THE GREAT DIVIDE

 In the break of dawn of August 1st is the onset of a long and magical journey I never knew would change my life.  I got up from my queen-sized bed, 5 A.M., with my head still whirling from sleep. I was so thrilled because it was the first day of my sophomore year in college as a psychology student. I stopped at my bedroom mirror to do a quick fix before going downstairs for breakfast that my mother had prepared beforehand.  Mom never disappoints when serving breakfast. Her food’s always consistent and never innocent of flavor.  “Thank you, mom. They look delicious,” I said in delight.  I noticed something unusual in mom’s face today. She looks like she’s under the weather with the blowing of her nose and pale skin so I suggested her to take a day off.  

He looks dashing in his tight fit uniform. I couldn't stop peering at his strong arms while giving him a mild tour inside the house with me secretly barring him out of the utter mess.   Engaged in my exposition, Liam suddenly asked a query about the whereabouts of Dad in which I immediately parried.   "So, why musical arts?" I asked.   "I love music ever since. I feel like a different person when playing. I love to see people dance and relate to songs that I write," he replied enthusiastically.   I'm envious of Liam's intrinsic passion for music since I'm still at the phase of exploring myself, of what I want to achieve in life. I vividly remember my Grade 10 essay that basically asks us of what do we want to be ten years from now. I penned that I just want to have roof abov

Liam, who's a son of a proverbial chef, turned 22 in this very day where popular personalities, camera crews, and handful of guards in black suits skirt the compounds perimeter. My focus zoomed in in Liam's sizzling body.  "Why do I feel like we're in a different world?" said Blake. "The king of the sea wants to see you Serena sitting on his throne," teased Ashton.  "Better get myself drunk enough to be able to do a catwalk than loaf around in front of the upper-crust crowd," I said.  I needed my name to be plucked up in the lottery. It has to! I need to fight for this aimless venture that I'm about to embark. Liam is the one that I liked and I don't want him to go.  So, I gulped a glass of champagne that probably cost an arm and a leg. An

SUNDAY MORNING.                                     I didn’t get any sleep at all. Not even forty winks. I just gloomily stared at the drawn draperies with the ray of sunlight. Mom has been visiting me from time to time, rapping at my door, asking me to let her come in. I’m skipping meals and ignoring messages from Liam and my best friends. Today was supposed to be my whole week’s convalescence. I tried to fight the urge to stay in my room all day. But the chains are indestructible and my room won’t let me leave, like asking for a company. In twilight, I gathered an infinitesimal bandwidth to stand up and fixed my flyaway hair. Normally, I would always wash my face up with soap but water isn’t

We materialized at the police station, where Jake’s being held off, half an hour later after we absorbed the affair. The foreground was seething with variegated news broadcasting station. We tried to keep our faces off the radar by having our hood above our heads. Liam tightened his grip on my hands as we passed by the curious media. He was uptight and furious at the same time. I can hear the wind moaning on our east, mixed with the pandemonium of crews and journalists who’s impatiently waiting for Jake to come out the station. I heard that he was being bailed out by Aries, while the remaining arrested were still incarcerated and to be judged by the Supreme Court later next week. Then, the flicking and flashes of cameras started to play a strobing spectacle in the middle of the moonless night. Jake was rushing, mortified of the possibility of tarnishing his dad’