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Post by diane gemme on Apr 18, 2008 19:22:58 GMT 8
isa pa..
nung 2nd year kami nun...
may alay lakad yung buong calamba nun... eh kasali ako sa drum and lyre nun.. so kasali kami, 4am dapat andun na kami.. pero ang usapan namin ng mga kasama ko agahan.. mag-goghost hunting nga daw kami.. maaga kami dumating, tpos may dala pang videocam yung isa kong kasama... pag-akyat namin sa 2nd floor ng building namin, kukunin namin yung lyre namin, nagkakatakutan na.. e likas na matatakutin ako... binilisan namin yung pag-akyat tapos binuksan yung ilaw ng clasrum.. sa rum namin kitangkita yung mga bintana ng library... wala na yung tensyon namin nun.. gumagala na uli yung mata ko ng biglang mapatingin ako sa nakabukas na bintana ng library namin.. aaah!! kinilabutan talaga ko nun, may babae kasing mejo madilim yung itsura niya.. pinanonood kami.. binulong ko yun sa mga kasama ko kaya nagtakbuhan kami.. ü
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Post by diane gemme on Apr 18, 2008 19:27:52 GMT 8
yung library daw kasi namin may "residents"... yung katapat na room ng library ginawang bodega na lang imbis na classroom..
isang araw daw yung mga librarians nakikinig sa radyo ng biglang may sumingit sa kanta na babae sabi.. tulunga niyo ko.. tulungan niyo ko..
tapos yung isang staff daw dun gabi na nung umuwi, may nakitang babae na masama ang tingin, tumalon daw yung staff na yun... pero mababaw lang naman.. karipas daw ng takbo yun eh...
yung section namin maraming adventures na ganyan.. teka aalalahanin ko.. ü
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Post by diane gemme on Apr 25, 2008 20:51:16 GMT 8
kwento pa kayo d2 ng ghost stories... ayokong matulog ngayon eh.. hehe, ü
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☺cherry☻
Senior Member
☺☺I lOvE mY sElF..!☻☻
Posts: 2,564
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Post by ☺cherry☻ on Apr 27, 2008 18:56:12 GMT 8
mewon akong story...
--nang yari ito nung 2nd year high school pa akoh.. nagpa-practice kami sa cheering nun.. (kapal kc ng mukha ng lola kaya sumali ako)well sa pag kakatanda mga 8:00 or 9:00 na ng gabi nun.. nag-water break kami edi.. todo pahinga 5 mins lang daw... nakaupo kami sa hagdan ng stage.. ng marinig namin na tumili si kim, napalingon kami sa kanya nakita namin xang umiiyak.. nilapitan ko xa and ask her "why?" sabi niya meron daw xang nakitang lalaki sa itaas ng building... ang tinutukoy nyang taas ay iun main building.. nung tumingala ako wala naman akong nakita sabi ko "wala naman eh. and bakit magkakaroon ng tao sa taas sarado na iun gate tau na lng ang tao dito" than she said.."meron akong nakita nakadungaw pa nga xa..hindi naman talaga akoh titingin sa taas kung walang sumisit-sit saken" nagulat kami tinanung namin xa kung anung itsura ng nakita sabi nya... "lalaking may sungay na ngingitim ang kanyang mga mata tapos tumatawa" sabi ng trainor namin wag na lng daw namin pansinin... pero dahil sa ikinuwento ni kim natakot na kaming lahat... and tinapos na iung practice namin bukas na lng daw.. --the end--
sana may natutunan kau sa story na ito.. wag masyado mag pagabi sa pag uwi..
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☺cherry☻
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☺☺I lOvE mY sElF..!☻☻
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Post by ☺cherry☻ on Apr 27, 2008 19:14:31 GMT 8
may stories ako pero hindi koh totoong karanasan iung iba ikinukuwento lng iung iba kinukuha koh lng din sa internet.. like this one
HOLY Thursday.
The house loomed over the street. Massive. Windows gaped open like mouths. So this would be summer for me. There were other houses nearby, but not as big and old as this one. As I stood outside the rusty iron gate, Doray came running out of the heavy wooden door. It was almost sundown.
"You're finally here. I've been waiting since morning." She kissed me on the cheek.
"The bus broke down," I sighed and gave her a hug.
She brought me inside the house. The basement was dark. A familiar scent filtered through my nose. I sneezed.
"It's old wood, remember?"
SHE had brought me to Ibajay, Aklan, a year ago for her Lola Conching's 90th birthday. We stayed for a couple of days.
Doray and I usually spend summer at beaches. She suggested that we spend this particular one in her Lola Conching's house. I declined at first, but couldn't bear the thought of going to the beach without her. So we made a deal. An hour's ride from Ibajay was a white sand beach.
"I promise." She held up her hand. "We'll go to Boracay after. You just have to see how they spend Holy Week in my Lola Conching's town."
"But I'm not even a practicing Catholic," I protested.
"Don't deny it Burt Macaraig," Doray pointed her accusing finger at me." Once I saw you lighting all the candles in church so that Rona would live."
Ask and you shall be given. I thought that was the doctrine of the Church. Rona died of abuse three years. ago. She was one of those deaf children we took care of in the Center. The twelve-year old girl was suddenly missing one day. When we finally found her in a cemetery, her body had been battered. She lingered in the hospital for two days. The pain was deeply etched on her face. Even her pleas for comfort had ceased to be human.
"All right, all right." I gave up. "We'll go to your Lola Conching's house first, purify our souls during Holy Week and burn them after in Boracay."
Doray and I have been the best of friends since college. We were drinking buddies. Everybody on campus thought we were a couple. In a way we were, since we were always together. After college we went on to do volunteer work for the deaf. We thought we would be serving the best of humanity. But the truth was we were both reluctant to get an eight-to-five job. We called that a straitjacket.
For some reason I wasn't able to make it on the day Doray and I were supposed to leave for Ibajay.
"You'd better follow, mister," she warned, her hand balled to a fist.
SAN Jose Street, Ibajay. Doray told me that on Holy Week the townspeople follow a certain tradition. Her Lola Conching owned a Santo Entierro, the dead Christ. It had been with the family for years. Every year, during Holy Week, they would bring out the statue and everybody would participate in the preparation. Some people would be in charge of dressing up the statue while others would take care of decorating the carriage that would carry it through the streets.
"What's so exciting about that?"
"It's a feast, Burt, a celebration."
I thought it was ridiculous celebrating death. There was something eerie about the whole idea.
"Lola Conching, do you remember Burt?" Doray asked as we got to the landing.
The old woman sat on a chair carefully lighting candles on the altar in front of her. Her lips reverently moved in silence and her gaze was strange as if she wasn't looking at any of the images in particular. It was this same sight that greeted me a year ago.
"The old woman of the candles," I whispered to Doray on our first visit.
"He's here to help in the activities for the Holy Week."
"It's good to see you again, Lola Conching."
"Did you have a good trip? Perhaps you need to rest."
The old woman stared at me. Her face looked tired. It sagged with wrinkles. But I could see there had been beauty there ages ago. The fine line of her brow softly curved to gray almond eyes. Her nose suggested not Spanish descent. Beside her was a wooden cane bedecked with shells intricately embedded, forming a floral design.
"Come." Doray led me through the living room. Carved lattice frames on walls complemented the chandelier made of brass and cut-glass.
"Where is the rest of the family?"
"They'll be here in the morning," Doray said as she opened the door to the bedroom.
I stepped inside.
"You'll sleep here." She indicated. "That's the washroom."
"And the other door to the right leads to your room," I recalled.
Lola Conching was blind. She suffered greatly at the hands of the Japanese. This I came to know last year. Lola Conching was a comfort woman. She had to give in so her parents could be saved. At first she resisted. Then the Japanese hit her on the head with a plank of wood. She became blind. Then she got pregnant.
Was it her story or was it for want of a grandmother that somehow had drawn me to her?
"I think I'll rest for a while," I said quietly.
"Yes, do," she replied as she opened the door to her room. "We'll have diiner later"
-to be continue-
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☺cherry☻
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Post by ☺cherry☻ on Apr 27, 2008 19:15:02 GMT 8
The room was replete with old wooden heads of saints. Some had no eyes, but they looked real. I shivered--a familiar feeling. In front of my bed was a cabinet with glass casing. It was empty. The whiff of camphor from the wooden heads made me dizzy and I fell asleep. Soundly.
I WOKE up to the sound of voices. A soft stream of morning light seeped through the gauze of the mosquito net. I hurriedly washed and dressed. Then I opened the door and stepped out of the room. There were people moving around, talking.
"Burt Macaraig?" An elderly woman looked at me knowingly.
"Yes. Burt, you've met Tiya Basyon," Doray began. "And Tiya Patring, Tiyo Lindo, my cousins Ted, Joey, Ina, Elena, Nicky and Damian."
"Well, I'm back." I didn't know what else to say.
"Let's have breakfast." She tugged at my arm. "Everybody has eaten."
The combination of dried fish, scrambled eggs and fried rice sprinkled with chopped onion leaves made me very hungry.
"Nobody here eats meat on Good Friday," Doray explained as we sat down. "It's the belief."
I was too hungry to mind whatever Doray was trying to say.
"I didn't bother to wake you up last night," she said between bites. "You were snoring and I took care not to wake you when I put up your mosquito net."
"I fell asleep as soon as I hit the pillow."
"Did Burt have a good sleep last night, Doray?" Lola Conching asked as she walked into the dining room.
She sat on the chair at the head of the table. It was uncanny how she could move with just a cane. She seemed to know every inch of space in her house.
"Good morning," I greeted her.
"Ah, there you are." Her head followed the sound of my voice. "Did you sleep well last night?" "Yes, I did."
"You should. You will be doing many things today."
After breakfast, we went downstairs. The light from the bulb coated the basement in amber. I sneezed. In a corner was the carriage. Black. It was lined with leaves of silver. On the carriage was a casing whose sides were made of glass. Angels with dark faces adorned each of the upper four corners. The carriage looked ominous, like a hearse. Tiyo Lindo and Tiya Patring came in.
"Boys, let's do this together." Tiyo Lindo went to the carriage and started pulling it out from the corner. All of us did our share. The wheels creaked.
"It needs oiling," Tiyo Lindo said.
We positioned the carriage under the bulb.
"Why don't we just open the door?" I suggested. "Then we can have light."
"No, don't," Tiya Patring said. "It's a tradition. Nobody should see the Santo Entierro until everything is done."
I helped polish the carriage, shining the leaves of silver lining. With agility Ted climbed the carriage and dusted the wooden top of the casing. Tiyo Lindo wiped the inside of the glass. No way would I go in there, I thought. It would be like going inside a coffin.
"We're ready with the Santo Entierro," one of the girls called out. They had been cleaning the body.
The dead Christ was laid out on a mat. My stomach tumbled over. I felt like I was looking at a corpse in a morgue.
"Are you all right?" Doray approached me. She had been arranging the flowers and leaves of palm.
"Look," I said quietly. "I don't know what this is all about, but I'm not at all comfortable."
"What is it?"
"The dead Christ. I just don't like it." I sneezed. "And this scent of old wood, it's driving my nose nuts."
She laughed.
"What is so funny?" I looked at her squarely.
"That's what you get for being a heretic." She brushed my face with the bouquet she held in her hands.
"Oh, stop that." I wiped my face. "I think I'd better go upstairs for a while and rest."
"Don't be so lazy. Lola Conching won't like that kind of attitude."
"Well, she's not my grandmother in the first place." I made my way up.
Lola Conching was sitting by the altar when I got to the top of the stairs. The subtlety of light coming from the candles caressed the features of her tired face.
"Are you done?"
I was startled.
"No, Lola Conching."
"Who are you?" Her voice was stern. "Ah, you're Burt."
"Yes, Lola Conching." I was relieved that she recognized me.
"What are you doing up here?" she curtly asked.
My throat went dry.
"I want to rest for a while. I'm feeling quite sick because of the smell of old wood."
"I light candles for the Santo Entierro because it is most precious to us. It is our indu1gencia," declared Lola Conching. "It protected us during the war. Doray's father was a baby then."
I sat down in front of the old woman.
"You mean the Santo Entierro has some kind of power?" My curiosity started to grow.
"Yes, it does." Lola Conching confirmed. "It protects us from the evil of Good Fridays. Aswang."
I almost snickered. But in her voice was the weight of her belief. Aswangs, witches were myths to my knowledge. They would fly at night using their huge bat-like wings. Their hands had claws for fingers, and their teeth were razor sharp. They would look ghoulish, eyes gleaming bright red. But at daytime they were beautiful.
My gaze was transfixed on the old woman's face. I searched for the delicate features that used to be there.
"They come out on the eve of the death of Christ." Her voice slightly quivered. Was it fright I heard? Or a threat?
I was getting edgy on my seat. Faith, belief, knowledge boiled up, blurring my mind.
"You'll see on Good Friday. When the moon rises, all windows are shut in houses except ours," she proudly declared. "Windows in this house are left wide open."
It dawned on me. The Santo Entierro was not the family's iindulgencia. It was hers--for all the fears she kept inside.
"I thought you went to sleep." Doray had come upstairs.
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☺cherry☻
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Posts: 2,564
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Post by ☺cherry☻ on Apr 27, 2008 19:15:34 GMT 8
"No, I was talking to your Lola Conching," I stammered. Cold sweat dripped down my forehead.
"I told him stories about the Santo Entierro," the old woman said with an air of accomplishment.
"Let's go." I grabbed Doray's arm.
For the first time I felt afraid. Yet I could not understand why. I raced downstairs. Doray came after me.
"Wait," she called.
Everybody stared at me blankly when I got to the basement. I turned around and faced Doray. We almost bumped into each other.
"Can we go for a walk?" I panted.
We went to the plaza in front of the church. We were both quiet. I pondered why she brought me to this strange place. I felt she had done it on purpose. I never questioned events, phenomena. I always took them as though they were a natural order of the cosmos, like birth and death. True, I did light candles for Rona, but the girl died nonetheless. I felt humiliated. That menial task was my turning point. Never again did candles burn.
"This is where the procession ends," she said as we sat on a concrete bench. We were facing the church. "The procession goes around, through several streets and it ends here at about seven in the evening."
"Do you believe in your Lola Conching's stories about the Santo Entierro?"
Doray looked lost in thought. She groped for words.
"I don't have any answers, Burt. But this is what I can tell you." Her eyes brightened up. "What I saw was the crowd surging toward the Santo Entierro as it got to the door of the church. It was a mad scramble. Everybody wanted a piece of the Santo. They say its hair or any part of its clothing can be used as an amulet, a protection against evil spirits."
Another mythical explanation.
"I'm hungry." I stood up and we went back to the house.
Lunch was quick. Everybody was rushing to finish the morning's activity for the procession in the afternoon.
I went to sleep. In the first place, vacations were meant for naps. Besides I felt I had done my share already with the carriage.
"Burt." I heard Doray's voice through my slumber. "It's time to get ready."
"Hmmm," I protested. I was too tired to do anything.
"Wake up, sleepyhead." She sat on the bed. "You've been sleeping for hours. Come on." She gave me a gentle slap on my face.
"All right." I rubbed my eyes and got out of bed.
"Call me when you're ready." She stood up and went inside her room.
When Doray and I went downstairs, I gasped at the sight that greeted me. There was the Santo Entierro inside the glass casing of the carriage. Asleep. Its long golden brown hair was spread out like a fan. Its body covered with the richness of white and red velvet was adorned with beads of gold. The carriage was bedecked with sprays of palms and flowers, the ones used for funerals. Trinkets of lights illuminated the whole presentation. Death never had this brilliance.
"Well, we're ready," Tiya Patring said.
The boys--Ted, Joey, Nicky and Damian--opened the door and pulled the carriage out. A small crowd stood outside. They applauded as we made our way into the street behind the image. They made the sign of the cross and followed us. As we neared the church, I could see other carriages lined up, each one carrying a different image representing Lent. We were made to position somewhere at the end of the line. And the procession began. The band with scant composition of trumpets and drums lazily accompanied our strides. I snickered.
"Shhh," Doray warned.
When the sun came down, some people started handing out candles.
"Want to light one?" Doray slyly offered.
The procession went on for about two hours. People lined the streets. There were old people sitting on wheelchairs. Soon they would drown in the shadow of the evening. I thought of Lola Conching left alone in the house seeing the whole procession in her mind as she prayed for her soul. In her house candles burned like tired spirits.
When we neared the end of the procession, the carriages were brought inside the church.
"Let's go." Doray pulled me.
"Where?" I thought this would be the most awaited event of the day.
But her clutch slipped off my arm.
Then I saw a throng of people rushing towards us. Joey, Nicky and Damian struggled to pull the carriage to the entrance of the church. On top of the carriage were Tiyo Lindo and Ted brandishing wooden canes like warriors. Everyone was trying to get near the Santo Entierro. I was trapped. I couldn't get out from the sea of bodies. The wave threatened to crush me. I couldn't breathe. I was drowning. Some people had tears streaming down their faces, sobbing. Others screamed as Tiyo Lindo and Ted hit their hands with their wooden canes.
"The hair," someone shouted. "A strand of hair."
"No, don't!" I could no longer hear myself as I went down, pressed by the rush of wave.
Suddenly Tiyo Lindo and Ted were pulling me up. I slumped on the wooden top of the carriage, catching my breath. Below, the maddened faces of people receded as we entered the portals of the church.
We jumped off the carriage. Sweat pasted my shirt on to my skin. I felt we had gone through a siege. But the carriage was intact. The glass remained unbroken. The leaves of silver lining still glistened. Everything was in place. The rest of the boys, Joey, Nicky and Damian, volunteered to stay behind while we went home for dinner.
"You were lucky you didn't get crushed," said Ted.
I did not bother to say anything. I had not seen raw madness before.
"Is he all right?" Lola Conching asked me as we got to the top of the stairs.
"Burt," Doray came towards me. We need not say anything to each other. Tears were about to fall from my eyes.
"It's all right," I held her hands tight. "I'll be fine."
Later that evening we stayed in my room and drank whiskey.
"I'm sorry, Burt, I tried to get through." She recalled what happened earlier that evening.
We were silent for a while.
"It was so weird. They were scrambling. Those people were fanatics."
"The first time I saw it I thought I would go down on my knees." She smiled in disbelief.
Doray left at midnight to sleep in her room. I tossed in bed. I kept thinking about the mad rush of the crowd towards the Santo Entierro. What awesome power for one made of wood to draw the tide toward himself. My mind reeled. It was Black Saturday. The day of the dead Christ.
In the haze of alcohol, I got out of the room and cautiously made my way down the stairs and out of the house. I went out into the street and walked to the church. The moon had risen, big and bright. Its color oozed beyond its shape and bled the sky. The street was silent. As I neared the church, I heard its door open. It moaned. In the dimness of the surroundings I saw four men coming out of the church. They were carrying something wrapped in white sheets, like a dead man. It was the Santo Entierro! Oblivious of my presence, they struggled with its weight. Slowly I took several steps back. I turned around and cautiously walked back to the house. Then I saw that the windows of the other houses were shut. Tight. I remembered what Lola Conching said about the witches. I ran towards the house, racing against the pounding in my chest. Then I swiftly ascended the stairs. When I got to my room, I threw myself on the bed. At a surprising rate, I tucked the mosquito net in and closed my eyes. The Santo Entierro was stolen, the Santo Entierro was stolen! This I kept repeating to myself. I wanted to get up and tell Doray. But I was feeling too heady. I felt I was going to throw up. I closed my eyes and cascaded down into a labyrinth of darkness. Then I heard a flapping on wings. Wak, wak, wak. It flapped in the breeze blowing through my window. Wak, wak, wak. There it was again. I bolted up, charged with a current of electricity running through my veins. The mosquito net plunged down. I struggled against the mesh of its gauze. Then I saw the Santo Entierro! It stood inside the glass cabinet in front of my bed. I screamed. The shrillness shot through the stillness of San Jose Street.
"Burt," Doray rushed in. I screamed again. She peeled the mosquito net away. Then I felt her hands, her arms holding me close. I was drenched with sweat.
Someone knocked on the door.
I looked at the glass cabinet in front of my bed. It was empty.
"The Santo Entierro was stolen." I breathlessly whispered to Doray.
"The what?" She barely heard me.
"The Santo Entierro." I punctuated each word.
Doray stood up and opened the door. Lola Conching entered the room.
The Santo Entierro was stolen!" I cried. "It was stolen."
Lola Conching covered her face, fingers digging into her skin. Her breathing came in spasms. The rest of her kin stood behind her. I got out of bed.
"Where are you going?" Doray asked.
"To the church."
I grabbed Lola Conching and carried her in my arms as if she were a child. She weakly struggled against my strength.
"Leave her alone!" Doray cried. The rest of the family encircled us like the crowd that earlier surged towards the Santo Entierro.
"No!" I stared at them.
And we all marched down into the darkness of the street, all the way to the church. Lola Conching buried her face my chest. Her resistance was drowned in her sobbing.
The door of the church was open when we got there. Some people had left it open. We made our way through the carriages inside the shadow of the church's belly. Images loomed. Near the altar stood the black carriage with leaves of silver lining. I Set Lola Conching down on the floor She grappled with my feet, whimpering.
"Here." Tiya Patring offered me a candle. I took it.
"Light all the candles, Burt," Doray's voice quivered.
I numbly walked around the church and lit all the candles I could find. My hands shook. Lola Conching wailed Then I saw it. It was there. The Santo Entierro glistened inside the glass casing of its carriage.
"It's here, Lola Conching." My lips trembled. "The Santo Entierro is back!"
We all looked at Lola Conching, still slumped on the floor. She had stopped crying.
"Put out the candles," Lola Conching commanded.
Nobody moved. For a while everybody had stoned expressions on their faces.
"Put out the candles." This time her voice came undaunted.
One at a time her kin blew out the flames. Their somber faces were ghosts extinguished with the past. The Santo Entierro faded into darkness.
I sank to my knees with the last candle in my hands. Lola Conching rose. Layers of tormented skin peeled off her face that came to the light. I saw her real beauty. Immaculate, a flower whose petals would wither with a careless brush of fingers. I saw a girl of eighteen whose face was as fine and gentle as the hair of the wind. Then the features slowly changed with the diminishing flame. And between light and darkness was Rona's face completely devoid of pain.
The light of the candle in my hands flickered and died as Lola Conching's blind eyes gave way to tears that had welled through the years. In the darkness of the church I bowed my head as I convulsed with my own truths. Lola Conching held on to my arms as I held on to the candle. I could smell the pregnant whips of smoke rising from the faint orange glow of its wick.
Black Saturday. And now, Easter Sunday.
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☺cherry☻
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☺☺I lOvE mY sElF..!☻☻
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Post by ☺cherry☻ on Apr 27, 2008 19:16:46 GMT 8
THE SUMMER OF MY 17TH YEAR
FRIDAY, April 5, 2002
IT was hot this morning when I went to the Masbate pier with my older cousin John. School was out and the dry season had begun. The air was still, making it feel hotter yet—the usual breeze that comes from the sea seemed to have gotten lost somewhere. We were there to meet his college friend who was visiting our island for the first time. They hadn’t seen each other since his friend moved to the States right after they graduated from college. That was five years ago.
John pointed him out to me when he came down the gangplank off the ferry from Lucena. Although he did not look too unlike the other passengers, there was something uncommon about him. Maybe it was the high backpack and small bamboo suitcase he carried that made him look out of the ordinary. Or maybe it was because his shirt and pants weren’t neatly ironed like the others. His hair was mussed up but he didn’t seem to care. He didn’t exactly look like a bum—he even made it look like wrinkled clothes were what everybody else should have been wearing if they wanted to be in style. He looked like an exciting kind of guy who didn’t care what others thought of him—the kind who might just be the one I needed to make my life less humdrum.
He and my cousin exchanged greetings and talked for a while before he acknowledged my presence and introduced himself. “My name is Tim, it was really Timoteo before I went to Los Angeles.” He laughed as if he thought one had to go to Los Angeles to get an American nickname.
“I’m Minda, John’s cousin. My family and I live next door to him.”
“Oh, good. Then we’ll see a lot of each other.” After that, he promptly ignored me again and resumed his conversation with John.
John drove us home in his car with Tim in the front seat. I was in the back with Tim’s luggage. They had so many things to tell each other to get fully updated with what had happened since they last saw each other. I wanted to tell them there’d be enough time later for all that. I felt left out.
My cousin John had always been the most adventurous member of our clan. He went to college in Manila and did pretty well as far as grades were concerned. He surprised me when he returned to Masbate to stay and take care of his family’s cattle ranch. He did that after devoting four years of his life to earn a college degree. I couldn’t understand that.
I wish I can be like John but I can’t. Instead of Manila, I have chosen to go to Los Baños for college when the school year opens. Not only is it closer, it is also less chaotic.
John has always been my favorite cousin because he is the only one in my family who can understand young people like me. I was born eight years after my older brother, who in turn was two years younger than John. That makes me a lot younger than all my siblings and cousins. It is sometimes an advantage in that they pamper me and let me get away with things they normally wouldn’t have. At the same time, it makes me feel lonely because I have very few people I can share my feelings with. Often, I’m afraid they will think the things that bother me are silly so I keep them to myself except when I can talk to John.
SATURDAY, April 6, 2002
I SAW Tim again this morning when I stepped out the front door. He was in the yard next door, looking lost and alone. He came over when he saw me.
“Where’s everybody?”
“Oh, John will be back soon. He must have left early to check on the ranch.”
“What about you? Why aren’t you in school?”
“Don’t you know it’s summer break?”
“Gosh, I forgot. Summer in America starts in June.”
“Besides, it’s Saturday today.”
He looked at me sheepishly. “Oh, my God. I can’t even keep track of what day of the week it is anymore. I’m getting old.”
I didn’t mean to embarrass him so I was glad he took it lightly. I said, “It’s okay. It’s still Friday in America.” I was beginning to appreciate that the “useless” information I had learned in school wasn’t so useless after all.
He gazed at me as if trying to figure out what kind of person I was. I suddenly felt shy—it was a strange and unfamiliar feeling for I wasn’t a shy person. I didn’t know why I felt that way.
“Anyway, what school do you go to?”
“I just finished high school—I went to Sacred Heart College in Lucena.”
“That’s far from here. Do you have relatives there?”
“No, I stayed in a boarding house. I’m quite independent and can take care of myself.”
“You look so young…”
“Not really, I’m sixteen—I’ll be seventeen this year. And I’m going to college in June. Away from home. At University of the Philippines in Los Baños.”
“That doesn’t necessarily make you an old woman.”
“But I’m not like the other sixteen-year-olds you may have met before.”
“How?”
“I can take care of myself.”
He smiled but said nothing. I couldn’t tell if I impressed him or if he didn’t understand what I said. I wanted to say more but was unable to find words that would have explained further what I meant.
He was silent for a while before he spoke again. “How far is the public market from here?”
“Not too far, about a kilometer.”
“Do they sell cooked food there—do they have places where one can sit down to eat?”
“Yes, lots of them.”
“Can you come with me?”
“To eat? John won’t like it if he finds out you went somewhere to eat. They’re probably preparing something special for lunch.”
“Come on. Be a friend. This is my only chance to go and eat in a public market.”
“Why do you think so?”
“Because my friends always steer me away from places they think I shouldn’t see.”
I knew I was betraying a cousin, my favorite cousin at that, but there was something in his request that thrilled me. My father had always forbidden me to eat in the public market. I had gone there to eat with my friends a few times before, all without my father’s knowledge. I didn’t understand all the warning about sanitation—didn’t cooking kill any germs that may still be in the food?
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll take you there.”
“Go ask your mom for permission.”
“I don’t have to—we’re not going far. But I’ll have to tell our help where I’m going in case she asks.”
“Don’t you feel scared going with a stranger?”
“You’re not a stranger. Besides, you’ll never get off this island alive if something happens to me.”-
He laughed loud. I knew he was beginning to understand right then that I was not the typical sixteen-year-old he assumed I was.
We walked to the public market. The sun was hot but I didn’t mind. I wanted people to see me walking and wonder who the man with me was. I didn’t see anyone I knew but they could have been peeking from their windows, hiding from my sight.
He looked around the market, curious about everything. Vendors were cajoling us to come to their place—each claimed to have the best food in the market. I wanted very much to have known the area better so I could steer him to the right place. It maddened me that I didn’t.
“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t eat too much,” I told him when he started looking at the food on display.
“Why’s that?”
“Because…”
“Huh?”
“John will find out I went with you here and he’ll get mad. When we get back I want you to eat a lot of whatever they serve you.”
“Do you always tell people what to do?”
“No, but I know it will be a problem for me if you don’t eat lunch in my cousin’s house. You don’t want me to get in trouble, do you?”
He patted me on the shoulder and said, “I promise you won’t.”
So we each had an ukoy although I could tell that he wanted very much to try the kare-kare that looked so tempting. I felt sorry that I was always sensible—why couldn’t I have been more adventurous and off-beat like he was? All my life I had deferred to my elders, tried hard to please them. They praised me for being mature and responsible for my age. They didn’t know that I’d rather do things because they’re what I want to do, not because they’re what they expect from me.
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☺cherry☻
Senior Member
☺☺I lOvE mY sElF..!☻☻
Posts: 2,564
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Post by ☺cherry☻ on Apr 27, 2008 19:17:24 GMT 8
SUNDAY, April 7, 2002
TODAY was a very busy day for everyone. John was having a party in his house in honor of Tim and my family was helping prepare the food. I was given the task of cutting the vegetables to pieces of the right size. There was so much to cut I was afraid it would take me the whole day.
I wanted to wear the dress my mother had given me for my graduation. It had been pressed and ready for me to put on. It was a simple but elegant off-white, sleeveless dress. My friends had gushed about how I looked in that dress. They said I looked like I was at least twenty years old.
I finished I disagreeigned chore as fast as I could because I needed to go to the beauty parlor to have my hair done. I wanted so much to look nice for that evening. It felt like graduation day and a lot more.
I went early to Tim’s party—I wanted to have a quiet talk with him before everybody else arrived. I know people will say I’m being irrational but I like him very much. I like him because he is so modest—he never tells anyone he is from America. He isn’t like the boys in school who are too immature for my taste. I know he is right for me even though I have only known him for a few days. People don’t understand that a girl just knows.
We got to chat for a long time before the guests arrived. He told me about life in the U.S.—he said Filipinos who are used to getting pampered would have a hard time adjusting to life there.
“After working all day at the office, we still have to cook and clean up when we get home,” was one of the things he said.
“I’m glad I can take care of myself… I won’t have a hard time if I ever go there.”
He smiled with a smile that seemed to say, You may think so but there’s more to adjusting to a new life than that. Maybe he wasn’t convinced that I was an independent woman who can live alone.
I felt bold and asked him directly, “Do you have a girl friend?”
“No.”
“Why not? Can’t you find anyone you like?” I hoped he didn’t notice the lilt in my voice that was there because his answer had pleased me.
“I’m sure there are lots of nice women around, it’s just that I have been busy the last few years trying to get my career going. You try harder when you’re in a new country.”
“Would you prefer a Filipina or an American girl friend?” I wanted more details.
“I really don’t know,” he said. “But I know I want someone like you—pretty, happy, and not afraid to speak out. Too bad you’re too young.”
He was probably teasing me but I knew for certain I wasn’t too young.
“I’m not too young,” was all I could say, however. I wanted to tell him about John and Jacqueline Kennedy, how she was much younger than he was, but couldn’t do it. I didn’t understand why I could never say all I wanted to say when he was around. I let it go at that.
The food at the party was good and everyone was pleased. I felt proud when I told Tim I helped in its preparation. I haven’t done much cooking but I feel confident I can do a good job if I have to—I had watched my mother lots of times and remember most of the recipes.
I was thrilled when Tim asked me for the first dance. He said he didn’t care too much for dancing and would do it only with someone like me. I thought it probably wasn’t true so I asked why. He said, “Because I’m not a very good dancer and I know you won’t complain.” At least, he knows I’m not the complaining type.
The night would have been perfect if that Christina hadn’t showed up. She always comes late for anything and makes a grand entrance so she can be noticed by everyone. She tells everyone she is twenty-six but I think she’s really twenty-eight. I don’t like her because she thinks she is so beautiful that men find her irresistible. I know she uses too much makeup and spends too much money on clothes. She is lucky her father is rich.
She began to monopolize Tim with her conversation. She couldn’t tell that Tim was simply being polite to her. I hardly think he will fall for her because she is too old for him. Anyway, she ruined the evening for me. I don’t just dislike her, I really hate her.
TUESDAY, April 9, 2002
I’VE hardly seen Tim the last two days—John has been showing him around the island and I have been busy helping my mother arrange to ship live cattle to Manila. That was my family’s business, making sure cattle from the ranchers in Masbate get to their buyers in Manila in good shape. I saw Tim only in the evenings when everybody got home but never got to talk to him. I know it’s crazy but I miss him so much.
WEDNESDAY, April 10, 2002
WHEN my mother and I got home this evening, I found a package waiting for me. It was from Tim. I took the package to my room and found a book of poems and his sunglasses inside. With them was a note from him:
Dear Minda,
I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to see you today. I was hoping I could speak with you before I went away but they told me you wouldn’t be home till later. I’m leaving early this evening on the M/V Maria Carmela to go to Lucena and on to Manila. I wasn’t planning on leaving until Saturday but your friend Christina begged me to escort her to Manila. She said the trip always terrified her and I couldn’t refuse.
You have been my best friend on this island and I’ll never forget you. I’m giving you my sunglasses and this book of poems by Louise Glück that I have been reading during this trip. I hope you’ll like them, but more than that I hope they will remind you of a friend. You have been very nice to me and I wish to thank you for all the nice times I’ve spent with you.
I wish you all the success you deserve as you go on to college. I’m sure you’ll make your parents proud.
Your friend,
Tim
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☺cherry☻
Senior Member
☺☺I lOvE mY sElF..!☻☻
Posts: 2,564
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Post by ☺cherry☻ on Apr 27, 2008 19:17:54 GMT 8
He was wrong. Christina wasn’t my friend. She was a shameless witch who would do all kinds of tricks to get men to like her. I couldn’t help but cry as I ran to the street to catch a tricycle to the pier.
The ferry had already left when I got there. The ship was still visible and I could see its lights in the distance as it sailed away. I couldn’t understand why this was happening to me. Tomorrow, I would have been home the whole day because my mother had finished her work for the week. And I already knew how to tell Tim about John and Jacqueline Kennedy without making it look too obvious that we could be a pair. I also wanted to give him a picture of me when I graduated from high school and tell him to remember to write me in Los Baños. He won’t even know how to get in touch with me after all this. I only needed one more day and that Christina had to ruin everything.
THURSDAY, April 11, 2002
I WOKE up late because I hardly slept last night. Perhaps, Tim will find a way to write me. Maybe John can tell him how to get in touch with me. But inside me is a terrible feeling that he will never write and that I will never see him again.
I don’t want to mope and feel sorry for myself but I really feel like crying again. Nevertheless, I’ll try to make this day a normal day for myself and not let anyone know. They’ll never understand.
I will read the book he gave me—maybe, there’s a message in the poems he wants me to read. I will wear his sunglasses when I go out later. But first, I will have a good breakfast and listen to the news on the radio. I need to know what’s going on out there for I haven’t been outside my own little world for almost a week. Ω
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yshel
Full Member
wahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!
Posts: 565
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Post by yshel on Jul 1, 2008 17:58:00 GMT 8
..wahhhhhhhhhhhh
...naduling na bata kuh sa mga nbasa kuh
..sige lang magkwento pa kau
..saka na ku magkukwento ng akin kapag nakaya kuh
..hahahaha
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nicky
Full Member
Posts: 316
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Post by nicky on Jul 3, 2008 16:27:12 GMT 8
ok my turn hehehe..............
this was happened noong nasa elementarya pa ako at hindi ko karanasan ito sa klasmet ko ito talaga nangyari...........
noong kasalukuyan pa kaming nag-aaral ng leksyon this classmate of mine asking me to go with her dahil nga na-wewe na siya so sinamahan ko siya pero hindi kami pumunta dun sa Cr kasi walang tubig at ilaw madilim talaga..........
so doon nalang kami si Likod ng H.E.building. siya lang yung nag wewe kasi hindi naman ako iihi.hinintay ko lang siyang matapos. nung natapos na siya bigla na lang siyang sumigaw, akala ko na tuklaw ng ahas hindi pala, may nakita daw siyang duwende sa likod ko nakatingin sa kanya habang nag wewe siya.........
so then tumakbo na ako kasi tumakbo siya eh taos takot na takot na din ako. so pagdating namin dun sa loob ng klasrom namutla yung klasmet ko tinatanong siya ng teacher namin sabi ko, "eh Maam may nakita daw siyang duwende dun sa likod ng H.E. Building".......dun na nagsimulang maglabasan yung kwento tungkol sa skul namin.......eh ayaw ko sanang maniwala sa kanya akala ko ginu-gudtym lang akokasi wala din naman akong nakita pero namumutla siya eh kaya naniwala nalang ako. hindi na din tinuloy ng teacher namin yung leksyon dahil nagkwento nalang siya ng nag kwento hanggang maglabasan na.............
ito namang isang to it was happened nung granduating na ako ng elementary........
yung nanay ko may sariling Boutiqe shop nagtatahi siya ng mga gowns, at yung tintuluyan niyang bahay mayroon palang history iyon na hindi niya alam kong ano, napaka creepy talaga........nung pumunta ako sa nirentahang bahay ng nanay ko dahil dun din nakatira yung dalawang kapatid ko kasi sa siyudad sila nag-aaral eh.......tapos yung nga pumunta ako dun dahil wala kaming pasok 5 days.........yung bahay kahit saan mong anggulo tingnan kaiba talaga yung aura niya kahit marami pang tao sa loob parang hunted house talaga kung tingan.........
nag o-overtime nanay ko kasi gumagawa siya ng damit pangkasal tapos ako naman nakahiga lang sa sofa nanonood ng TV......sinisita ako palagi ng nanay ko na matulog na kasi malalim na yung gabi eh ayaw ko pang matulog kasi gusto ko pang manood.pinagalitan ako ng nanay ko so nagkunwa akong natutulog na so pinatay na niya yung TV kasi naubusan siya ng sinulid. so lumabas siya ng bahay para bumuli. ako naman laking gulat ko kasi nag start yung TV kahit hindi ko binuksan, so akala ko sira lang siguro kaya nanood nalang ako......
pagdating ng nanay ko sa bahay sinabi ko sa kanya na siya ba yung na bukas ng TV, sabi niya hindi daw so sinabi ko na lang sa sarili ko na baka sira talaga yung TV...so hindi ko yun pinansin hanggang sa umuwi na ako sa aming baranggay dahi pasukan na kasi tapos na ang 5 days na walang pasok.......
then one day, umuwi yung nanay ko at dalawa kong kapatid. sabi ko "aba himala naka uwi kayong tatlo hehehe"......inungkat ng nanay ko nung nagyari na nag start yung TV mag isa. sinabihan pala sila nung borders din nung bahay na kasama nila nakatira dun na hunted pala yung bahay. marami daw nagpakamatay dun, at morge daw yun noon bago ginawang bahay. takot na takot talaga ako sa mga nalaman ko.
sinabi din ng kapatid ko sa akin. one day inutusan siya ng nanay namin na bumili ng isda sa palingki at lutuin na kasi tanghalian na nun. so bumili naman yung kapatid ko. kasalukuyang nag luluto siya, umulan ng malakas eh nagtataka siya bakit ang lakas ng hangin sa loob ng bahay eh hindi naman pumapasok yung hangin kasi para siyang kweba eh, walang bintana madilim talaga siya kahit umaga. so yun nga takot na takot na siya kasi siya lang mag isa dun sa bahay, then yung kurtina sa kwarto namin parang kinakawayan daw siya eh wala ngang hangin na pumasok sa loob. takot na takot siya iniwan niya yung niluluto niya at nagtatakbo palabas kahit malakas ang ulan.
yung isang kapatid ko naman, nong hatinggabi na daw nagising siya sa ingay kasi daw may naririnig siyang naglalakad na na parang naghihila ng kadena tapos parang naghuhugas ng plato at nagluluto eh wala namang tao kasi gabi na, so hindi nalang niya yun pinasin. hindi rin kasi nila alam na hunted yung bahay.
tapos marami pang kababalaghan ang nangyayarin sa bahay na yun. yung iba daw hinihipan yung tenga habang nanonood ng TV, nanayo daw talaga balahibo nila nung nangyari yun....... nung nalaman nga namin yun naghanap na ibang matutuluyan ang nanay ko at iniwan na yung bahay na hunted. ngayon hindi na namin alam kong anu na nangyari sa bahay......
hehehe ayan na guys ang aking story hindi man siya kakatakot pero ang mahalaga naka pag share ako heheh.........
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arlyn
New Member
Posts: 14
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Post by arlyn on Aug 20, 2008 11:46:20 GMT 8
Ito akin malala... Simple lang naman na gusto kong ishare
Nangyari ito ng first highschool ako Bagong lipat lang ako sa skul na pinapasukan ko magpahanggang ngayon. Hindi ako naniniwala sa mga ganyang hindi nageexist na creature but when this thing happen on me...naguluhan ako, sobra.
First class namin ng mapalingon ako sa gawing kanan ko. Dun kasi nakaupo yung cute na kaklase kong lalaki. Ang sarap-sarap niyang tingnan kaya palingon-lingon talaga ako. But when I turned my head for the fiftieth time, halos manlaki ang ulo ko sa nakita ko. Isang babeng naka-damit pangkasal ang nakita ko na nakatayo sa likod niya at may hawak na knife. Grabe, tindigan ang balahibo ko sa batok sa sobrang gulat. Lalo na at may katabi siyang isang sundalong hapon na hinihikayat ang bride na saksakin ang klasm8 ko. And the woman was crying. Akala ko nananaginip lang ako but when I turned my head to my seat mates, nanlalaki din ang mga mata niya at dun ko nalaman na may third eye siya. My god, tindigan ang mga balahibo ko...
Sa ngayon wala na akong nakikita pero nararamdaman, oo. Lagi.
Bitin ang kwento ko kasi tinatamad na akong magsulat.
Sa susunod na lang. Geh, ingat sa lahat
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marialuz143
Senior Member
hello gUyszz....this is teNsai Na kAwAii na si mehh....da adorable hiMe heRe....
Posts: 1,387
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Post by marialuz143 on Oct 24, 2008 22:42:15 GMT 8
ayaw ko talaga ng horror...
di ko carry...
takot ako...
help!!!!!!!
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Post by adiktus on Oct 31, 2008 1:35:53 GMT 8
katakot hah
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