I wish I was them. I wish I had the same fortune, the same luxury, and the same wealth as them. If only I was as blessed as they were, maybe there was no need for me to suffer emotionally and financially anymore. If only I was rich like them, maybe I did not have to write essays for others, answer quizzes for others, and do assignments for others only to earn money for my bills and dues. But it was hard to be them. I could not be them.
They are elites. The rarest of gems. The untouchables. The most fortunate and the most blessed students along with the rest of the class. They need not to be smart nor to be lucky in order to book themselves a scholarship. They even don’t need to take a scholarship! With just a few bucks, their slot in Star Section is secured. They did not have to work hard for it, just like I did. While watching everyone as they opened their parcels, I forced my eyes to be strong and not shed a tear. But it was difficWhen I entered to the bathroom, the first thing I did was to get my outdated and ‘almost broken but at least still functioning’ 3310 keypad phone between my folded apple green towel and went to my music gallery. I did not have much music on the list. In fact, I was never really into music. I was never a fan of Pop, or Ballad, Or Rhythm and Blues, or even Country Songs which Ed Sheeran and Taylor Swift were dominating. I did not know any music be it from late 1800’s or even up to date, too. There are only four music on my list, and ironically speaking, they were not even close to that stage. Technically, they were lullabies. My four most treasured lullabies I used to hear from my Mom, which never would have ever grown old to me. Even up until now when I was 18 years old, I still listened to them.Before I stripped down my clothes and turned the shower, I played the most sentimental lullaby on my phone. As it began to echo in the closed doo
We halted outside the caution tape surrounding the transit van where the crime scene happened. Three patrol cars, including the one Philip’s Dad used last night, was parked on the left part of the chapel beside the flagpole. As the investigation team began their job, we saw the vice-principal walking from the pavement towards the vehicle where the teachers and other staff were standing; discussing about the traumatizing death of the owner of HCU and her chauffeur.The Vice Principal Mr. Morales was an invisible man. He rarely showed up. He would only go to school when the principal had meetings or errands to attend to, or when she’s absent and missing in action. Since last Thursday when the principal died, today was his first time heaving into view to manifest himself. He was an old man, dark in complexion, and had always been a grumpy person. We could see his crumpled forehead far from our spot, and his croaky voice was audible and easy to hear becaus
“Open it!” Janvic shouted while leaning on the corner of the room, squeezing himself between the bookshelf and the square table. “That must be Mrs. Tejada,” he added as he tried to access the only opened window facing the outside.Nicole was the nearest to the door, so she took the job of twisting the knob. Slowly and while looking at us, she swung the classroom door open. “Oh, hey! It’s you!” Nicole greeted with a vibrant smile. She swept her slightly coiled hair onto her left shoulder, and moved aside to give way to whoever it was who’s about to enter.“Look, it’s Rabiya!” Yuri snapped. She crossed through the empty seats of the last row to meet the girl wearing a black dress on the aisle at the rearmost of the room. She hugged her, and when Samantha noticed, she rushed her way to give one to Rabiya, too.“How did the interrogation go?” Saman
YURI(25 hours in lockdown)It just happened that an hour after lunch, we unexpectedly gathered at the center of the room—on the seats that were arranged in a big circle—and talked about random things to keep our bored asses busy. It had been almost a day since we were locked in here, and the fact that there had been no updates from the outside world made us worry about what were the things waiting for us the moment we would step outside. There was just too much topics to talk about, that even us ourselves found it confusing where to start and what to talk first. It was nothing much than a panel discussion, but something less of a debate. Exchanging ideas and beliefs, and even speculations and conspiracy theories about things that just made and made no sense.We talked about various of things. From school politics to school rules and regulations, from personal experiences to personal problems, from
In Rabiya’s head, something was still processing. She zipped her lips and narrowed her eyes. One second. Two seconds. Three. Four... And on the fifth, she gave up the staring contest. She lost. She turned back to the direction of the whiteboard, and left the guy in black tank top wasted behind her. She looked on both sides, and gave Geodie and me a disapproving face. “Apologies. I don’t know what you mean,” she replied, and never dared to gaze at him again.“Abhorrent. You know what I mean. You are just afraid to be criticised; afraid to be called out for believing on things you shouldn’t believe.” Travis stepped back. He retrieved his hands from anchoring them on the backrest of Rabiya’s chair, and just walked towards the direction of the door. “What is it in the lower sections that mentioning them is a sin to us? Ask yourselves.” He bent down, fitting his face on the glass part of the wooden doo
“After Satan had dragged us into a pitfall of filthy shits, you are still in the mood for some play time?” Philip said, shrugging his shoulders.“Yes.” Samantha responded, chin up, eyes were two balls of fire catapulting a heavy and intense stare to the guy who just questioned her will. “What? Is it not allowed now to take a break from all the curses and misfortunes we are currently going through?” She was confident she’s going to win the argument, even if it didn’t end up that way because Philip suddenly realized he had no power to overrule the great and the mighty Samantha.“Of... Of course its allowed. Okay, ‘kay. Whatever your saying. But please spare me from that stupid game. I don’t want to join in.”“No one’s not joining. Do you hear me?” Samantha flicked her eyebrows shaped like an inverted check mark to the ceiling. She f
Okay. Boring. The first round of the game Spin the Bottle was utterly boring.With a blank face, Cylvia retrieved the bottle from the floor and tossed it high in the air. When it landed back between her hands, she presented it to Samantha and asked, “I believe its my turn to spin now?” she’d asked. She gave the empty container a good shake while waiting for Samantha’s answer.“Almost but not quite.” Samantha stretched her body across the circle and snatched the container from Cylvia. As she recovered her body back, she fixed the folds and creases of her night gown (It’s true, it’s only a few hours past lunch but she was already on her slumber outfit), and said, “That’s somewhat similar to how it actually works, yes! But the one who was asked to spill a truth or do a dare should be the one who would spin the bottle next. So technically, it’s Jermaine’s turn.”
CHUCKThat was close. Very, very close. However, we were deeply sorry for not being able to hear what was Geodie’s supposedly answer for that question of truth. Was there any chance for her to answer that question? At this time, perhaps no. Maybe sometime, if anyone would pull the gut and ask her the same question again, then perhaps yes.But now that Mrs. Tejada entered the room without knocking at least once on the door, which was very rude and impolite of her by the way, chances of continuing and furthering the game slimmed in an instant. Why was she here anyways? To tell us that we’ll extend our stay for another day? Or to announce to us that another murder mystery had been terribly and horrifically committed again?Mrs. Tejada clicked the lock of the door knob as she slowly pushed the door close. She walked with no sound of footsteps echoing on the floor at all, and proceeded to the front wearing the same se