walked to the window with my coffee in hand.

As I looked out I saw a construction crew setting up a billboard. My eyes must be playing tricks on me I thought, for the same crew had been putting up the same billboard yesterday. I looked elsewhere, and noticed a black van being towed away in front of the building across the street. That couldn't be right. That same van had been towed away not 5 minutes ago. I walked restlessly back to my desk and rubbed my forehead trying to calm my agitated nerves. Darlene opened the door. "Pamela Evans is here, this is her first consultation." "Yes, yes, show her in." I replied, still quite unsettled. Pamela walked into the room. I pointed to the chair, and asked why she had to come to see me. She began telling me how she had come from an abusive childhood and was now trying to deal with those feelings. I cut her off and informed her that she had already told me this and we needed to move on to what feelings she was dealing with now. She looked shocked and confused. "But this is my first visit. How could I have told you that already?" I was beginning to get flustered. "You told me just a few minutes ago!"

I exclaimed. "But I just walked in a few minutes ago," she replied. I was feeling dizzy, and my heart was racing. "You'll have to excuse me," I said as I stood and began to walk to the door. "But-" I walked out into the reception and headed for the stairs. "Sir, are you alright?" Darlene asked. I'm fine, how many times are you going to ask me!?" I shouted in reply. I was at a jog now. I hurried down the stairs and through the doors onto the sidewalk. I looked around and everything was just as it had been seconds ago. The people, the cars, everything! It's like it was all stuck on repeat! I spun in circles and grabbed my head. "Is this real?" is shouted.

And then I realized. Deja vu.

I now spend my mornings much like I did before, in the psychological clinic. Only now I sit in front of the desk instead of behind it. None of them understand, none of them can comprehend what has happened to me. But why am I repeating myself? I've told you all these before.

C

C

dĂŠjĂ vu 61

poetry third place

artwork nevin

artwork by Nevin Crampatanta

Photograph

by Dean Victor Montalvo

Travelling like a sloth in an illusionary pitch dark world Where I only have my antique filmed camera Capturing the beauty of goodness whom I used to love As the picture imprints in my frozen yet fragile heart A kaleidoscope feeling was par blurry seen In a midget universe I thought I've been To an addictive feeling that I've seemingly seen before Fooled by a lowly nymph trapped in a contemporary photograph Where my camera solely captured and sealed its wonder She brought me into a splendid garden full of fool's flowers A mirror of the past present yet didn't happen I just held for the first time this photograph Yet the illustrations in my mind raveled Creating a delusion that I've been there That feeling is deeply anchored and traveled It somewhat happened in the month of August When my delicate heart was in full exhaust

C

62 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 63

VOLUME 4, PART 2

short story third place

Adobo

by Raxel Ann B. Gonzales

"Anak ng pusa, Arturo! Lasing ka na naman kagabi? Ang hirap naman na may sanggol pa akong inaalagan tas pati ikaw poproblemahin ko pa? Gumising ka na nga at ihahatid mo pa kami!"

Ayun na siya.

Umaga na naman.

Nagising na naman ako ng sigaw at talak ng manok na walang tuka at pakpak, ngunit naka-daster. Palibhasa hindi uso ang alarm clock sa bahay namin.

"Kyla, gumising na nga kayo ni Kyle. Alas nuwebe na oh. Tulungan niyo muna ako at hinahabol ko ang oras ko, aalis pa kami ng tita Thelma niyo papunta ng bayan," sabi ng Mama habang dahan-dahan akong tinatapik sa braso para magising.

"Ano naman gagawin niyo dun, Ma?" tanong ko sa kanya.

"Mag-aapply ng DH sa Qatar, 'nak. Sayang din naman kung palalampasin ko pa," sagot ng Mama.

Nagtinginan na Iang kami ng kakambal ko at napahiling.

Tama si Mama, Anong magagawa ng barya-baryang kita ni Papa kung dalawang estudyante na ang kelangan nyang bayaran ang matrikula? Kung sa bagay' uso na rin naman na umaalis ng bansa yung nanay para maghanap ng pera na ikabubuhay ng pamilya. Konting tiis ng ilang taon na malayo si Mama at pag nakatapos na kami ni Kyle ay kami na rin ang magpapa-aral kay Potpot para pwede na bumalik si Mama.

"O siya. Bumangon na kayong dalawa at kumain na kayo. Ihahatid kami ni Papa nyu dun sa bayan at baka gabihin kami ng uwi. Nagsaing na ako ng marami at nag Iuto na rin ako ng adobo ha,marami-rami din yan kaya pag gabi na at wala pa kami, yun na ang ulamin nyo hanggang mamayang gabi. Kyla, inihanda ko na m ang gatas ni Potpot, aiam mo na ano ang gagawin ha. Tas ikaw Kyle, huwag mo kalimutang magiinis ng bahay at huwag kayo magpapa-pasok ng kahit sino, Ialo na at uso dito yung mga tiktik at manananggal" tugon ni Mama habang nagmamadaling hinahanda ang sarili para sa pag-alis nila papuntang bayan.

"Tiktik? Manananggal? Sus. Hindi totoo yung mga yun," sabi ni Papa. "Bilisan mo na nga Cecilia at nang makaalis na tayo, ang haba pa naman ng byahe natin."

Kumilos na kaming lahat at sinimulan na ang araw namin. Maiiwan na naman kaming tatio sa bahay na waiang kasama kundi si ang aso naming si George na nakatali sa may bandang pintuan ng bahay namin. Napaisip na naman ako sa sinabi artwork by Jessan Cabunsol

C

ni Mama na may adobo dun sa kusina. Umay na umay na ako sa adobo kada alis nila.

Ano ba ang meron sa manok na pinalangoy sa toyo, suka, asin at bawang? Bakit yun Iagi? Sabi ni Mama dahil hindi raw madali mapanis kahit hanggang gabi pa yun.

Nasa gitna ako ng pag-iisip tungkol sa adobo nung biglang may tumawag sa labas ng bahay.

"Tao po?" narinig kong tumawag. Boses ng babae. Baka si Tita Thelma na yun.

Dali-dali naman akong tumakbo at dumungaw sa pintoan para makita kong sino yun.

Babae nga, nakasuot ng mahabang bestida na kulay itim na parang galing siya sa isang lumang pelikula, kulubot ang balat, maputi ang buhok, may nunal sa dulo ng ilong at may sungkod-sigurado ako hindi ito si Tita Thelma.

"Ineng, tulungan mo naman ako at ako'y uhaw na uhaw at pagod na. Nanggaling pa ako sa malayo, patuloy naman sa bahay ninyo" wika ng aleng matanda.

"Ay Iola, teka Iang ho." Tas' tinawag ko si Papa.

Kinakausap ko na si Papa kung papatuluyin ko yung ale, nung biglang sabi ni Mama na wag daw at baka aswang yun. Mabango raw sa kanila ang mga baby eh, parang bagong luto na Iechon daw-mabango at nakakatakam. Baka raw aswangin so Potpot.

Bago pa ako nakaimik ay Iumabas na sina Mama at Papa para tumungo sa bayan, kasabay nun ay pinaalis nila yung ale. Kawawa naman, naisip ko.

Bale naiwan kaming tatlo sa bahay-apat, kung isasali mo yung aso naming suplado.

Buong maghapon, naglinis Iang kami nag bahay, binantayan si Potpot at kumain ng adobo ni Mama.

Di namin namalayan at ang bilis pala ng oras. Alas otso na. Wala pa rin sina Mama.

Baka siguro maraming inaasikaso kay ginabi Iang? Makakauwi din ang mga yun.

Nasa gitna ako ng pag mumuni-muni nung bigla kaming may narinig na parang may pumapagaspas sa ibabaw ng bubong naming-dun banda 3a may ibabaw ng crib ni Potpot Hangin Iang siguro, naisip ko.

Pero may pumapagaspas na naman at lalo ata lumakas. Tapos narinig ko si George na nag-iingay. Hindi naman siya tumatahol pero umuungol na parang nakita si Kamatayan.

Kinabahan na ako.

"Kyle, naririnig mo ba yun?"

"Oo, iba ata yan ah. Kunin mo nga dun si Potpot. Hanap Iang ako ng asin."

"Anong gagawin mo sa asin?" napatanong ako.

"Pangsaboy sa aswang. Hindi Iang yan basta hangin Iang."

Di na ako sumabat pa sa kakambal ko at sinunod ko nlg and inutos niya.

Kukunin ko na sana si Potpot nung biglang may kumakalas sa bubong namin.

C

64 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 65

VOLUME 4, PART 2

Parang kinakalkal ang yero sabay pagaspas - may pakpak ata to, pero hindi to basta ibon Iang.

'Di ko alam kung ano ang susunod kong gagawin. Naisipan kong lumuhod at magdasal. Kung masamang espirito Iang to, mapapaalis 'yon.

Nasa kalagitnaan ako ng pagdasal ng "Ama Namin" nung biglang tumigil ang pagkalas sa bubongan. Sa wakas, nawala na.

Akala ko tapos na nung biglang nagsigawan ang kakambal ko.

"MAY MANANANGGAL! MAY MANANANGGAL! KYLA YUNG ASIN!" Dali-dali kong kinarga si Potpot at pinuntahan ang kakambal ko. Pag Iabas ko ng kwarto, nakita ko na may babaeng nakaitim na may pakpak at Iumilipad na pilit sinisira yung bintana. Pamilyar sakin yung suot niya, parang nakita ko na. tapos bigla kong naalala yung matanda kaninang umaga.

Dyosko! Ito yung matandang ale kanina! Yung malala pa, kalahati Iang siya. Ulo hanggang bewang Iang yung Iumilipad.

Lumabas yata kaluluwa ko sa katawan ko dahil sa takot sa nakita ko. Di ko alam anong gagawin. Napatayo Iang ako at naka-ngangang nakatitig sa manananggal sa bintana.

"KYLA ANO PA INAANTAY MO? YUNG ASIN NASAAN?" "KYLE MAY MANANANGGAL! BAKA KUNIN NIYA SI POTPOT!" "ALAM KO KYLA! Kumalma ka nga muna at hanapin natin yung kalahati nya.

Budboran mo daw ng asin yung parte ng bewang pababa sa paa na hindi Iumilipad at matatalo natin yan."

Pinahiga namin si Potpot sa mesa sa sala at hinanap ko yung kalahati ng manananggal.

Naalala ko si George, umuungol na parang takot.

Tumakbo ako sa may pintuan at pag siiip ko sa baba, nakita ko yung paa at yung palda na itim!

ITO NA YUN! ITO NA YUNG KALAHATI NG MANANANGGAL! "KYLE ANDITO YUNG KALAHATI! YUNG ASIN DALI!" "May problema tayo! Wala nang asin! Naubos ata ni Mama nung nagluto ng adobo kanina!" sagot ni Kyle galing sa kusina.

Narinig ko na lalong Iumakas yung pagkalas dun sa may bintana nung naisip ko yung adobo.

"KYLE YUNG ADOBO DALHIN MO DITO! DALI!" Hindi ko alam kung anong pumasok sa utak ko at yung adobo ang naisipan kong isaboy dun sa kalahati ng manananggal. Walang imik yung kakambal ko na dinala yung kaldero na puno ng manok na Iumalangoy sa toyo, suka, bawang at asin. May asin naman ang adobo diba? Bahala na. Alang-alang kay Potpot.

Binuksan ko agad yung pinto namin at dun nakita kong nakatayo ang kalahati ng ale.

Bewang pababa sa paa at naka itim na palda.

Di na ako nag dalawang isip at binuhos ko lahat ng laman ng kaldero namin sa

C

bewang niya. Di ko rin alam kung paano, pero biglang umapoy yung katawan nya, pati yung kalahati na Iumilipad.

Nagsisigaw siya na parang iniihaw at sinusunog ng buhay. Tapos biglang naging abo yung ale.

Natalo siya ng adobo.

Ang alam ko, asin ang panlaban sa aswang at bawang naman sa mga bampira.

Pero kahit kelan di ko inisip na yung adobo pwede rin para sa manananggal. Akalain mo yun.

Tatakbo na sana ako para kunin si Potpot nung bigla akong natapilok at natumba.

Tapos dumilim lahat.

"Anak ng pusa, Arturo! Lasing ka na naman kagabi? Ang hirap naman na may sanggol pa akong inaalagan tapos pati ikaw poproblemahin ko pa? Gumising ka na nga at ihahatid mo pa kami!"

Naalimpungatan ako. Nagising ako sa talak ng nanay.

Masamang panaginip Iang pala yun.

Bumangon na ako at bumaba na para kumain ng almusal. Adobo yung ulam.

Aalis daw si Mama at Papa pupunta ng bayan at maiiwan daw kaming tatlo ng kakambal ko at ni Potpot. Baka raw gabihin sila kaya dinamihan na ni mama yung niluto niyang adobo.

Nanindig balahibo ko. Parang napanaginipan ko to kagabi ah?

Iisipin ko na lang sana na baka chamba Iang na ganun napanaginipan ko, nang may biglang tumawag sa Iabas ng bahay.

Napatakbo ako para tingnan kung sino 'yon.

Pag dungaw ko, naramdaman kong tumigil saglit ang puso ko sa nakita ko.

Babaeng matanda, nakasuot ng mahabang bestida na kulay itim na parang galing siya sa isang Iumang pelikula, kulubot ang balat, maputi ang buhok, may nunal sa dulo ng ilong, at may sungkod.

Siya ata to.

C

66 Booked

déjà vu 67

VOLUME 4, PART 2

poetry consolation prize

artwork jessan The time, same place The feelings, same face Might screw you up or maybe amaze Make you wonder like a torch in blaze

I make you gasp, make you think Feelings may be gray, either pink A sudden haste, all so abrupt I make the figures seem corrupt

Words, seated in your tongue right at the tip You pour it all, yet no words fit You dive to your core for a minute or two But all you caught were damn fuzzy clue Your gut tells you there's something more You're dying to mean you've been here before No, I am not from your wildest dream.

Wee mortal, I'm merely

Déjà Vu’s Hymn

by Charlyn Celeste

C

artwork by Jessan Cabunsol

C

68 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 69

VOLUME 4, PART 2

short story

consolation prize

Next Time, Perhaps?

by Arielle Angelique S. Cruz

"Just as fate had written, the star-crossed lovers found each other and lived happily ever after."

With a sigh, I shut the book closed, disappointed at the stereotypical ending that it gave.

In this time of romanticized stories and novels most people spend their lives in search of their soul mate or their so-called true love. They would dream up scenarios like fairytales and expect nothing but bliss. l was never like that. I never wished to find him but we have already met.

I have loved him and for a time, he was mine. One would assume that we have had our happy ending but honestly, we have not. Our tale has been one of repeated tragedy. No matter how strong our feelings were, we simply could not be together.

We first met in the 1940s. That time, I was finally allowed to attend the town fiesta where I danced with various people in the plaza. While in the middle of a twirl, I tripped and fell into the arms of a young man with the most beautiful eyes.

"Hello," he greeted. "You must have been dancing so hard for you to fall over."

I could not conceal my blush when I told him, "I suppose so. l have been switching partners all night."

He smiled at that and said, "Then maybe I can be your partner for the rest of the evening. My name is Francisco. You are?"

"I am Lucia."

After that night, we were inseparable. He would send me the sweetest letters and take me on wonderful dates. His sincerity and kindness made it impossible for me not to fall in love. Not long after, he asked me to marry him.

Of course, I agreed. I was ready for a beautiful future with Francisco.

Unfortunately, it just could not be.

The Japanese had begun to occupy and cause trouble in our small community.

Our men were being sent off to war and Francisco was no exception.

I begged him not to go but he said to me, "I have to fight for us and our tomorrow. Please be strong and wait for me. We will be together again."

I held on to that promise while my family and l fled to the mountains for refuge.

Weeks went on and so did the war. Regardless, I continued to pray for Francisco's safety. When I finally received word about him, it was not good news. My Francisco was killed in battle.

A part of me died upon realizing that the man I loved and the future we had planned were lost. I cried for days and refused to eat or sleep. Nothing mattered now that Francisco was gone. Eventually, I too passed away. artwork by Nevin Crampatanta

C

I was born a second time a few years later. I had a new family and was renamed Elena. Despite having memories of being Lucia, I grew up quite normally. This time, there was no war, only poverty.

We had a business of selling flowers at the market and in my late teens, I took over. For a while i found work dull and the customers forgettable. Only after seeing a pair of very familiar eyes did things change.

There was a man who bought flowers every Sunday and I could not ignore how much he reminded me of Francisco. At first I thought I was imagining it but I realized that his eyes were the same as the man I lost a lifetime ago. Perhaps, he was reborn like I was.

With each visit, I tried to get closer to him. He said his name was Severino but in my heart, he was Francisco. We became good friends but I wanted more. I was still in love with Francisco and I wanted our relationship to continue.

There were glimmers of hope, like when he put flowers in my hair or complimented my smile but things never went further.

Getting impatient, l bravely decided to test if he remembered being Francisco and who I was to him.

"Can l ask you something?" I began, hoping not to startle him with my question.

"Of course," he replied, smiling brightly.

Before I could speak again, a woman suddenly approached Francisco.

"Severino, look what I bought for lunch." She said before casually locking arms with him.

Their closeness confused me until l noticed the matching gold rings on their left hands. The two were married.

At that moment, my world came crashing down. Francisco already had a wife and l was trying to claim him as my own.

"Elena, what did you want to ask me?" He said, focusing on me again.

Realizing it was pointless to tell him now, I changed the question, "Which flowers are you buying?"

He looked surprised before awkwardly answering, "The carnations."

Without a word, I gave the flowers and urged him to leave before he could see me cry.

Though disappointed, he agreed. "See you next Sunday, then?" He asked.

I shook my head and lied, "I might be busy. Next time, perhaps?".

He nodded then went on his way with his arm around his wife.

Heart-broken, I cried myself to sleep that night and never woke up. A neighbor's house caught fire and spread to the next houses, including mine. Once again, I died separated from my Francisco.

My third life was not as eventful. As Shiela, I was very sickly that I barely left my house. l was not expected to live long so my parents prayed and attended mass often in hopes that I would be cured.

One particular Sunday, a new priest was assigned in our parish and l could not believe who he was. Francisco was reborn this time as Fr. Simon.

I never dared to approach him, fearing I would lead the young priest astray.

Instead, I sat at a distance; listening to his homilies and watching him work. It was all I could do to get close to him.

C

70 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 71

VOLUME 4, PART 2

My parents, having seen my interest in Fr. Simon, requested for him to bless me and pray for my health. Ever kind, he complied and eventually became our on-call priest.

When my condition took a turn for the worst, it became evident that l was going to need the final rites and prayers for the dying. "ls Fr. Simon coming?" I asked, lying sick and helpless in bed.

My mother frowned and replied, "He has a seminar on another island. He'll be back next week."

I sighed, disappointed. l knew I was not going to live much longer and I had hoped to see Francisco's eyes once more.

"Next time, perhaps," I muttered to myself before my heart finally stopped.

In my fourth life, I promised not to burden myself with finding or being with Francisco. If I was to see him again, I would accept whatever obstacle was to come.

When I finally found him, however, things were a little too simple. His name this time was Joshua while I was Erika. l was in college and so was he. We were in the same school and shared several classes together. We became friends almost instantly and somehow, we were both single too.

The two of us continued to grow closer with nothing holding us back. There was no war, no wife, and no solemn vows. There was only Francisco and l.

Soon enough, he asked me out on a date. We had promised to meet at a cafe after school and I could hardly contain myself. it was as if things were finally turning out for the better Maybe this time, we could have our happy ending.

On the other side of the road, my soul mate was waiting for me, just as I had done for many lifetimes. I took careful steps toward him. I had been waiting for so long that a few more seconds could not hurt.

Halfway across the street, I suddenly heard a scream.

"LUCIA!" Before I knew what was happening, I was thrown into the ground and while the noise of screeching wheels, car horns and people's voices flooded my ears.

"Call an ambulance! There's been an accident!"

"There's so much blood!"

"Someone, help her!"

Random faces crowded around me but only one mattered to me.

"Francisco." I breathed, calling him by his original name. "I'm sorry I can't stay with you."

I knew that I was going to die and it was unfair. Francisco was finally within reach but I was going to be torn away from him once again. The tragedy was repeating itself and I could do nothing to stop it.

Conceding to the cruel twist of fate, I looked deeply into Francisco's beautiful but tear-filed eyes for the last time in this life.

Holding my hand and caressing my face, he whispered to me his parting words of hope.

"It's ok, Lucia. Next time, perhaps?"

C

poetry consolation prize

Chips

by Thea Franchette Andrei Villa

woke up to the smell of freshly baked bread thought you were down there preparing breakfast remembered I moved in a new apartment next to a bakery and that you weren't there put my running shoes on and tied it the way that you taught me how closed the door and stretched and started to jog then I remembered that I didn't lock the door and went back because you always did that stopped by a coffee shop and ordered and got two packets of sugar sat on the table where you always sat and saw the chips that you made on it contemplated adding one to them just to see if you'd notice but I didn't because they should just be yours They say heartaches are never the same but why does it feel the same you are different; but you left a hole all the same.

C

72 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 73

VOLUME 4, PART 2

short story

consolation prize

Every Day

by Thea Franchette Andrei Villa

artwork nikko

C

artwork by En Kahl

My alarm rang and I had no intentions of turning it off. I opened my eyes and it was dark. The only light came from the clock showing 8:02am, Dec. 15.

It felt like every single day. No, seriously. Every day is, was and will be December 15. Each day might not be exactly the same but most things happened repeatedly. At 8:04, Maki, my miniature Schnauzer would jump at my bed and nibble my hand. I looked at the clock. 8:03 AM, 54 seconds. I could hear his puppy foot step rushing into the room and he would do what he's supposed to do.

"Maki!" I pet his head and stood up. I tried to find my way towards the window and opened my curtains. The sun was shining brightly. When was the last time it rained? It drizzled the last time but no more than that. I fixed my hair into a ponytail and went downstairs to prepare for breakfast. Did I even need to eat? Did my physiology alter when this happened? Did my body also "refresh" every night I went to sleep? If I did something big, then will I somehow break this cycle? These thoughts would always enter my mind but I hadn't really tried anything.

I prepared eggs, sausages and toast. Maki came running in from the room and I got a piece of toast and gave bits of it to him. I opened the cupboard and got the container of the sugar and powdered milk. Weird. The sugar container seemed very light.

I opened the container of the sugar just to see it almost empty.

This never happened.

I never ran out.

To think that 'yesterday' it was still full. I only used a few tablespoons of sugar and it would be impossible to be empty today.

Okay, my heart was beating fast. I wanted change but when it was finally happening I was getting scared and wanted everything to be normal even if it meant re-living December 15. I closed the container and put it back. I didn't have an appetite anymore. Instead, I got a glass of water and propped myself up on the couch so that I could watch television to calm myself. "...and now for the weather report."

Please tell me it would be sunny. Please tell me it would be sunny.

"In the morning and mid-afternoon, people will be free to go out and enjoy walking outside since we will be expecting sunny weather and clear skies..."

Good. Sun. Nice. The warmth, the brightness, and the light of it were what I exactly needed.

C

artwork by Nevin Crampatanta

74 Booked

dĂŠjĂ vu 75

VOLUME 4, PART 2

"...however expect cloudiness late afternoon and thunderstorms and rainclouds at night."

The weather forecast had never been wrong, but this was crazy. Thunderstorms?

No way. This wasn't happening. It shouldn't change!

I turned the television off out of frustration and Maki jumped unto the couch and cuddled beside me. I stroked his head. What if this was a sign? A sign that tomorrow would finally be December 16?

Whoa. I was not ready for that or maybe I was. Maybe this was why everything was changing. The sudden revelation turned my fears into hope and happiness.

I immediately got off the couch and decided to go to the market to buy a new pack of sugar and some goods. I showered, dressed, and then went to the nearest bus stop.

I couldn't stop smiling.

Aside from the things that I had to buy, I also made sure to buy a new pair of garden scissors for Mrs. Flay who lived beside me. She would always borrow mine in the afternoon and I felt good about this day.

Since today was different, I wanted to stop by the bookstore. I didn't buy books.

I tried buying one before but it only ended up lost. I didn't know where it went. It just disappeared from my side table before I went to sleep. I opened the door with my shoulder since I was carrying a lot of things.

"Hey, what a dangerous thing you have in your hands." Someone pushed the door to help me get in. I went inside and turned to thank him. "Thanks." I looked at him. He was tall. He was wearing a hoodie and he had short brown hair that was kind of messy and eyes that said something about him that I couldn't quite point out.

"No problem, and are you seriously inside a bookstore with garden scissors?"

He smiled. "Yeah, uhm, no, I mean yes, I am seriously inside a bookstore with garden scissors but I'm going to drop it off the counter first before browsing."

"Great, because you-lit never know what people might do with a pair of those.

I'm Chuck by the way."

"Nice and thanks again. I'm just a wandering passerby." I smiled and turned to drop my things off.

It's useless to meet new people. They never remembered you because every December 15 was a new day for them but a never ending one for me.

After I dropped my things off, I couldn't see him anywhere anymore. I went to my favorite section and decided to buy a book, just a celebration for the oncoming rain and the sugar even if it meant losing it tomorrow.

"You're seriously reading these kinds of books?" I almost dropped the book that l was skimming through.

"Well, what about it?"

"I mean his debut book was good, very good."

"Yeah, that's my favorite one! I'm trying to find it but all i could find are his newer ones."

"Wait, you didn't let me finish. Like I said, his first book was very good, his writing was fresh, something new to bring to the table and he wasn't afraid to experiment with new themes. However, the next books were just okay."

"Just okay?" I tried not to glare at him or maybe I already was. He was insulting my favorite author in front of me and that did not sit well with me.

"The success of his first book became so big that somehow his next books followed the same pattern in terms of development. Different situations, same progression." He looked at me in the eye. I almost took a step-back. "It felt repetitive."

I gulped. Did he know about my predicament? I doubted it.

He smiled. "Anyway, here's the book." He turned for a minute, got the book out from the shelf and handed it over only to take it away from me. "My treat." He went to the cashier and bought it. I didn't have time to protest. I got my wallet out from my pocket and tried to give the money to him.

"I said, my treat." He gave me the paper bag.

"No way, you don't have a reason to do that."

"Can't wanting to do it be reason enough?"

"Why would I accept a gift from a stranger?"

"Because I'm a kind stranger who doesn't have any intentions of luring you inside a van full of candy."

"But instead lure me in with a book. Smart." I laughed at him. Who was Chuck?

"Anyway, thanks for today. I still don't know your name but I'll be seeing you, and I'll have it next time."

There might not be a next time anymore.

He turned around and walked towards the doors.

"Ollie. My name's Ollie."

He didn't turn around, and instead just put his hand in the air as he closed the glass door behind him.

I arrived home just in time before downpour.

Today had been fun, exhausting and something very different.

Different from all the December 15s I have experienced.

I ate dinner, fixed the plates and prepared to go to sleep.

It was again very dark.

Maki jumped unto the bed and lay down beside me.

I could hear the rain on the roof. It was really loud.

I said my thanks: for this day, for Chuck, for the book and for December 15.

I put the book on my side table and closed my eyes hoping for time to move.

--I didn't want to open my eyes. I was scared and excited.

C

C

76 Booked VOLUME 4, PART 2

I wasn't ready.

I should be ready.

I will be ready. l was ready.

My heart was beating fast.

The alarm stopped by itself.

I didn't want to move.

There was now silence.

The rain has long stopped.

I couldn't move.

Something nibbled my hand-Maki.

I let out a sigh.

No. Please.

I opened my eyes.

8:04, December 15.

I knew it.

Yesterday was impossible.

I turned the lights on.

And there it was.

The book.

Impossible! Oh, but it was real.

I opened it on the first page and there was something written on it.

"Breathe. You're not living everyday, you're living every single day. - C" "P. S. See ya on the 15th!"

C

Unwind: An Epilogue

dĂŠjĂ vu 77

by En Kahl

"You happy now?" Handelsre asked while scratching his butt's left cheek. He seemed so confused yet fascinated with what I did.

"Yeah, couldn't complain," I said with a wide smile on my face.

"You just returned people's lives to how they were. And you just sat there and watched them scratch their heads as they wonder what just happened." I never thought this Cow God can speak this long. He was more of a one liner type of guy - or cow - to me.

"Yeah. And it's funny. You said it yourself. We humans are interesting," I said.

"Yeah. Quite interesting."

He stood up once again and gazed his glassy eye on the sea of sparkling diamonds- the universe. He let out a big sigh. "Why did you want to watch them?"

"I don't know. Research? Source of inspiration?"

"How come they we see deja vu in different ways?"

Handelsre thought for a while. He tilted his head to the left. Then to the right. He rubbed his chin. Then his horn. He sniffed. He finally spoke. "That's because you are free. You create your reality based on your own concept of reality. You create fantasy based on your own concept of fantasy."

I stood up from the ground. Once again, human habit, I shook the non-existent dirt off my pants.

"Are you ready to go now? You can't stay here for too long, you know?" Handelsre said, still staring at the universe.

"Yeah. I think so."

"Very well then."

A small shard from the afar came flying to where we were. It halted and floated right in front of me. It looked blindingly bright and cold to the touch. I saw events of human life familiar to me. For that moment, I felt the same feeling everyone felt as I rearranged their lifetimes. I felt the same confusion they felt as they get stuck in the incomprehensible concept of time and space. I touched the shard to look closer. It was my life in there, playing scenes of my past, present, and future in random. Handelsre spoke, "That's the last one. When you're done, you'll find yourself back to the world where you came from."

"Yeah."

"Before you go. Tell me, what are you going to do with the stories of people you've seen?"

"You said it yourself. They're stories. Stories are meant to be written."

"You, humans, really are interesting!"

"I know."

"So, which point of time you want to go back to?"

"To the time before I obtained the reset button."

I touched the shining shard of diamond floating in front of me. The light it emitted began to grow stronger than it already was. The world turned white. Deafness enveloped my whole being. I was lost.

And then I woke up sitting on the floor of my filthy apartment. The musty smell of the carpet stung my nostrils as I inhaled for relief. I couldn't remember anything. I couldn't even remember this yellow book full of peculiar stories and poems and drawings that I was holding. All I remember was a button laying in front of me. On it was written: RESET.

C

profiles Lee Renz Balberona. More than an anime enthusiast, Renz also spends time pondering about life. He admits to being an escapist but somehow points out that being such has actually given him more insights into the real world.

M. Katherine. This cool chick is currently sporting a skin-head but when it comes to her love life, she has hair longer than that of Rapunzel’s. This watercolor bender can also rock out some awesome dance moves.

Nevin Crampatanta. When not painting or solving equations, this civil engineer in-the-making likes to sing along to classic OPM songs or deliver jokes – may it be funny or not.

Thea Franchette Andrei Villa. She describes herself as “a mess pretending to be a motivated college student”. She may be shy at first but once she warms up you’ll discover a lady full of wit and humor.

Alyssa Marie Arceño. Aly conjures up literary verses the way she bakes her cakes. Sweet and delectable, making you want for more.

Charlyn Celeste. Charlyn and her artistic command of words and syntax defines her cheerful and cute personality. Her pieces take more than mere form and substance. Charlyn can tie up words into intrinsically constructed verses that will surely play poetic music to it’s readers’ ears.

Dean Victor Montalvo. This multi-talented Education student ventures out into the world of literature with his well constructed verses. His attempt to get his work published before he graduates has paid off.

Jeanher Mae Mahinay. The perpetually sleepy Her-her knows how to weave her creative strings the way she weaves her dreams. Sleeping or otherwise.

Jireh Earl Parrocho. More than his obvious love for anime and basketball, the jolly Mr. Parrocho also has the modern master’s literary skills that turns inkblots to amazing stories like alchemy.

Kevin Ciano. Applying his acquired skills and knowledge from his major, Kevin shows his poetic prowess with his piece The Elusiveness. He likes singing his heart out whenever the teacher is late or absent.

Kris Angela Louisse Dadivas. She can rap, dance and sing. A day will never be boring once this lady is around. She’ll hook you with a pick-up line or two and infect you with her energy and fierceness.

Lesli Braza. Lesli and her “Pedicab” tell the beauty and ruthlessness of reality. Her incredible story telling skills surely packs a lot of punch that keep readers dreamy in fiction and wide awake in reality.

Michael Kate Abella. Michael’s poetic tongue retells the narrative of the so called life. His mature yet innocent personality is reflected upon his work “Daydreams”-- a quality poets alike naturally posses.

Anamae Lachica. This young lady is very kind and very honest with her opinion on some things in life. Anamae likes to fantasize her favorite manga characters that she would even dress up like they do if she could.

Christine Dula. She is a simple and poetic girl who is fond of stalking cats. In fact, Christine spends some of her time taking selfies with her dormmate cat “Bilbo”.

En Kahl. This mysterious guy likes to write down and paint his thoughts on blank canvases, share them with others, and discover together the hidden hues of life. He has unique ingredients of crafting his literary pieces into something that could leave you uncertain.

Jenny Requieron. This loving lady wears her sweet smile most of the time. She likes to write down her experience both joyful and painful.

Joebert Valdez. This guy is definitely very delicate, especially when you criticize his works.

However, what is good about Joebert is he knows how to accept criticisms and improves himself with them. Lastly, he is very in love with a girl who always supports him every time he cracks not-so-funny jokes.

Kristine Lamonte. This soon-to-be Civil Engineer sees time so precious that she attacks life at her best. And she rises when she falss and tries again as long as the battle isn’t over yet.

Lester Esler. This cool lad loves learning from life’s lessons. Lester is a friend to run to if you have hesitations about life. He likes expressing his feelings through words and sounds.

Michael Librando. He is a kind friend who spends most of his break time playing video games.

However, there are times when he would go out at night to watch the sky.

Nomads. With guts and skills, Nomads can show you his creativity and passion in dancing. He has his own dance moves and has many plans and ideas about life, even in small unnecessary things.

Raxel Ann Gonzales. She writes some of her stories based on her life and experience. This soonto-be-teacher-slash-writer-slash-beauty-queen-slash-loving lady has a strong character that is hard to be destroyed.

Arielle Angelique Cruz. This lady roots for the misunderstood bad guy and supports Tom Hiddleston’s Marvel character, Loki. When she’s not busy testing blood samples, this Med Tech student reads books or catches up with her favorite TV series.

Danielle Francis Olsen. She is at the top of her class, yet aside from the academic excellence, she also dreams of becoming a Victoria’s Secret angel one day. With her lean physique, this goal can’t be that far.

Jamie Jelle Guino-o. She sports a sleek jet-black hair complete with equally straight bangs and a get-up likened to that of Sunako. Yet, when she’s not drawing or writing, she can also serenade you with her guitar and angelic voice.

Nicole Villavecer. Nick once again proves that his masterful story-telling skills are well kept and as sharp as it has always been. His piece “Cecilia” tells us so.

Jessan Cabunsol. He may be small but what he lacks in size is made up with his model looks. He can belt out a song regardless of the tune while dancing. He certainly knows how to work hard and play harder.

Norman Baldomar, Jr. A man with a passionate craving for bacon and potatoes, he is currently unsure of what he wants to be, but being a national broadcaster is certainly on the list.

Kendall Rancis Segovia. Dubbed as the genius of the classroom, he is one of those lucky students who, despite some absence in class, still get high grades in the end. He is anything but predictable.

Valerie Anne Buenconsejo. Valerie’s first attempt in short story writing surely was a good shot.

This witty and sweet girl turns a simple plot line to an elaborate experimental narrative.

Paul Justin Deoma. Aside from writing poems, this graduating Med Tech stud likes to take photographs that forever captures the sanctity and beauty of a moment.

TOLENTINESTAR TOLENTINE

THE OFFICIAL STUDENT PUBLICATION OF THE UNIVERSITY OF NEGROS OCCIDENTAL- RECOLETOS

+639428071947 | tolentinestar@gmail.com

Editorial Board

JESSAN CABUNSOL Editor in Chief

Editorial Assistants JOEBERT VALDEZ Finance and Inventory CHERRY MAE CORDOVA Human Resource Senior Editors JOHN KAYE DELOSTRICO JEANHER MAE MAHINAY Desk Editors THERESE AMOR PANZO Feature Editor NIKKO PAOLO CALUMPIANO Literary Editor Technical Editors NEVIN CRAMPATANTA Graphics Editor NORMAN BALDOMAR, JR. Layout Editor Staff Writers JOHN LESTER ALMOSA ALYSSA MARIE ARCEÑO VALERIE ANNE BUENCONSEJO NESKA CENTINA JANE PAULINE DOLOCANOG MAEGAN FRUTO JAMIE JELLE GUINO-O JIEZL MARIE HUCALLA JANELLE GAY MARANDE ROAN HOPE OCABAN DANIELLE FRANCIS OLSEN CRISTITHA SIPULAN Cartoonist ANAMAE LACHICA Photojournalists JOSE MADISON CRAMPATANTA, JR. PAUL JUSTIN DEOMA ALEJO ANTONIO MONDEJAR CHRISTELLE VILLARUZ Website Administrators KEITH DANIELLE BALCEDA VINCENT ANGIELO SUYO Ms. IVY GONZALES-ABOY Technical Adviser

Tolentine Star would like to express its most sincere thanks to the following: The God Almighty for the unending blessings of strength, patience, and intelligence he has given us during the production of the folio; The Gawad Tolentino Participants for sharing their god given gift of transmuting words to wonderful pieces of literature.

(For the second time around, thank you.); The students and contributors for entrusting your hard labored works with us. (The spirit of the publication will always be the student body it serves.); The teachers for encouraging your students to participate and contribute in this year’s Booked. (Your nobility and passion for excellence made it easier for us to fill the pages of this folio.); Ms. Ivy G. Aboy for providing us your expertise in the field of writing and literature. (We will always be grateful for all your support.); Sir Genn Tomas for letting us utilize your office as an extension of our workplace and, quite heartwarmingly, our homes; and The DSA for all the help, warranted or otherwise, ever since.

As long as there are people behind our backs giving life to the pages of creative writing, we will keep on thanking the universe and its dwellers. Over and over again. Over and over again. Over and over again.

Tolentine Star would like to express its most sincere—wait.

Literary Editor