Night - Imagine Nation (Literary Folio) 2014

Imagine

Nation 2014

F

J

o r

o h n

âœŚ

The story does not end with the painful thud of your fall.

Our vulnerability broke, our hearts cried, knowing the morning will be different without you.

But in the blackest night, and even at death we cannot forget nor speak of abandonment and loss.

There will only be a brief pause in the raging night.

For our dream is an eternal flame that lights countless torches in the throbbing hearts of millions.

It will continually endure the dark and windy storm and prevail over the changing seasons of human life And the visible outline of the brave vision seen across the dark sea of history that has urged you, will urge us on!

E d wa r d O l i v e r

de

la Fuente 1953 - 1984

✦ At the height of the Marcos Regime in 1983, John Herbert dela

Fuente, an alumnus of our University was found dead at the age of 26, reportedly executed for his activism and vocal support for the fight against the tyranny of a dictator.

His brother, Edward wrote this poem to commemorate his sacrifice, swearing to live on and continue his fallen brother’s plight for the freedom of our country. A year later, he followed his brother’s footsteps.

He was abducted by government soldiers, tortured, and killed while stationed at a remote community in Aklan.

But as his poem goes, “there will only be a brief pause in the raging night.” The multitudes of oppressed Filpinos gradually found their footing, gathering strength, increasing in numbers, readying themselves for the storm looming over the horizon.

Marcos would eventually be forced to leave the Philippines in 1986, a result of the very first unified and unparalleled People Power movement, two years after the death of the dela Fuente brothers, proving that those who fought for what they believed in and and those who paid with their life, did not die in vain.

It’s always darkest before dawn.

Republished from Centralite 1985

Contents POETRY 2 The Tide of Nyx Nneka Solis 3 Andromeda Skyline Paul Mackey Marfil Homesick Arridi 4 Agitator GJP Parasites Stockade 5 Omega Blessed Bea Plondaya 7 Gabi ng Kamatayan Joniemar Calderon 8 The Moon is a Way to our Lost Heaven Home Allana Delgado

10 Skin Anglerfish

11 Yumenigma Thirdy Catharsis Paul Mackey Marfil 12 Sleeping Beauty Katrina Mabanes Amongst Shadows Vic Morena 13 A Lonesome Grave Ebenezer

The Longest Night

1976 – 1983

The Central Echo was among the school publications shutdown during Martial Law, the studentry being among the most vocal against the Marcos dictatorship.

For nearly a decade the voice of the Centralian student body was stifled.

But you can never truly restrain the masses calling for freedom. Republished in this issue are a few pieces of prose and poetry from this time of oppression. Calling for independence, denouncing the regime, proving that you can try and suppress the voices, but ideas will still travel in echoes.

This literary folio is for one of the longest nights in our country’s history, to those who made it to dawn, to the martyrs who fell in the darkness. The night is over, today we bask in the light of freedom.

14 Ang Mutya Rhick Lars Albay

15 Pretty Allie Deathseeker The Once Forgotten Irish Paoline Jurinario 17 Fireworks in Reverse Io dela Cruz Sa Mapait Mo Nga Pagkadula Mikie Garcia 18 Ala-ala Cris Barredo This Night Kristina Victoriano

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PROLOGUE

You’ve once shared that the sincerity of a person’s laugh is easily revealed in his eyes. The narrower one’s eyes close while laughing, the more at ease they are with the people around them. Someone laughing with their eyes wide open may not be truly expressing how they feel.

This, you say, is because of man’s innate fear of the dark, traced way back to the time when our forbearers dwelled in caves, huddling around a single fire, fearing the unknown that lay beyond the safety of their caverns. Back then, closing one’s eyes meant surrendering yourself to the uncertainty of darkness, with all of its dangers and pitfalls. Only as they gathered around the warmth of a pyre did our ancestors, feeling safe with the circle of brothers and sisters around them, start to close their eyes and give in to night’s call for sleep.

We may have outgrown our forbearers, moved out of caves, harnessed electricity, but still before falling asleep, we search our walls for shape shifting figures. Walking home after dark, we nervously count the number of shadows cast on the ground, looking over our shoulders every once in a while to make sure that there’s no one else there but us.

Eyes search dark alleys and unlit streets, half-expecting the worst to emerge from the crevices and corners of the pitch black night.

Photo by

C h a l ce d o n S a ñ o r

The night shrouds all things with the same shadowy mantle, obscuring our sight, replacing the vivid colors we see by day with shades of black. We fear what we can’t see, we fear the unknown that hides in the folds of the night, and we fear uncertainty. But as we laugh, we close our eyes as a sign of trust in the people around us. Good friends and family, we huddle around each other’s warmth, knowing that the night can’t harm us.

Facing our fears head on, our laughter ringing in the darkness.

R h i c k L a r s A l b ay imagine nation

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22 Dead Stars Anglerfish Midnight Swim Rhick Lars Albay Dilim at Dagat Allana Delgado 23 Flashing Lights Rebel rebel Nocturnal Bliss Joniemar Calderon 24 Pagbangon Mikie Garcia DH Nneka Solis 25 Passus et Sepultus Ram Paulo Anayan 26 Akin ang Gabi Vince Palcullo Firewalkers Ash Wednesday

ESSAY 28 Confronting Destiny Geony Provido 31 Nyctophobia Jeziel Vargas 32 Procrastination Nation Paul Mackey Marfil SHORT STORIES 36 Pleiades upon the Stones Allana Delgado

41 Childhood Promises Jeziel Vargas

42 Tuwing Alas-Onse Irish Paoline Jurinario 47 Ang Pangatlong Susi Mikie Garcia 51 Nanay’s Pledge Nneka Solis 54 Waking Nightmare Ron Adrian Dionaldo 58 Swirling Lumina Bryan Fran 60 The Dreamscape Paul Mackey Marfil

63 Twitterati

Poetry

The Tide Nyx

of

Nneka Solis

Ebony horses charge through the sky; With them I emerge, almighty and high.

Hemera’s defeat I do pursue; Lo, she retreats – my triumph anew.

The kingdom she lost I now foray; I claim her throne – my prize, my prey.

“Victory!” I cry, as Day turns Night – The last ray of light, I viciously smite.

In the world down below, I see No sign of man, on land and on sea.

In their homes they stay, rested and asleep Whilst Hypnos’ spell did flow and seep.

My task is done, yet I still stand guard For the return of my Foe, and our unending war.

I l l u s t r at i o n by

Julian Querubin

Homesick Arridi

Andromeda Skyline Paul Mackey Marfil

I sat beneath the Andromeda Skyline My eyes gazing upon an ocean of stars Oh how I wish that I could drown myself In that ocean of stars To withdraw myself from their presence To wash the serpent’s venom off my skin Oh how I wish that I could ride On the silver wings of angels And then fly across the twilight seas But take me higher, above cotton clouds And then douse me in gasoline So that the nova’s fire Might burn away my mortal skin And leave behind a soul ablaze Glowing alongside clusters of stars For I was once a child Who longed to touch the galaxies But the galaxies did not permit me And I was left beneath the starlit sky Lost beneath the Andromeda Skyline

The hour has struck to mark the day I shall not see this morn For metal birds do fly the sky To take me to new glories high Skyscrapers called and wooed me so I cannot find my way For visions blurred in foreign view To see myself in places new The hills beckoned and reached for me I thought I’d like their peace But promises were made of glass And made me dream of what was All my hopes I now regret I am a fickle mind As night falls I seek the light As day comes I yearn the night The numbered hours dictate my life I count them everyday And hope the last will end this song And take me home where I belong

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P a r a s i t e s✦ Stockade

A g i t a t o r✦ GJP

He ascends the rostrum,

immediately scoring point

after point With bloodthirsty eloquence, Amidst the waving placards

that shake With the thunder of his mighty voice, Penetrating the nerves that long to seek justice, Corrupting the hearts that

seek the corrupt;

Even in the darkness nooks of prison, Life surges.

What with mice and bedbugs, Ants and cockroaches This their world And not man’s It’s life for those who Feast on man.

There is only one way, and he

knows the way – He would preach with high-sounding

authority, shedding tears, And with one Messianic gesture

commencing the charge.

Thus under his powerful spell The crowd storms the tense

squad clad in armor.

And when eventually

students and policemen

were dying in the dark Littered streets...

He’s already gone, far into

the safety of the alleyway.

✦ Republished from Centralite 1985 4

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Omega

B l e s s e d B e a P l o n d aya Sky crashing down Intensifying roars quaking the earth Collapsing cities and streets Then begging cries were heard no more Lungs grasping for air Lost in treacherous black waters Drowning in failures and woes Then flailing hands were seen no more Tied body combusting Ashes reddening with all that were Of charred skin and flesh Then the smell of smoke was no more Knocking into Hades’ door All our nightmares coming true Hovering dark shapes Then a beating heart was felt no more I l l u s t r at i o n

Unending tunnels of sin Lust, pride, sloth, gluttony Greed, envy, and anger Then redemption was no more

by

Michael Angelo Fandagani

Binding darkness Enveloping all hopes and dreams Realm of pain, grief and numbness Then all that’s left was no more

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Gabi

ng

K a m ataya n Joniemar Calderon

Mata’y pipikit, didilat, sisilip-silip Panaginip ang sasalubong sa pag-idlip Ngunit, balintataw ay babaling, hahabol Sa liwanag ng kandilang bahagya’t pulpol.

Diwa’y lilipad-lipad sa payapang ulap Sa buwan lalagi’t sa bituin yayakap Ngunit, nanakawin lang ng bakal na kamay Ang kakaunting pag-asa niyang mabuhay.

Sabay sa awitin ng kuliglig ng takot Kubling patalim ay ninais din maabot ‘Pagkat dugo ng halimaw lang ang kikitil Ng gabing dinapuan ng sigwa’t hilahil.

Puso’y ulit susugat sa kanyang pagluha Dulot ng aninong itim ang kaluluwa Sa kanlungan ng ama’y ulit madadatnan Paulit-ulit na gabi ng kamatayan.

Photo

by

C h a l ce d o n S a ñ o r

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The Moon is a W ay t o o u r L o s t H e av e n home

Allana Delgado Legend says: Man once lived, in sky paradise Endless herds for daily meat, they wove bird plumage and feathers for clothes.

Homes upon clouds, all eternal light above them, and below: Black glass ground dusted with dense stars, stretching forever in all horizons.

Hunter, sick of paradise, tired of meat, of feather cloaks, Shot a passing eagle with his bow – arrow straight through the heart, then hit the ground with a gun-shot sound, leaving a perfect circle hole.

They peered below, saw the Ocean, fertile ground, Islands teeming with gold, pearls, mermaids, fishes, all exquisite.

“Let us leave Heaven, and make that place our own.”

All mankind went down with a feather rope, Snapping broken once the last girl reached earth.

They looked up the night sky, saw Heaven’s light through the hole they called Moon, The starlit ground where their feet have trod, now the Sky they look upon.

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I l l u s t r at i o n

by

V e r n a R o z T a pe r l a

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I l l u s t r at i o n by

A l l e n G r a ce T a b i

Skin

Anglerfish I trace constellations on your skin Cassiopeia near your shoulders, Andromeda on your arms Virgo running down the back of your neck My touch following orbits, circling invisible stars Treading through gravity, soft curves and boundless space Lost satellites shifting around your skin Deep breaths, feel nebulae pulsing, throbbing galaxies Comets flying past, Rigel blinking, Polaris leading north Fingers mapping out the edges of the universe 10

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Yumenigma Thirdy

In this kaleidoscope world of colors, Where shades of red adorn paper flowers, I wander aimlessly along a purple path; Dark swirling ink appears with my touch; In this myriad of textures, I can feel the softness of green pastures; Pavements are both smooth and rough; Callous bumps protrude from a wall above; In this realm of light and shadows, I am suddenly filled with sorrow, But laughter I can also hear from afar, Mocking me ruthlessly and leaving a scar;

Catharsis Paul Mackey Marfil

In this battlefield of sounds, Voices boom and shake the ground; Tongues wail like there’s no tomorrow; My ears ache from all the horror;

I want to taste the sweetness of the apples Savor the flavor and then fall asleep Then dream a dream that would comfort me And bring me back up on my feet

In this little niche of illusionary peace, I snuggle my head between my knees, Trying to regain my consciousness, Trying to escape from the hollowness,

But dreams, they die, murdered by the menace That wakes me up every gloomy night And no matter how much I’d crawl for solace I struggle still to witness the light

In this enigmatic dream, Muscles twitch and I begin to scream, But I am being engulfed by the unknown; Waking up renders that world no more.

I want you to cover me when the sun arrives Lest I’d be seen by the eyes from across I want you to toss me into the pitch black abyss And then bury me within the rubbles of my thoughts I want you to scourge me, inflict me with pain Bombard me with words which I can’t even recall And I shall dance freely under the pouring rain For still, I vow, to resist the fall I want to taste the sweetness of the apples To satisfy the hunger of my beastly desire I want to silence the voices of hypocrites For I am the king of my own empire

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S l eep i n g Beauty K at r i n a M a b a n e s

I wish you never woke me Just leave me sleep eternally I desire be back being Sleeping Beauty I beg you, my prince, place a curse on me.

I shouldn’t have indulged in vices Nor in impurities and fame In my dream I was coddled in palaces Love, Faith, and Destiny knew my name I shouldn’t have felt insecurities Nor fear, nor anxieties In my dream all I felt was bliss Just plain euphoria, no pills that tease.

I shouldn’t have sensed jealousy Nor paranoia and senseless envy In my dream we’re more than just a vampire story No more little fairies- just you and me.

I wish you never woke me Leave me sleep eternally I desire be back being Sleeping Beauty I beg you, my prince, place a curse on me.

Now hum me a lullaby Show me another sweet dream Even when a false love cover my starry sky Call me Sleeping Coward, for so I seem.

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Amongst Shadows Vic Morena

Shadows came creeping again, begging to unveil your mask.

The beauty hidden to every eye, faking behind vendetta’s smile.

Awaking before all silhouettes, fragrance flows in your veins.

The wind plays with your long, ebony hair, your magnificent face, your red lips.

Your beauty is beyond description, For you are a goddess indeed.

But why do you keep yourself hidden?

Let the world peak inside.

There is no reason to hide, unfold the tapestry in your face.

Spread your wings, and rise.

But as she gains hope, yet she still ends up, staring at her little mirror, and hiding deep in the shadows.

I l l u s t r at i o n by

Tzar Jewel Balandra

A Lonesome G r av e Ebenezer

An inviting dark path led me to this place The moon’s bright light shining on a grave A rain-worn tomb, seemingly years untouched Yet slivers of light and shadow glided upon its face Cast by a lone lit candle, set alight and left Its scarlet flame dancing to the wind’s soft whispers Its molten wax dripping on what must have been a rose Now withered and black, petals like charred pieces of paper These lifeless buds reminding me of death’s tight grip I pace closer to read the writings, see who rested on that site What I see takes me aback, my knees give way, I falter Kneeling frozen by this grave, my muscles growing numb For the name engraved on the headstone, was none but my own

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AngMutya R h i c k L a r s A l b ay

Ngayong gabi, ang entablado ay sa’yo Palakpak at hiyaw sa pagtawag ng pangalan mo Sinag ng mga ilaw nakatutok sa’yo Lahat ng mga mata‘y bihag ng kagandahan mo Matingkad na kolorete say’ong mga labi Nagtataasang mga takong, makikinis na binti Madla’y nagagalak, ba’t may kaba sa iyong ngiti?

Abot kamay ang koronang minimithi Konfetti’ng makulay lumulutang sa hangin Nalulunod ka sa kanilang mga tingin Napapapikit, balanse mo’y naaalanganin Nahihilo, unti-unti ika’y nawawalan ng paningin Paggising, punit mong damit ay may pulang mantsa Amoy ng alak at sigarilyo, ika’y balisa At hindi mo mahagilap ang iyong korona Nakalukot na pera iniwan sa gilid ng ‘yong kama May palabas uli sa club mamaya, pulang ilaw at usok Bumangon ka na sa kama, alas siete ang iyong pasok Mga mutya makikipagtagisan, mga lalake salapi iaalok At gaya gabi-gabi, isa ka muli sa lalahok Tuloy-tuloy lang ang pagngiti at pagkaway

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Pretty Allie D e a t h s ee k e r

Pretty Allie looked at me Her eyes were bold and blue ‘neath the staircase, There she stood, whispering Whispering she’d never loved me too Hollow and somber, her body was A blood-stained gown she gallantly wore ‘neath the staircase, There she stood, staring Staring through my bedroom door A silver knife, she held in hand My name engraved upon its blade ‘neath the staircase, There she stood, humming Humming an eerie serenade A perfect smile turned upside down Blood-red tears from blood-shot eyes ‘neath the staircase, There she stood, plotting Plotting for my sweet demise Pretty Allie looked at me Her eyes were bold and blue ‘neath the staircase, There she stood, whispering Whispering that I deserve to die too

T h e O n ce Forgotten Irish Paoline Jurinario

That blissful evening in full moon While the bells of the chapel rang, The songs of love echoed as the singer sang, And with the stars as the witness above, Happiness filled our hearts as we shared our vows But that evening screamed with abomination As the familiar silhouette joined the crowd of people A loud Bang reverberated across the whole room Leaving a little hole in the chest of my groom And in the floor, where I held you in my arms The blood and the tears mixed in my palms “Sorry, baby” I heard someone say “You made me do this ‘cause you chose her instead of me”

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Art

by

Melanie Garingan

Fireworks Reverse Io

dela

in

Cruz

Radiant sparks circle back in Blink and disappear Like fireworks in reverse

Sa Mapait Mo Nga Pagkadula

The flicker in your eyes is gone No longer the spark That could light me up Flares and rockets in flight Now, just blank stares Seeing right through me Like dull stars Millions of lightyears away

Mikie Garcia

Our hands don’t seek each other In the darkness, anymore When then, we’d always meet halfway Each soft touch magnetic, aglow My warmth, your glimmer, in the air Vivid bursts of light only seen by us two Our sky once ablazed with color Left bathed in black and grey Radiant sparks circle back in Let out one last blinding spark And fade to nothing Like fireworks in the reverse

Sa matam-is mo nga pagyuhom, Ang kalibutan sang tanan nagpundo Sa matam-is mo nga pagyuhom, Ang kalibutan gid naton nagsanto Sa madali nga pag-labay sang tini-on, Ang imo nga kaanyag ang wala nagpaawat Sa madali nga paglabay sang tini-on, Ang imo nga kaanyag ang hindi gid makawat Ugaling sang ikaw nadula sa’kon kalibutan, Ang presensya mo indi gid ‘ya malupig Kag sang ikaw nangbaya sa imo nga kalibutan, Ang yuhom sang halos tanan nagbaliskad Sa mga dulumdumon nga imo guin bihag, Nangin mapait ang tanan nga kasanag Sa mga dulumdumon nga imo guin bilin, Nangin balas ang tanan nga imo guin siling

Sa imo nga pagpangalipay sa lain man nga kalibutan, Mabatyagan tani nakon ang imo nga kaalwan Sa imo nga paghalin pakadto sa bag-o mo nga puluy-an, Kabay pa nga matalupangdan mo nga ikaw may nahalitan

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This Night Kristina Victoriano

Ala-ala

As the moon rises up to the sky The calming darkness envelops the world like a sheet Night presides with silence as its song, A golden voice that tickles our feet to sleep.

Cris Barredo

On the canvas of the dark wide sky Lays thousands, no millions of stars that pass by The eerie masterpiece that tricks our eyes As the light that shines glistens we ask our whys.

Paligid ay tahimik.

Walang badya ang langit, Nang anumang hagupit.

Isang linggo matapos ang paghapit, Yolandang galit na galit.

Why ask for the day, when the sun hurts your eyes?

Whereas the night when the moon arrives you can linger to your heart’s content; Why wish for the quick arrival of day?

When the night can make you numb and calm, with its fair gloom?

Bandang alas onse ng gabi, Katahimika’y biglang na napawi.

Panaghoy ng mga taong nagmamadali.

Sigawan at bulyawang hindi mababali.

“Umalis na kayo!

Iwan nyo na ang mga bahay ninyo.

Andiyan na ang “tsunami”!

Ito na ang katapusan ng mundo!”

Unlike the day, where you could see light The dark has its own beauty perpetuated by the night A solemn power, so subtle yet strong That heals our wounds too quick as if not too long.

Aking ina’y natakot, Mga gamit ay hinakot, “Ang mga bata, dalian nyo!”

Daing ni inang takot na takot.

Sa mga mukha ng aking pamilya, Mababakas kaba at takot.

Kami ay takbo ng takbo, Hanggang mataas na bundok ay naabot.

“Gumising ka!”

Pukaw ng aking inang alalang-alala.

Nanaginip na naman ako, Sa mga pangyayari, sa tsunami’ng, maling akala.

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Photo

by

Jedrick Solinap

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Dead Stars Anglerfish

Look up, Some of the lights you see are from stars already dead millions of light years away Radiance deceives Intense light blinds Blink twice, Don’t always believe What you see

Midnight Swim

at

Dilim Dagat

Allana Delgado

Ang kosmos at ang dagat ay iisa lamang.

Marami pa rin ang planetang hindi natin kilala, Marami pa rin ang isdang hindi natin alam ang pangalan.

This late at night, Sino ba ang nakapag-lipad na napakataas, the horizon is blurred by the darkness At nahagilap ang katapusan ng kalawakan?

Sky and sea sharing the same obsidian gloss Sino ba ang nakapag-sisid na napakalalim, Almost as if, swimming far enough At nasulyapan ang lahat ng kumikinang na balat you’d find yourself floating Ng mga isdang tanging sa napaka-ilalim lang nabubuhay? on the surface of the atmosphere Sila’y mga bituin rin sa dilim, ang dagat ay kalawakan din. looking down at the shore below, Sila’y mga kaharian, kung saan walang sikat ng araw, bright stars bobbing beside you Dahil sila mismo ang liwanag. the moon only a stroke away At tanging ang walang-katapusang gabi Ang maghahari kailanman.

Sa katapusan ng mundo, sila’y mag-iisa, Aapaw ang tubig hanggang sa kalawakan, Ang mga sirena ay lalangoy patungong buwan, At ang gabi at tubig ang sasakop sa sanlibutan. rhick

lars

a l b ay

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Flashing Lights Rebel

rebel

Music makes you lose control Lights flashing, sounds clashing Eyes blinking, bodies crashing Skin touching, hearts pumping Speakers blaring, pressure rising,

Pagbangon

Rush is seeping through your bones Track repeat, goes on and on Dance and shout Strobe lights turn you in and out

Mikie Garcia

Come release, let go Let the music take control You are one with the crowd Hear the beat, hear the sound You are one with the night Among orbs of ultraviolet light Now, feel the trance Feel the world spinning, Spinning, dancing out of control Just let the music take you, Take you where your heart wants to go

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Nocturnal Bliss Joniemar Calderon

Her eyes are stars, seeing me all alone Holding my own gem of constellation, As she whispers love in seducing tone My heart responds a silent inception.

Strands of her goldilocks are moonlight beams Softly brushing upon my yearning spleen, Kissing hers is come in a thousand dreams Hewn from embers, lethal as ever been.

Feel her hot as ice, cold as cubes of fire A tang of hell, a touch of heaven’s flame, Beneath her lips my burning loins respire Night! Oh night, my meteor shower came!

Thawing in this lone venture is to keep Dreaming of nocturnal bliss in deepest sleep.

Sa bawat pagpikit ng mata sa gabi, Hanggang sa mawala ang iyong pandinig, Tiyak na ang pag-asa ay malalabi, Kahit na tumalikod pa ang daigdig.

Madama man ang putik sa pagkadapa, Kantiyawan man ng iba na parang lampa, Buhay ay hindi magdidilim kailanman, Tatag ay ‘di magigiba ni sinuman.

Kulang man ang armas na dala sa laban, Ni sa paghahanda ay may kasalatan, Sarili ang tanging pinanghahawakan, Kasama ang Diyos na siyang laging sandalan.

Pagsuko’y hindi kailanman naging opsyon, Sa puso ng taong may determinasyon.

‘Di man masisid ang problemang malalim, Oo, liwanag ang kasunod ng dilim.

Sa iyo’y walang may makapaghihinto Sa pagbangon na ‘yong dapat matamasa.

Habang buhay, iyong dapat mapagtanto Sa pagbangon muli ang tunay na puwersa.

DH

Nneka Solis Isang gabi, ako’y lumisan.

Ang gawin kong ito sa iyo’y nakalaan.

Mga munting halik mo’y gusto kong maramdaman, Ngunit ngayon ito’y ipagpaliban.

Passus et S ep u l t u s

Tuwing natutulog ako, ang mukha mo’y ninanais ko, Pero para sa ‘yo, hindi ako kumikibo Sapagka’t kapag ikaw ang nasa isip ko, Lungkot ang mararamdaman ko lalong-lalo.

R a m P a u l o A n aya n

Sa iyo ang pagmamahal ko’y gustong ibigay, Subalit sa sanggol ng iba ito’y inaalay.

Mahal kong anak, ikaw ay maghintay.

Hindi ito magtatagal, uuwi rin ako sa bahay.

Must I fulfill this cup of sacrifice?

With blood all wretched men it may redeem.

Shall come the comfort then of deaf’ning cries!

Pero ngayon, si Nanay doon sa malayo manatili, Para sa kinabukasan mo, Anak kong munti.

Gabi-gabi, sa Diyos ako’y nagdarasal palagi Na tayo’y aahon at magkita muli.

For long in malice, them did sin entice, But now they thirst for everlasting stream.

Must I fulfill this cup of sacrifice?

O tortuous burden dawns into my eyes!

My childlike soul now walks in deathly theme.

Shall come the comfort then of deaf’ning cries!

In darkness must I suffer once then thrice?

My tongue can too blaspheme this holy dream.

Must I fulfill this cup of sacrifice?

I l l u s t r at i o n

Take refuge! Fear have I to pay the price!

I dread to stain the earth in bloody stream.

Shall come the comfort then of deaf’ning cries!

by

J e s s G ava n

Then pierce, impale me quickly do so wise!

Yet I still pray I may not loudly scream.

Must I fulfill this cup of sacrifice?

Shall come the comfort then of deaf’ning cries!

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F i r e wa l k e r s A s h W e d n e s d ay

On the narrow pavement shaded by the fire tree Where spilled a thousand tiny suns We paced and braced our every step

Akin ang Gabi

Street lights flickering on Sunset rays casting shades of red on the ground A path of embers we needed to face

V i n ce P a l c u l l o

Sa paghalik ng dilim sa kalupaan, Ang kapa ng gabi ay masisilayan.

Misteryoso kung ito’y ituring ng iilan, May taglay naman itong karikta’t kapakinabangan.

Sa buhay ma’y nagkakaroon din ng gabi.

Sa kabila ng maaraw na mga ngiti.

Ang mga problema’y karimlan ng buhay, Pero ang itim na ito’y sa buhay ay kulay.

Maririkit na mga bagay, ating makikita.

Katulad ng mga alitaptap at mga maririlag na tala.

Patunay na sa buhay hindi ka kikinang, Kung tatahakin ay puro liwanag lamang.

Kahit pinakamaliit na liwanag ay iyong maaaninag, Kung ika’y sa gitna ng lugar na walang kasinag-sinag.

Sa buhay, sila’y mga taong ating masasandalan, May liwanag man o puro kadiliman.

Kaya kapag sa buhay, gabi’y dumating, Isiping ika’y talang nagniningning.

Dahil habang dumidilim, mas lalo kang tumitingkad.

Ang liwanag ng pag-asa, sa iyo’y namumukadkad.

At sa sarili’y kaya nang sambitin, “Ang gabing ito ay para sa akin!”.

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Difficult it may have been, gathering courage But as wary firewalkers we made our way Unsure steps becoming relished strides As above us the fire tree sang and swayed Letting her flowers fall slowly like sparks

E s s ays

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C o n f r o n t i n g D e s t i n yâœŚ Geony Provido

As silhouette against the Oriental skies, and as a lump of heavy black pastel to enrich the canvas of stark reality, the united front waged by the youth and the people against the powers that seek to oppress and exploit the greater mass if Filipinos snowballs and intensifies and stands ready to break into the fortresses of imperialism and tyranny. It shall prevail against the forces that were dimensional forms of the delusions and throes of ailing and the trashed titans of the current political spectrum and the socio-economic fabric of the Philippine Society.

The forces conspiring to suppress the genuine will and voice of the majority of our people may still be formidable, but who can eternally prevail when truth, justice, and freedom are denied and are being actively advocated by a rising percentage of Filipinos? What power can stem the momentum of the eventual and inevitable tsunamic struggle for a better Philippines?

The youth of the land shall consecrate itself to the task of unravelling the shrouds of the colonial past and free his country from the strangulation of the oppressive and bankrupt present. He shall never falter in his sacred obligation nor waive that candle of responsibility until that citadel of democracy and justice shall stand ever proud to guard that precious freedom and equality long denied from our people and the rich dust of our earth.

Slowly, slowly, that dark labyrinthine way is being crossed by our people. The marches have long begun. Clenched fists and placards and the mass of marchers cast its ominous shadow upon the sand, upon the land made richer inch by inch by tears, sweat, and blood. Tirades, confetti, and miscellaneous salvos drift along with the mist and sway earthward in a drizzle.

Heroes fall along the way but are never left behind. Not one precious life is expendable. The living and the dead together take part in the historic exodus – from the victimized past to a victorious future. The winter march may be long and hard but it will never cease until a new day shall cause a new sun to rise from the East and so generously cast its glow upon this land won over for Justice, Freedom, and Democracy.

âœŚ Republished from Centralite 1985 26

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I l l u s t r at i o n

by

Michael

angelo

Fandagani

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I l l u s t r at i o n

by

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A l l e n G r a ce T a b i

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Nyctophobia Jeziel Vargas

Phobia is defined as the irrational or obsessive fear or anxiety, usually of or about something in particular.

We exist in a world where fear rules as it strikes the hearts of all human beings, rational or irrational. Take the fear of losing someone dear, quite rational, isn’t it? Who could bear seeing the love of your life slowly bleeding to death and experiencing the most excruciating pain before your very eyes? Then there are such things as acrophobia-the fear of heights, algophobia- the fear of pain, anthropophobia- fear of the company of people, coulrophobia- the fear of clowns, glossophobia- fear of public speaking and nyctophobia- severe fear of the dark. Silly as they may seem to some it is their crippling weakness, their kryptonite.

But let us dig a little deeper and go past the obvious. People are not simply afraid of heights, pain, clowns and the dark. Things are not as what they seem, at first glance we may conclude that they are just scared of being in high places but those who suffer acrophobia do not fear heights, they fear falling. Falling to their doom, that imminent doom. Similarly pain isn’t what algophobes fear rather they are scared of being hurt by the people closest to them, by those they thought would never hurt them. It isn’t the fear of clowns, company or public speaking that drives people to cower away and hide,rather the fear of what clowns may do to them, the hurt and betrayal of people in the end or the rejection they may face upon standing up in front of a lot of people.

Likewise it is not the dark nyctophobes fear but what lurks in the dark. The monsters and creatures hiding in the dark corners or under the bed waiting to pounce on them. The same fiends that come alive in horror stories and in the deepest parts of our imagination that cause cold sweat to trickle down our foreheads and shivers to run down our spine.

So when the sun is blocked out and shadows are no more, when you are submerged in total darkness I suggest you take a deep breath, whisper a prayer of strength and courage and face your fears. Enough running, take your sword and fight off the fear, vanquish the enemy.

Kill the darkness.

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I l l u s t r at i o n

by

V e r n a R o z T a pe r l a

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Procrastination Nation Paul Mackey Marfil

The concept of tomorrow is much more like a surreal place where all the laws of physics get crushed and infinity becomes more than just a mere thought. It is where countless dreams and innumerable ambitions walk aimlessly. The idea of reality in this ravaged land is a proverbial taboo. Many, upon entering, have tried to escape the malevolent Cerberus guarding its exit gates, yet not a single soul has ever escaped.

We always complain about how time consumes our day to day lives. Like a parasite perched on top of an animal’s back, time sucks the life out of you, and you’re left with nothing but less time. You struggle to win back what you have lost, only to find yourself in the end begging for more time.

For most of us, it’s already an established fact that time functions like an arrow: once it is released, it will go on and on until it pierces its target, and never the other way around. It is this idea—the idea that we can never tame time and its flow—that has left us in the shade, enslaved by the tormentor known as time.

But our species is a relentless one. A handful of men and women have stood up and rebelled against the oppression of time, and thus have created a cult known to many as “The Procrastinators”.

Every day, the zealous followers of this cult worship a divine being known to them as “The Eternal

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Tomorrow”, and every home work, every project, and every goal is an offering to this deity.

But still, not even the bloodiest coup nor the most loathsome perversion of deadlines can ever change the reality that we are still powerless to the dominance of time, and by joining the cult of procrastinators is, indeed, not the best way to deal with such dominance.

If only we could bend time, like the clocks in Salvador Dali’s surreal painting, “The Persistence of Memory.” If only we are smart enough to apply Einstein’s Theory of General Relativity to warp time ourselves and prolong our habit of procrastination. Unfortunately, we just can’t do all of these.

Procrastination is an insidious cancer cell. At first, it might seem harmless and benign, but as the days come and go it will spread all throughout your system, damaging not only the physical but the other aspects of your life as well. I know, because I, too, have been deceived by the brilliance of “The Eternal Tomorrow”. Home works, projects, studying schedules . . . all went down the drain as the waters of procrastination washed them down the sewers of oblivion. And there, in that subterranean pit, the faint voices of the I-Will-Do-It-Tomorrow’s and the I-Promise-It-Will-BeDone-Soon’s get lost in the echoes of regret.

To see ourselves drowning in an ocean of school works is an inevitable sight. The goal is simple: show courage amidst the waves, swim to shore, and get your diploma. But procrastination will always be there to trick you, to offer you boats that you might think would help you get through the waters more easily. And in the end, those boats might just bring you farther from shore, until you find yourself, and your goals and aspirations, adrift in an ocean of no certainties—lost and left behind.

But maybe there’s still time, time to refurbish our lives and let our habit of procrastinating die a slow but painful death, time to free ourselves from the chains that keep our hands from working diligently in life. Maybe it’s better this way, to fully surrender ourselves to the power that dictates the rising and setting of the sun, to accept the fact that our days are numbered and that we’re only given limited time to finish with a degree, to hang out with friends, to spend time with our families, and to make a life that is worth living.

Until now, tomorrow is considered to be a place of mystery; its location, still unknown. What we are certain of is that the numerous tales of those who have ventured near its gates are subject to oblivion, together with the dreams and aspirations locked up behind its gates … forever.

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Short Stories

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Pleiades Stones

upon

the

Allana Delgado

When Asper was young, he was forbidden to go to a place near the ocean – the sandless shore where sea meets black cliffs and obsidian rocks shining like oil-slick coal beneath the sun. He can see it from his bedroom window: after the expanse of grassland dotted by trees and grazing cows, was the barren landscape of the onyx rock beach, then blue sea in the full horizon, and the vaster sky still after that. His mother said no fisherman dared to catch there... old stories tell of capsized boats and drowned men.

He was fifteen when one night, he woke to the sound of faint music, and saw a glow on his window. He looked and saw: what were rocks during the day, we’re now an entrance to a shining urban magical metropolis, a city so wide it filled the horizon. Upon the sea were silver circle islands with impossibly high, narrow buildings, made of gold and obsidian. They were higher than anything Asper has ever seen, their needle tips seemed to reach the stars. Large and burning red phoenixes, which seemed to Asper like gliding angels, flew high above the city. Then, in the middle of it all, floating still on its own, was the largest building – a black pyramid. It was almost an entity, an ominous block of shadow, a black hole which swallows and deflects all light. In the middle of the pyramid wall was a single golden eye, and its pupil was the full moon. It was the actual moon, the satellite orbiting Earth, plucked out of space to decorate this architecture. Then, it moved. The allseeing eye looked left and right, then straight at him. Even that far away, it seemed to recognize him.

Then, the city faded, leaving only darkness and the still sea. The shadow pyramid disappeared last, leaving the moon alone. It was still in the same position, the low moon of early morning. When he woke, he still wondered if it was real, or a dream.

He told his mother that he saw the shining place. She wasn’t surprised.

“Many have seen that. But whenever they get near the place, it’s only the sea and black rocks again. They said that was the kingdom of encanto – and long ago a poor farmer got rich trading with one. Not until he finally admitted to his friends where all his money came from when he was drunk, and one agreement with encanto was to never ever speak of them, and he came out poorer than before,” his mother said. “Many have tried to find that city by the sea, many have reported sightings, but none has reached it.”

Asper liked his mother’s soft voice, and she used to tell him myths and legends before he slept – the way she told them, as if they were real and she believed them. How many still know of Kaptan

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I l l u s t r at i o n

by

Tzar Jewel Balandra

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and Maguayen, the gods of sky and ocean, in their own mythology? His high school classmates only knew of Zeus, Osiris, or Amaterasu... mother’s stories spoken in his own language were more beautiful, close to a hidden space beside his heart.

The following nights, he waited, anxious at his window, for it to appear again. He decided to go to the beach, figuring out the city might appear only during full moons. He slipped out the house after midnight, mother sleeping downstairs and not awake to warn him. He reached the place, and it was the same – no shining castles, no angel phoenixes, only heavy rolling waves slapping against the rocks, the mist tasting of saltwater in the air. In the dark, the water seemed to curl around the full moon before falling back to the sea.

Then the city appeared, rising out of the ocean like Atlantis revived. Asper’s eyes widened, the sight inspired more awe now that he was near. Before, he only saw it a kilometer away from his bedroom window. A bridge made of bone assembled itself before him, leading him to the center of the city, to the pyramid bigger than mountains, the Moon eye watching him like a silent witness.

Fear caught his heart, but the nearness and majesty of the place made his breath stop. Placing his feet on the first step, he looked back to his faraway home so small in the distance. Then, before his fear would make him falter, he ran straight to the bridge knowing that there’s no going back.

The bridge collapsed to the sea when he reached the vast pyramid. The enormous eye looked down on him, and he saw an open triangular door. He stepped in.

Inside was vast night, the ad infinitum of space. The floor was a wide mirror, reflecting the eternal universe above him, and he walked upon it imagining he was stepping in the very depths of space. In the middle of it all was a glass throne where a woman sat. Her feet rested on grey and red sand, Moon dust and Mars rust, and her dress was layers of shadow. Her long hair fell to the floor, and he couldn’t tell where it ended and where black of space began. Upon her hair were silver spider web strings beaded with tiny star stones: red and blue sapphires, gold topaz, and faceted diamonds giving off light. She had a crown with a single crescent, white moonstone and ice opal, poised above her forehead like a horn. Her eyes, slightly closed, were the palest grey-blue. Her skin was blank, mother-of-pearl pale.

“Who are you?” Asper whispered. He already left all logic back home.

Her eyes opened, regarding him, they held vast knowledge, of space between stars.

“I am as I am. I am Noctis, Night, Moon, Stars, Planets. I am nightmares and dreams, I am Cosmos, Sandman, Unconscious, Death, Darkness, Abyss,” her voice spoke, and Asper shivered, it was a voice like a phantasm enveloping him. “I am the gatekeeper of this world. Anyone who wishes to enter comes through me first. Your name, mortal?”

“Asper,” he said, feeling ashamed for being a mere boy.

“You’ve seen this place for a reason. It only shows itself to few. And you... belong here.”

“What is this place?”

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“The threshold between heaven and hell and all worlds. Do you wish to enter?”

The silence after her question hung heavy between them.

“If you ever see them, they’d try to invite you in. Don’t eat their food, don’t agree to any bargain.

They dine on human hearts, they take away souls, and you will wander forever until you fade, no heaven will be waiting for you”, his mother’s bedtime whispers haunting his memory again. But those were only rumors, false stories of those who haven’t been here.

The city on the other side, though unseen, promised him everything he ever wanted: Wonder, magic, another way out of the mundane world, all things he hadn’t thought possible, a world meant for him all this time. All his life seems so puny, useless, not a life at all.

The woman plucked the Earth out of the space above her, the blue, white, and green sphere fitting on her palm. Other, impossible planets surrounded them: mute, heavy, exquisite as precious stones.

“Yes,” he said, and Earth burned on the woman’s hands, leaving only black dust on her palms.

He entered a heavy door, and saw countless pale fairies inside, their beautiful faces smiling, as if welcoming him home. They danced, ate, laughed, letting him in. A girl with long, pearly hair wearing a spidersilk dress and dragonfly wings held his hands and led him to the dance on the wide, endless forest floor. She smiled, showing yellow, blood-stained wolf teeth. Asper looked down at his own clothes, now a fine black suit with tiny blood-red roses for buttons. He smiled back. He felt magic run through his veins, and curling vines sprouted on the ground where he stepped.

“That is Night. She is our mother. We were all human once. But forget about that. We’ll show you everything soon,” she whispered, kissed him, her mouth tasting of peppermint.

Soon, after everyone was spent and lying on the ground, they watched the many moons and blazing, red birds in their sky. He felt no regret. This was only the first night of his true life.

There was an empty space where his heart used to be. He saw, in the middle of everything, a vast tree with emerald leaves teeming with red fruit – thousands of hearts, now made of crimson glass.

Somewhere, he saw his own, still dripping fresh blood.

A boy named Asper went missing, and his mother died soon after. Sometimes, during full moons, they see the shadow of someone walking on the black rocks of the empty beach, and the glow of an invisible city like auroras in the sky. But when they get near, the mirage would be gone and would only sea and black rocks after all.

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Photo by

M a u r i ce Z a f r a

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Childhood Promises Jeziel Vargas

“Let’s go play hide and seek” Jack said to the little girl with pigtails in a pink shirt hugging her brown teddy bear. She kept on shaking her head as she looked at him, pleading “Please not now Jack.”

“Why? Oh come on Rose, come it will be fun I promise.” “It’s not fun! It will never be! You know I’m scared of the dark!” Rose said as her almond eyes began to water. Jack who is no fan of the water works and hates feeling like a bully finally conceded. “Okay Rose, you win we’ll stay inside, for now.”

He’s just too scared to hurt his best friend.

“Oh thank you Jack!” and she squealed and hugged him tight. “Well what should we do now?” asked the little girl. The boy stared out into the window and kept silent for a while and began to say, “The moon, look at it, it’s like a big pearl on my mom’s necklace.” The little girl clambered up by the window sill to get a better view. They both admired the moon that resembled a pearl against the velvety sky. They wondered and pondered with their little minds how on earth did the moon get up there when it wasn’t there that morning as they were playing in the yard or in the afternoon as they frolicked in the autumn leaves. They were bedazzled by the glittering lights beside it. They began to reach up and grab some to play with it but alas they couldn’t. Their arms were far too short and they didn’t dare to reach out more for the fear of falling. “I wish to play with the glittery lights!” Rose said with a pout. “Stars.” “What?” was the abrupt question of the ever curious Rose. “Stars, those are called stars. Mom said there are a lot of stars. A whole lot that you couldn’t see all of them at the same time when you look at the sky” was sweet Jack’s.

“Well I want to play with them. But I couldn’t reach them, my arms are too short.” Then little Rose crossed her arms across her chest and made a face. The kind she uses with everyone to get what she wants. “Don’t worry Rose, when I grow up and my hands are long enough I’ll get those pretty stars just for you.” After hearing his promise the little girl beamed a toothy smile at him. She felt like a princess, with a knight who has sworn undying allegiance to her. Her thoughts were cut short as Jack began to muse, “But by then you have to be not afraid of the dark.”

With this, cold sweat trickled down Rose’s forehead and chills ran up and down her spine. She remembered all the stories of monsters that devour children in the dark. “No I don’t think I’ll be brave enough for that” she barely said in a whisper. “Why not?” asked Jack. “Because, the monsters are” and she was cut off when Jack held her hand. “There are no monsters to be scared of Rose, come I’ll show. I promise I won’t let go of your hand, come outside with me. We’ll watch the moon from there.”

“You promise?” came the doubtful answer. “Pinky swear Rose. I won’t let go of your hand.” Then they ran out the door to the front yard to watch the moon rise above the trees in the velvety sky to dance along the thousands stars that glitter up high.

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I l l u s t r at i o n by

Irish Paoline Jurinario

Tuwing Alas-Onse Irish Paoline Jurinario

10:55 PM.

Limang minuto bago mag-alas-onse.

Kailangan kong makarating doon sa loob ng limang minuto.

Takbo.

Takbo pa.

Malapit na ako.

Hayan na.

Malapit na malapit na.

“Sa wakas! Nakarating din ako!”

“Late ka ng tatlong segundo, Jizelle. Diba ang usapan alas-onse. Tingnan mo nga nagsisimula na at hindi mo naabutan,” heto na naman. Pumuputak na naman siya.

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“Sorry naman, di ba? Once a year na nga lang tayo nagkikita tapos ang sungit-sungit mo pa,” sabi ko habang nakapamewang. “Kahit anong sabihin mo late ka pa rin,” ang sungit talaga. Sinenyasan niya ako na umupo at ginawa ko naman.

“Ang ganda niya talaga,” napabulong ako habang pinagmamasdan ang dahilan ng pagpuslit ko sa bahay. Isang klase ng Night Blooming Cereus, ang Queen of the Night. Bulaklak na bumubukadkad isang beses sa isang taon at nananatili lamang sa loob ng anim na oras.

“Ang ingay mo, Jizelle.”

“Pag-aari mo ba itong gubat? Kung makapagsalita ‘to. Tsaka nakalimutan mo na ba? Once a year lang tayo kung magkita. Once a year. Maging mabait ka naman kahit minsan lang,” inemphasize ko talaga ang ‘once a year’.

“Ewan ko sa iyo. Ang ingay mo pa rin.”

Bawat minuto mas lumalaki ang bukadkad ng bulaklak. Idagdag pa na nasisinagan ito ng liwanag ng buwan. Parang tuloy kumikinang ang napakaputi nitong kulay. Nang dahil sa bulaklak na ‘to, nakilala ko si Yaze.

Nalaman ko ang tungkol sa Queen of the Night sa lola ko noong nagbabakasyon ako sa probinsya nila. Nang sinabi niya sa akin na posible daw na mayroong ganoong bulaklak sa lilipatan namin, laking tuwa ko. Hindi natagalan at lumipat kami, agad akong pumunta sa likod ng bahay namin. Itinakbo ko ang buong gubat. Mahigit isang oras na akong naghahanap pero walang senyales ng bulaklak. Iyak ako ng iyak sa takot noon. Gabi na kasi at nag-iisa lang ako sa gitna ng gubat. Pero sa mga oras na iyon, doon ko nakilala si Yaze. “Hoy bata. Ang luha at sipon mo tumutulo ng sabay.

Ang panget mo,” at sa kasamaang palad, walang nagbago ni katiting sa ugali niya. Kung ano siya noon, ganoon pa rin siya ngayon. Ipinaliwanag niya sa’kin na sa gabi lang namumulaklak ang Queen of the Night. Iyon pala ang dahilan kung bakit hindi ko iyon makita at nagmukha akong tanga kanina.

Wala akong ganoong klaseng espesyal na nararamdaman kay Yaze. Wala nga ba? Pero sa tuwing nakakasama ko siya sa ganitong oras bawat taon, napapangiti ako. Siguro dahil nakatagpo ako na tao ng may parehong interes katulad ng sa akin.

“Hoy Jizelle. Tirik na ang araw, gumising ka na diyan,” nagising ako sa pagpisil ni Yaze sa pisngi ko. “Kailangan ko ng umalis,” sabi niya habang tumatayo.

“Ako rin. Sabay na tayo.”

“Iba ang direksyon ko sa bahay niyo. Sige mauna na ako, Jizelle.”

“S-Sige. See you next year, Yaze.” Wala pa ring nagbago. Sampung taon na kaming nagkikita dito pero nananatili pa rin siyang isang misteryo sa’kin. Hindi niya sinasabi kung saan siya nakatira, basta daw malayo ang bahay niya sa gubat na ‘to at pumupunta lang siya sa lugar namin para makita ang pamumukadkad ng Queen of the Night. Kahit nga apelyido at cellphone number niya hindi ko alam.

Pero hindi na bale, magkikita pa rin naman kami sa susunod na taon. Makakasama ko na naman siya sa loob ng anim na oras. Hintay lang, Jizelle. Hintay lang.

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Pitong buwan na ang lumipas. Hindi na ako makapaghintay na makita si Yaze—este ang Queen of the Night. “Mukhang may bagong factory na ipapatayo dito sa bayan natin,” sabi ni papa. Nasa hapagkainan kami at kasalukuyang kumakain ng hapunan. “Sabi kasi ng kumpare ko’y may mayaman daw na bumili ng lupa sa bakanteng lote diyan sa likod ng bahay natin. Madami na rin kasing nagrereklamo na napakasukal daw ng gubat na nandiyan”

Clang.

Nahulog ang kutsarang hawak-hawak ko. “A-Ano ulit iyon pa?” tanong ko.

“Ang sabi ko, may bagong factory na ipapatayo diyan banda sa likod ng bahay. Kaya huwag ka ng pupunta diyan Jizelle. Pribadong pag-aari na iyan. Delikado kapag nahuli ka na pumupuslit diyan” paalala niya. Hindi agad-agad naproseso sa utak ko ang mga sinabi ni papa. Kapag mawala ang gubat na iyon, mawawala din ang Queen of the Night, mawawala ang rason ni Yaze sa pagpunta dito at hindi ko na siya makikita pa. Ayokong magkaganun.

Isang buwan bago mamulaklak ang Queen of the Night. Nagsimula na ang paggawa ng factory. Malaking parte na ng gubat ang nawala. Talagang mayaman ang bumili ng lupa, mukhang napakalaking paktorya ang ipinapagawa niya. Mabilis na lumipas ang mga araw. Mamayang alas onse ng gabi magkikita na naman kami ni Yaze. Makikita na naman namin ang pamumukadkad ng Queen of the Night. Nagmadali akong umalis ng bahay at tinahak ang daan papuntang gubat.

Nakarating ako doon isang oras bago mag-alas-onse. Umupo ako sa damuhan at binantayan ang oras. Dumating ang alas-onse at nagsisimula ng mamukadkad ang Queen of the Night. Hindi nagtagal, narinig ko ang mga yapak na papunta sa direksyon ko. At tama nga ang hinala ko, si Yaze.

“Late ka ng tatlong segundo Yaze. Diba ang usapan alas-onse. Tingnan mo nga nagsisimula na at hindi mo naabutan,” bulalas ko noong nasa harapan ko na siya.

“Hindi mo kailangang ulitin ang mga salitang sinabi ko sa’yo noong nakaraang taon. Alam kong late ako”

Basag. Saksakan talaga ng sungit!

“Ang KJ mo. Ikaw na nga ‘tong nalate eh,” sabi ko at sinabayan siyang umupo sa harap ng bulaklak. Gusto kong i-open up ang tungkol sa paggawa ng factory pero hindi ko alam kung saan ako magsisimula. “Nakita ko ang ginagawang factory kanina. Hindi magtatagal at madadamay ang parte na ‘to ng gubat. Mawawala na din ‘tong bulaklak. Anong gagawin mo?” nagulat ako ng bigla siyang nagsalita tungkol sa iniiwasan kong topiko.

“M-Magagawa? May magagawa ba ako? Legal na binili ang lupa na’to at isa lang akong estudyante. Kahit magprotesta ako walang mangyayari”

“Hmm.” Tiningnan niya ako na parang sinisiyasat niya ang laman ng isipan ko. “Jizelle, tanungin mo ako ng kahit na ano”

“Ha?” nagloading ata ang utak ko doon ah. Ano daw?

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“Tanungin mo ako ng kahit ano na gusto mong malaman tungkol sa’kin. Dahil mawawala na ang bulaklak, baka ito na rin ang huli nating pagkikita. Wala na kasi akong rason para pumunta dito.

Kaya sa loob ng anim na oras, magtanong ka lang at sasagot ako.”

Hayan na.

Nagmula na mismo sa kanya. Baka ito na ang huli naming pagkikita. Wala na akong ibang maisip kundi ang gawin kung ano ang sinabi niya. Kahit na ayaw ko. Gusto ko pa siyang makita kahit once a year lang. Kahit masungit siya natitiis ko pa naman. Kahit wala na ang bulaklak. Pero wala akong lakas ng loob para sabihin ang mga bagay na iyon sa kanya.

“Saan ka nakatira?”

“Sa Cereus”

“Ha? Saang lupalop ng Pilipinas iyon?”

“Basta”

“Ano ang cellphone number mo?”

“Wala akong cellphone”

“Eh email address?”

“Wala din akong email”

“Yaze naman eh”

“Seryoso ako sa mga sagot ko”

“Kapag ako niloloko mo, sasapakin kita” pero kahit sinabi ko iyon, mukhang totoo talaga ang mga sinasabi ni Yaze. Lumipas ang lima’t kalahating oras at patuloy lang ang pagtatanong ko kay Yaze. Pakiramdam ko nga isinaysay niya na ang talambuhay niya sa’kin.

“Kailangan ko ng umalis,” sabi niya sabay tayo. Tumayo na rin ako. Kahit ayaw ko man tanggapin, siguradong ito na ang huling pagkikita namin. Wala ng next year. “Jizelle..” napabaling ako sa kanya at laking gulat ko ng bigla niya akong niyakap.

“O-oy. Yaze—“

“Salamat sa mga lumipas na taon. Thank you dahil sinamahan mo ako dito at tiniis ang kasungitan ko. Gusto ko pa sanang maging masungit sa’yo hanggang sa huli.. pero huli na nga ‘to eh.

Ayoko namang sirain. Kaya salamat..maraming salamat.” Nanigas ako ng mga oras na iyon. Hindi ko naramdaman ang paggalaw ng sarili kong mga kamay na kusang yumakap pabalik kay Yaze. Ayoko siyang umalis. Gusto ko pa siyang makita. Gusto ko pa siyang makakwentuhan.

“Yaze sa amin ka na lang tumira.”

“Baliw.”

“Magkikita pa naman siguro tayo, di ba? Baka isang araw magkasalubong tayo sa daan o baka

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magkatrabaho pa tayo. Baka magkasabay tayo sa tren o sa jeep o kahit saan, di ba? Hindi ka naman manghuhula para malaman ang future”

“Ganoon mo ba ako kamahal, Jizelle?”

“Huwag kang feeling,” kumawala ako sa yakap niya at tumalikod. Nakakahiya.

Tama. Hindi dapat ako malungkot. Hindi naman sigurado na hindi na kami magkikita. Bakit ba ang pessimistic ko masyado? “Ah alam ko na,” bigla kong nasabi. Humarap ako kay Yaze at kinuha ang cellphone ko. “Picture tayo Yaze!” Agad kong kinuha ang braso niya at iniangat ang cellphone ko.

“1..2..3..Smile!”

Iyon ang huli naming pagkikita ni Yaze. Anim na araw na ang lumipas. Nandito ako ngayon sa mall at hinihintay ang pinadevelop kong picture, iyong litrato na kinuha ko kasama siya. Noong binisita ko kahapon ang bulaklak, wala na akong nadatnan. Napuno ang lugar na iyon ng amoy ng semento at napalitan ang mga damo ng kagamitan na ginagamit sa paggawa ng paktorya.

Ngayon na iniisip ko ‘to, naalala ko ang sinabi ni lola. “Alam mo bang palaging may puting paru-paro na kasama ang bulaklak na iyan sa tuwing mamumukadkad siya? Nananatili doon ang paru-paro sa loob ng anim na oras at saka umaalis kapag kikipot na ang bulaklak. Akala nga ng iba’y nagbabantay ito doon”.

Parang si Yaze. Susulpot at aalis bigla-bigla. Tumayo na ako at kinuha ang litrato, nagbayad, saka umalis. Nasa daan ako nang bigla akong nagdesisyon na tingnan ang litrato namin. Hindi ko maipaliwanag pero gusto kong makita ang mukha ni Yaze. Ganito ko ba siya kamiss? Ni hindi ko nga boypren iyon. At mukhang unrequited pa itong nararamdaman ko. Ang malas mo talaga, Jizelle.

Kinuha ko na ang litrato sa lalagyan nito pero noong tingnan ko, nanigas ako sa kinatatayuan ko. Nakita ko ang sarili ko, kita din sa likuran ko ang Queen of the Night...pero walang Yaze sa litrato. Nagmukha lang akong kumukuha ng selfie. Ngunit may isang bagay na mas lalong ikinagulo ng isipan ko. Sa lugar kung saan nakatayo si Yaze habang hawak-hawak ko ang braso niya at kinukuha ang litrato ay may isang paru-paro. Puting paru-paro.

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I l l u s t r at i o n by

Irish Paoline Jurinario

Ang Pangatlong Susi Mikie Garcia

Limampung taon na ang nakalipas nang masabi mo ang mga katagang “Huwag kang mag-alala dahil babalikan kita kapag ako’y aalis. Sa gabi ng iyong pagtulog, ako’y iyong mahahagkan. Sa umaga ng ating paggising tayo’y magkayakap at sa mga nalalabing oras ng ating buhay, ang pagmamahalan natin ay hindi kailanmang susuko.” Alam ko sa sarili ko na may kahulugan ang bawat elemento ng kanyang mga sinabi at alam ko na ang pag-asa ang maghahatid sa akin sa pagsalubong nito.

Hindi ako makapaniwala noon na dinala mo ako sa isang lugar kung saan nakagapos ako samantalang galit na galit dahil sa hindi mo pagsipot sa aking pinakaespesyal na araw, na halos manigas ako na parang bato sa kahahantay.

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Inilabas mo ako ng panakaw ng hatinggabi noon na labag sa aking kalooban habang magangmaga ang aking mga mata sa kaiiyak sa pag-abang at pag-asang masusulyapan ko lamang kahit konti ang iyong anino. Nangyari nga ngunit hindi ako na bigyan ng oportunidad dahil nakapiring na ang aking mga mata.

Huminto ang sasakyan kung saan ako naroroon sa kasalukuyan habang ganoon pa rin ang sitwasyon, nakagapos, walang makita, uhaw na uhaw sa kasagutan kung bakit ginagawa ito sa akin. Nagkaroon pa ng ilang mga minuto na nasa ganoong estado pa rin ako, medyo nakaidlip ng konti bago ako nakalanghap ng hangin sa labas. Grabe naman itong dinanas ko na tila alam kong nakapantulog lamang ako at ginaw na ginaw na sa hagayhay ng dilim.

“Ano ba!!! Jof! Tigilan mo na‘to. Ayaw ko na ng mga pakana mong ewan!“, tili galing sa aking lalamunan.

Ngunit wala akong tugon na nalagap. Saan si Jof?

Medyo naging tanga ako sa kasalukuyang iyon na hindi naman pala gaano kahigpit ang pagtali sa aking mga kamay. Kaya na kalagan ko ang aking sarili at sa wakas ay nabigyang ginhawa ko ang aking mga mata sa pagtagpo ng mga kasagutan sa aking mga nararanasan.

Blanko. Wala talagang tao sa paligid. Ngunit may isang ilaw na nakanakaw ng aking pansin.

Pumaroon ako hanggang sa makarating na sa aking destinasyon. Nagulat ako na ang ilaw na ito ay makikita sa isang ginayakang gazebo. Wala akong maisip na mabuti noon kundi ang kailangan kong makita ay ang anino ni Jof. Isinigaw ko ang kanyang pangalan ngunit napakadilim na ang tumugon lamang sa akin ay ang mga tunog ng kuliglig sa paligid. May pintuang nakasalubong sa aking harapan kaya hindi ako nagdalawang isip na buksan ito.

Sarado. Naku naman! Bakit ganito pa. Napayuko ako dahil sa bigong mabuksan ang pintuan.

Nang tumalikod ako at yumapak ng aking unang hakbang, nakita ko sa aking paanan ang susi na may isang liham na nakaadres para sa akin. Siyempre pinulot ko at dali-daling binuksan ang pinto, ngunit hindi ito nagkasya at muli, nabigo na naman akong masulyapan agad kung ano ang nasa loob.

Binalikan ko ang liham at binasa.

“Mahal ko, isuot mo ang damit na matatagpuan sa loob ng cabinet na nasa kaliwa mo. At doon mo makikita ang susunod na liham na may kasamang …….” May pumatak na tubig galing sa kisame at dumapo sa aking liham, kaya nabura ang mga kasunod na mga salita sa liham. Nilagdaan lamang ito ni ‘Jof’. Hindi ko man na intindihan ang ilang mga salita sa huling kanyang sinabi, pero sinunod ko ang kanyang utos na buksan ang kabinet.

Aba! Ang ganda ng damit. Pero nagtaka talaga ako bakit sa hatinggabi pa ako susuot ng ganito.

Kung idedate niya ko sa ganitong oras, aba! Nagkakamali siya! Subalit wala akong magawa kundi suotin ito dahil hindi ko rin malalaman ang kanyang pakana kapag sumuway pa ako.

Nang naiayos ko na ang aking sarili, bigla akong napakupit ng isang bagay sa bulsa ko na nagiging istorbo sa aking kaliwang beywang. Sulat. Napakawais naman nitong taong ito at talagang hindi ko

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malalaman ang sagot kapag hindi talaga ako uugnay sa kanyang mga pinaplano. Nagiging detective ako sa aking ginagawa sapagkat nagsosolb ako yata ng mystery sa oras na ito, na kung isipin himbing na himbing ang tulog ng lahat. Nakakainis!

May susi! kasama ang liham na nagsasabing…

“Mahal, Pasensya na at pinapaikot-ikot pa kita. Handa ka na ba? Isa nalang at maaari mo na akong sampalin pagkatapos ng last kong ipapakiusap sa’yo. Gamitin mo ang susing ito pambukas ng nakadikit na munting kabinet sa pader malapit sa pinto na gustong-gusto mo nang buksan.” , nilagdaan muli ni jof.

Agad kong ipinasok ang pangalawang susi na natagpuan ko sa munting kabinet.

Bulaklak? Mas masarap sana ang pakiramdam kung siya ang magbibigay nito sa akin ng personal pero ako pa talaga ang aabot nito para sa akin. Napakatamad naman nitong si Jof. Ano? Tatayo na lamang siya at pupunta sa upuan mamaya kung saan kami kakain at mag-uusap na lamang at isang sorry okay na agad? Grabe ha! Kinuha ko ang bouquet at may kasamang liham na naman na nakaipit sa gitna. Binasa ko at umaasa na talaga ako na ang susi na mahahawakan ko ay talagang susi na para sa malaking pinto kung saan ako’y papasok.

“Mahal, Sa wakas at nabasa mo na ito. Wala na akong kabinet na ipapabukas sa’yo at wala na rin akong hihingin pa. Kaya pumasok ka na sa pintuan at ihanda mo na ang sarili mo sa susunod na kabanata ng aking sorpresa.”

“P.S. ~~~Ang pinto na makikita mo sa iyong harapan ay hindi yan ang pinto kung saan ika’y papasok. Umikot ka sa kabilang parte ng gazebong ito at doon mo makikita ang pintong alam kong gusto mong pasukin sa buong buhay mo. Alam ko ring inis na inis ka na pero mahal na mahal kita!~~~“ –Jof

Kahit sa huli, tanga pa rin ako sa mga panukala niya sa akin. Hindi ko man lang inikot yung buong lugar kung nasaan ako, nasa likod pala ‘yung pintuan na dapat sana kanina ko pa nabuksan.

Hay naku! Atleast hindi ako naging KJ. Huminga ako ng malalim at binuksan na kaagad ang pinto.

Patak.

Pumapatak.

Pumatak ang luha galing sa aking mga mata. Hindi sa galit na natamo ko sa sobrang inis o sa sakit na nadama noong ilang oras akong naghintay noong isang araw para lamang sa kanya. Ang tamis ng mga biyolin at tipahan na tumutugtog ng aking paboritong kanta, ang mga malilinaw na liwanag ng mga ilaw na nasa palibot ng pasilyo, ang mga makikintab na ngiti ng bawat tao sa aking paningin habang sila’y nakatutok sa akin, at ang nag-iisang tao sa gitnang harapan na nakasuot ng tuxedong kulay itim, ang naghihintay sa aking pagtawid sa kinaroonan ko ngayon.

Hindi pala ito isang date lamang upang kami’y magkaayos. Tama nga si Jof at ito ang hatinggabi na hindi ko kailanman ipagpapalit sa galit na aking nadarama kanina. Ang pintuan kung saan ako’y

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pumasok, ang lagusan nga ng aking pagiging maligaya habangbuhay. Sinabi niya ang mga katagang iyon na aking ibinanggit kanina kung saan ako’y nagbigay ng isang malaking “OO” sa kaniyang kahilingang maging permanente na ako sa kanyang buhay.

Hindi ko kailanman malilimutan ang mga masasariwang alaala niya sa akin. Mahilig talagang magpahintay sa akin si Jof. Oras lamang ang hinintay ko noon. Pero ngayon, araw at gabi, linggo’t mga taon ang aking paghihintay muli. Medyo matagal-tagal pero alam kong malapit na ang oras ng aming pagtatagpo muli.

Nang binuksan ko ang baul kung saan ang mga ala-ala namin ay nakatago, larawan, mga liham, at mga regalo noong kami’y nagsisimula pa lamang bilang magnobyo, napangiti ako ng todo sa mga kakornihan naming dalawa. Ngunit may isang liham na hindi pamilyar sa aking mga mata at alam kong hindi ko kailanman ito nabasa. Binuksan ko ang liham at alam kong hindi niya ako iniiwan kahit wala na siya.

Patak.

Pumatak sa huling pagkakataon ang mga luha galing sa aking mata.

“Mahal, kapag nawala ako, alalahanin mo ang mga sinabi ko noong una tayong naging magasawa. Hindi man ako naging perpekto sa ating mga kasunduan, hindi man ako mananatili dito sa mundo ng pangmatagalan, hiling ko lamang sa huling pagkakataon na sana’y matagpuan mo ang pangatlong susi na alam kong alam mo kung saan nakatago.” –Jof

Kahit hindi man nagtagal ng marami pa sanang panahon ang aming pagsasama dito sa mundo dahil sa malubhang karamdaman niya noong nabubuhay pa siya, kahit ilang beses niya akong sinabihan na humanap ako ng lalaking papalit sa kanya na mag-aalaga sa akin kahit ako’y matanda na, kahit mga segundo na lamang ang natitira sa amin, alam kong itong tunay at walang hanggang pag-ibig, ang susi ko patungo muli kay Jof.

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I l l u s t r at i o n by

J e s s G ava n

N a n ay ’ s P l e d g e Nneka Solis

I waved my little arms up and down as I bid farewell to my friends after a long game of patintero.

They waved back, marking the end of a long day of play. The glacial breeze penetrated my pores, and I shivered for a bit. I clutched my slingshot – my most prized possession – close to my chest, as the crickets began to sing their chorus.

All alone I walked along the empty, dusty road. I peered towards the vast sky changed hues from a bright vermillion into a deep indigo. The sun’s rays completely sank into the horizon, giving place for night to stay. Little by little, my path grew dark and dainty stars began to emerge in the pitch-black sky, until they formed a brilliant diamond blanket up above. My young innocent heart brightened up with awe.

Suddenly, the brightest, most beautiful star emitted light so majestic, filling the night sky with luminance. Then, it flew along the other stars. With much amazement, I followed it, running with all my might, wondering where it may lead. I raised my arms, jumping as I ran, hoping to touch a bit of its silvery trail. I ran on and on, not knowing when or where to stop. However, my little legs were not able to go on much farther. With dismay, I stopped, looking into the distance as the star flew on.

“Goodbye, Star!” I shouted, bidding it goodbye.

When it completely disappeared, I decided to go home. Ate was going to cook us pork adobo for supper, and I needed to go back. It’s been a while since I’ve had meat into my system. I could already imagine the juices melting on my tongue by the time I’d take a bite off the pork. My mouth started to water, and my stomach started to grumble.

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I looked upon the path I was on, and I realized that I was lost. The road was less rocky, the rice field was too dry, and the trees didn’t look right.

“Where am I?” I asked myself.

I turned back, hoping that I’d return to my way home. My dainty feet trod on the dry, dusty road.

Farther and farther I went, the more lost and confused I was. I was beginning to panic, and I knew right there and then I was the sole human being in that place of emptiness. Tears started to creep from my eyes, and the sense of hopelessness soon overwhelmed me. I wanted a hand to hold on to. I wanted to feel safe and secure. Nanay, I thought to myself. Alas, she was not there. She had never been there, after all.

One February morning, we were tasked to have our Show and Tell in class. Teacher Rosie asked us to bring our own idea of a Valentine. Of course, at that ripe age, our immediate answer would be our parents – more specifically, our nanay’. One by one, my classmates introduced their nanays who they said were the best in the whole wide world. Tina said she had a great chef as a nanay who could cook magical cuisines with her magical hands. Jeffrey, on the other hand, had a cool policewoman nanay to save him from the evils of everyday life. Chito had a professor nanay who knew everything.

All of them had their own ideas of a “nanay.” Me? I can only imagine a cold, gray, marble slate in the middle of a grassy field. She was my nanay – boring, silent, and dead.

“Don’t be sad, Toto,” Ate told me. “Our Nanay is the best in the world. Unlike theirs, she’s everywhere, even when we sleep. She watches over us.”

I never understood Ate. She always tells me things are there even though they aren’t. Is my Ate crazy? This thought had crossed my mind for times I could never count.

She probably is, I continued to think. I got scared of that thought, thinking of the possible life I was going to have living with a crazy person.

I started to cry, drowning in the deep, dark lonely world I was in. I was helpless. I was small. I was weak. Who would find an insignificant boy like me, who only liked playing patintero and shooting stones with slingshots? I was no one special. My Nanay even had the nerve to leave me behind with a crazy, overimaginative sister.

“My, my, are you lost, my child?”

I ceased my moment of misery, and behold, a beautiful, glimmering being appeared in front of me. Her brightness overpowered the twinkling glory of the stars up above. Her light almost blinded me, but never did I look away. My wondering heart was filled with awe, and I was not able to speak.

She was far too wonderful that it was difficult to describe her majesty.

“It looks like you are,” her voice, smooth as velvet, soothed my sadness. “Come, let’s get you home.”

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She took my hand, and held it tightly as not to let me go. She was warm, but it was a good warmth. The smile that was etched on her beautiful face mesmerized my total being. She led me through a long, winding road, but for some reason, I felt safe. I felt secure. I felt loved. For the first time in my life, I felt magical… complete.

Finally, we reached our destination – a little nipa hut with a lamp lighting from the inside. The smell of pork adobo fumed that chilly, starry night, and again my hunger evolved into a whole new level of starvation. My crazy Ate was the best cook in the world, if you asked me. She always denies it, though.

“Here we are – our home,” the Starry Lady announced as we climbed the steps.

“Stay here,” I pleaded.

She giggled upon the thought, and planted a soft, precious kiss upon my forehead. I felt a tingling sensation running into my cheeks. A feeling of innocent embarrassment painted my plump, red face.

“Stay good, my son,” she told me. “I have always watched over you, and I always will.”

She pulled me onto her bosom, and I lay myself there. Everything felt numb, yet I felt comforted.

This moment – this exact same moment – is what I have been dreaming every night. The warmth, the comfort, the love – all of these visited me in the night. Invisible hands ruffling my curly hair, invisible lips kissing my lashes, and invisible arms holding me tightly – these are what I have always wished for.

This very moment, I was in that dream.

“’Nay?” A familiar voice endearingly called the lady holding me in her arms.

I placed my big, dark eyes upon her, examining her face and her form. She had the same tall nose Ate had. She had the same curly hair that I had. She had the same big eyes Ate and I had. Ate was right, she may most probably be Nanay – the only person I longed for my entire life.

“I love you both,” she said, whilst shooting back into the heavens. Ate and I tried to follow her, yet it was an impossible feat for mere human beings. She was there, all this time, in the dark firmament embellished with diamonds. Nanay was a diamond, the brightest of them all.

She gazed upon the starry night sky as she held her infant son for the last time. She knew she was to leave, no matter how hard she tried not to do so. Her daughter walked towards her, and held her frail body in her short arms.

“Nanay, don’t leave us,” her child begged.

“I promise you that, my dear,” she said weakly. “Though my body is soon to die, my soul shall rise to the heavens as one of the stars in the night. Remember, my child. I will always be there for you and your little brother, no matter what happens. When you are troubled, just look upon me during the night, and I shall come rescue you. This is my pledge.”

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Waking Nightmare Ron Adrian Dionaldo

Haunted.

That would have been a better answer.

“Why is a second laboratory being built?” I have asked Sir countless of times, and everytime he would joke about a poltergeist who looks like an old man with a shrunken head.

I was a fool not to believe him. That night, I learned the truth.

The incident began when Sir led his last class out to see the new laboratory. As his loyal work student, I waited in the old laboratory for their return. With Sir’s permission, my crush Kate and her friend Sheila stayed with me to work on their lab report.

Sheila woke me up around 6:55 pm. I did not realize that I had dozed off listening to their discussion. Kate gave me a shy smile before returning to her laptop. She asked a question, and Sheila answered after consulting her notes. I was disoriented, and for a moment, I considered returning to sleep…until a loud thump woke me up.

I looked behind me and saw a large moth flying haphazardly away from the window. The girls, startled at first, began giggling. I grinned at them and Kate caught my eye.

“Can you please check the model of the machine we used?”

I never knew how to describe it, but suddenly a chill ran through my spine and I felt a weight of foreboding settle on my shoulders. Her wish was simple. All I have to do is walk out the door behind the classroom and find the label on the machine. But at this time of the night, it doesn’t sound so appealing.

My hesitation was obvious. “He’s afraid,” said Sheila unhelpfully.

Afraid or not, Kate’s request should be done. In seconds, I found myself inside the laboratory checking the machine. It was cold inside and images of the old man swam in my head. What if Sir’s jokes were true? What if the lab really is haunted? The feeling of foreboding grew stronger until I could bear it no longer. I felt my hair rising for no reason, and the lights went out.

“Hell,” I muttered. I stood for a moment in front of the machine, waiting for the emergency lights to turn on. They did not, and immediately I knew something was amiss. I need to leave. Now. I turned on my heels and ran to the door. I was halfway when it happened.

I grabbed the nearest counter and ducked. I don’t know why, but suddenly I felt something sinister enter the lab. I looked at the door to the classroom and realized it was opening and closing on its own. Was it the wind?

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Photo

by

C h a l ce d o n S a 単 o r

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As if by answer, I heard a buzz behind me. I turned and watched in horror as the machine I just left lit up with no power. Then the lights were back and began to flicker.

Hell.

I bit my lip. So the poltergeist is true. I wanted to run, but suddenly my knees felt like jelly.

Still ducking, I reached up to the counter with my hands to pull myself up. My fingers touched water. I cursed. The faucets have turned on. I tried to look up but was blinded by the lights. I looked away, shifted my hand, and felt the cold metal of the sink. Another hand, thin and soft, covered my hand. I felt wrinkles touch my skin.

The blood froze in my arm and I found myself going numb, but I managed to see the shadow standing above me. With a loud cry, I yanked my hand away from the sink. I heard a snap and saw the arm clatter on the floor. With utmost terror I realized it was broken from the elbow. I screamed louder and ran to the classroom. I never saw the owner of the hand, and I’d rather not.

The classroom was empty and in chaos. I took a second to digest the clutter and realized the girls had escaped. I scrambled over upended chairs to the door leading out of the building. It was locked. I was locked in. What did I expect? The ghost will set me free? I screamed and forced the doorknob but it won’t budge. The lights began blinking, and a cold wind entered from the lab.

I found a hiding place inside the lower shelf of a cabinet. Call me craven, call me coward, but there was no time for me to choose another plan. Shaking with fear, I watched as the old man entered the room. I saw only his lower body part, legs and feet so thin that the skin clung shriveling on the bones. The feet lingered at the center of the room, and then walked towards me. I held my breath and swallowed, but the legs moved across my point of view. It took forever as I sat silent and unmoving, but finally the legs were gone. I sighed in relief. And suddenly they were back. I choked and waited for what seemed like another eternity. My heart pumped louder with every second, but still they did not move. Tears began to form in my eyes as I willed them to stay open, but still the legs remained.

“I know you’re there.”

I gagged. His voice was shrill and high, but it was more than that. It was a child’s voice. It was a child’s voice in the body of an old man.

Something crawled behind me. I tried not to move but saw a spider inside the cabinet. It was as big as my hand and has five legs. I did a double take. Then I realized what it was and screamed myself out of the cabinet.

The old man laughed a childish, evil laugh as I scrambled on the floor away from his severed arm—the arm I yanked out from his body. The hand crouched on its five fingers like a lion ready to pounce and trapped me in a corner. There was no blood. The flesh just ended on the elbow.

“It gets lonely here sometimes,” the man said in his childlike voice. “If you were to move to a new place, I don’t have anyone to play with.”

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It took all my courage to look away from the hand on the floor to the face of my tormentor.

I gasped. Sir said he had a shrunken head. Sir was wrong. The head was that of a child’s, placed on an old man’s body. And he was mockingly smiling at me. The sight almost drove me crazy, but I managed a comeback.

“To hell with you,” I said.

The smile faded instantly. “You are no fun. No fun at all.” He raised his other arm. The hand on the floor suddenly tensed. I had a feeling I knew what would happen.

I watched both hands warily, one on the floor and one on the body, and then, without warning, the old man snapped his fingers. I screamed as the severed hand lunged at me.

The fingers shook my shoulder.

Disoriented, I opened my eyes and saw Sheila. Behind her, Kate was working on her laptop. I glanced at my watch. It was 6:55pm.

It was a dream!

Realization surged through me and I couldn’t help but smile. The nightmare had been a literal nightmare after all. I started to chuckle in relief. In the blur of my vision blinded by tears of joy, I became aware of Kate asking a question, and Sheila answered after consulting her notes.

The relief I felt a moment ago disappeared in one second. I sat straight in my chair. Something felt familiar.

There was a loud thump behind me and I turned to see a large moth flying haphazardly away from the window. My heart began to pound. I slowly stood as if in a trance. If I were correct, the next incident would be—

“Can you please check the model of the machine we used?” Kate asked.

My throat went dry. I crumpled and remembered everything. The realization hit me hard.

“Out!” It was no more than a whimper, but the girls’ instantaneous silence told me they must have felt my fear. “Out!” I shouted much louder, and then finally found my courage. “Out! We need to get out of here!”

Startled, Kate started to gather her things in a frenzy. I went for my backpack hastily, but Sheila grabbed my arm. “What is it?” she asked.

I ignored her but she grabbed my shoulders and looked at me straight in the eyes. I knew they were wet with tears, but I did not feel ashamed. I only felt fear.

“Tell us what happened,” Sheila implored. Kate watched us warily.

I struggled to find my voice. When I spoke, it was shaking. “I had a dream. There was a polter—”

And then the lights went out.

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Swirling Lumina B rya n F r a n

I stare out of the window in my room. It faces the north to the town of Saint-Rémy laden with rolling hills and cypress trees. And I cannot help but be moved by the beauty when night strikes this place. The stars seem to have life of their own, whirling balls that entrance me amidst the blue backdrop. I have longed to paint the night sky; in my letters to friends and my brother Theo, I have stressed that this is possible if I use my imagination.

Let me describe myself first as I stare into the mirror to paint myself. Hair that wavers between red and yellow, sad hazel eyes, a Roman nose and sunken, yet cleanly shaven face. It is a self-portrait without my beard, for I wish to appear comely to my mother, to whom I will present this as a birthday gift. She worries for me, ever since I’ve moved to this quiet place in Arles.

And now I start painting my inspiration, doing it from my memory every day, since I have all the time without any distractions. The company here is a bit peculiar, yet bearable. I haven’t had any bouts of depression after moving here, and the countryside does wonders to my health. My palette is filled with thick brush strokes, full of blue and gray, as I see it every night. I then paint the village itself and its fields, and finally I add the trees. But I give full attention to the stars and the moon. This, I am sure, will be the greatest part in the picture. I make them seem intense, as if they were revolving and alive. My imagination runs free, and the colors vibrate. Everything is blue, and it brings the stars to the fore.

Months have passed by since I finished it. My companions inside the house and friendly visitors seemed drawn to it. Yet I feel unhappy about the painting. There is nothing good about it save the field of wheat and the quarry entrance; the lines seemed exaggerated and warped as those of old wood. Despite this, and a heavy crisis that followed, I decided to send to my brother my collection of paintings including the night painting. The Starry Night as they have started to call it. Bah! What a lousy name. Hopefully Theo would like it. The men who are packing it seemed surprised. It’s not normal for them to be brought to a sanitorium to get some things from a patient like me. But business and money are prevalent and they do the job. One of them approached me with caution in his demeanor, thinking I might do something...insane. He asked me to sign my name after writing the recipient and destination, which I did.

I wrote Vincent Van Gogh.

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I l l u s t r at i o n

by

Michael Angelo Fandagani

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T h e D r e a m s c a pe Paul Mackey Marfil

Once upon a half-remembered dream. . .

The terrain was rough. The sky, like a canvass filled with strokes of yellow and orange. It was not too cold, nor was it too hot. . .yet I shivered while tiny droplets of sweat dribbled from my forehead. Up above, I could see the stars encircling both the sun and moon. It was a strange sight, yet it didn’t matter to me.

There was nothing else that I could see, except maybe for the jagged mountain range surrounding the entire place. The silence was very deafening, and only the howling of the wind can momentarily break that immortal silence. It was a very gloomy place. But I was only passing by.

Someone else was waiting for me on the other side.

This is the Wasteland: a vast, desolate place in my Dreamscape. It is where all my wasted memories and useless thoughts are being disintegrated. But I’m not staying here. I’m searching for a cave, an opening at the foot of one of the mountains.

After moments of walking, I’ve finally found that cave. I entered it with no hesitation. The deeper I went inside, the darker it became, but I knew what I was doing. Until, finally, I have found her. She was sitting by the riverbank, dipping her hands in the water as it gently massaged her fingertips.

I called out her name. “Ariadne!”

She looked back, and once more I saw her spellbinding eyes staring at me. She smiled, and I felt my heart melt like butter.

She stood, went to me, and then said, “Why did it take you so long? I got worried.”

“I had a hard time searching for you, and I almost got lost in the Wasteland, and—“

“Like always,” she interrupted abruptly.

I looked at her with apologetic eyes, but still she replied with a chuckle.

I continued, “Well, at least I got my heart, and my heart will always be my compass, and it will always point to you.”

“You’ve said that already like a hundred times! But it’s okay, it still sounds lovely enough.” Her smile seemed to be eternal.

I took her hand, and we went to the prairie on the other side. In an instant, she let go of my hand and ran away, laughing. I chased her, and as I ran, I felt the grass gently caressing my feet. The sky above was a perfect blue, and the sun shone with just the perfect amount of heat and light.

I caught her, hugged her tight, and we both fell to the ground. Our laughter then turned to

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chuckles, and then we stopped, smiled, and just looked at each other’s eyes. I whispered to her ear.

“Why do I dream about you every night?

“I don’t know, really. It just so happens that we always see each other in your Dreamscape.”

I shrugged. “Well, doesn’t matter to me anymore. Ariadne, I don’t wanna wake up. I wanna stay here, in my Dreamscape, with you. . . forever.”

She looked away, her smile disappearing, and then suddenly she began to sob.

“Your reality is waiting for you. I am only a part of your dream. It’s time for you to wake up.”

In an instant, I was back in my room, lying on my bed and staring blankly at the ceiling. My earphones were still on, and Hans Zimmer’s Time was still playing. I just lay there, and I never moved. Somehow, I was still trying to remember the dream as the music filled my ears with nostalgia.

Somehow, I was still trying to remember Ariadne.

Ariadne was the girl whom I always see every night in my dreams. I don’t know why, but it all started back then when I first tried lucid dreaming, and it’s been like three months since I’ve first saw her in my Dreamscape. As far as I could remember, we were about the same height. Her white skin was like velvet, and her hair was a mixture of brown and black. She had eyes that could light up the night sky, and her smile was beyond everything I’ve ever seen. But I can’t fully remember her entire face. That’s where the dream sucks, and I don’t know why. But the emotion remained, even when I wake up. Somehow, I fell in love with her. I fell in love with someone that I can only see within a dream.

I took off my earphones, got out of bed, and then readied myself for school.

Nightfall came, and I was again ready to enter my Dreamscape. I lay on my bed. I put on my earphones, and again played Time. And then, everything went blank.

I stood at a cliff. The sky was still a perfect blue, and the waves below created a soothing melody as they crashed into the shore. Ariadne was also there, and she embraced me as the sun shone on her with just the perfect amount of illumination. At that moment, I felt the warmth of her body fusing with mine.

“Why are you so real?,” I asked.

“Well, when you’re in a dream, even the weirdest things become real. It’s only when you wake up that you’d realize that something was actually bizarre.”

“But you’re not strange, Ariadne. I could feel you, and you’re so real to me.”

She didn’t reply. Instead, she just hugged me even more.

“You know what, Ariadne? Since I first saw you in my Dreamscape, I’ve never kissed you yet. If only I could do it now.”

She let go of her embrace. “No, I think you shouldn’t do that.”

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“But. . .why?”

“The dream might collapse. What you’re feeling is real, but I’m not! None of these is real! Go back to reality!”

“No, Ariadne. This is my reality now! I’d rather stay here than wake up to a world where I can never see you!”

The ground began to shake. The perfect blue sky was replaced by thunder clouds and it rained heavily on us. The wind became stronger and stronger, and the waves below became more and more furious.

The dream was collapsing.

Amidst the thunder and lightning bolts, Ariadne shouted, “Death within a dream would bring you back to reality!”

The cliff collapsed, and Ariadne fell into the crashing waves. At that instant, I jumped and tried to reach for her. I was able to hold her hand, but it was already too late. We plunged into the raging waters and—

I was back in my room, crying and longing for Ariadne. I tried to dream again, but I couldn’t find her anymore. The following nights, she was still nowhere to be found in my Dreamscape. Being unable to find my love was the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced.

Ariadne was more than just a dream. And even if she was just a part of my subconscious, then the hell I care! She has become my reality! But now, I’ve lost her.

I stood at the airport lobby, waiting in line to get my plane ticket. It’s been two weeks since I’ve lost Ariadne, and the pain was still lingering in my heart. After purchasing my ticket, I went to a nearby coffee shop to buy myself a cup of coffee. I took a seat, stirred my beverage, drank it, and then looked around.

And then I saw this very familiar face. A woman, sitting at the other side of the coffee shop.

White skin, mesmerizing eyes, black-brown hair . . . and that smile.

Then I remembered Ariadne’s words: Death within a dream would bring you back to reality.

What could she possibly mean? I mean, come on! She died in my dream! But. . .wait. . .is this. . even possible?

A piece of paper flew out of the woman’s pocket. It must be something very important to her, so I stood up quickly, took it, and then returned it to her.

“Excuse me, miss, I think this is yours,” I stuttered.

“Oh, yeah, thanks.”

She stood up, smiled at me, and said,

“By the way, my name’s Ariadne.”

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twitterati The

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works

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@nyxkasolis Currently hating on Maroon 5’s Daylight. Reminds me of when Hemera comes. Must destroy that ugly ray of sunshine. #thetideofnyx #nnekasolis

@arridisamanila Counting the days ‘til I get home. Y U LEAVE HOME, SELF? #homesick #arridi @thepaultinourstars Sent my selfies to NASA. Gonna be with the stars soon. #andromedaskyline #paulmackeymarfil

@allamnadels @thepaultinourstars I wanna come with. Gotta catch that flight to the moon. Only way to get home to heaven. #themoonisawaytoourlostheavenhome #allanadelgado

@nnanaysbabyboy @allamnadels Send my regards to Nanay when you get there. I miss her :( #nanayspledge #nnekasolis

@nnekekemiss @nnanaysbabyboy Na-miss ko tuloy anak ko. Sana na-miss niya din ako :( #DH #nnekasolis

@aspermacandles @thepaultinourstars @allamnadels Can’t wait to see you both. Mother Night

awaits. PS: Don’t forget to bring a ready heart. *winkwink* #pleiadesuponthestones #allanadelgado

@kachingsleep I hate you for waking me from a good dream, you idiot. I needed that beauty sleep. #sleepingbeauty #katrinamabanes

@vincentfrangogh I know I have killer looks, but you don’t have to freak when you come get a package from me at the sanatorium, bud. #swirlinglumina #bryanfran

@mutyanggabi JWU. Duty in a while. Have to get ready na. #angmutya #rhicklarsalbay @mariavictoria @mutyanggabi Getting ready na din. Gonna put my mask on soon. Make-up galore and foundation day celebration. #amongstshadows #vicmorena

@anglelomo @mutyanggabi Can’t wait to trace the constellations on your skin again. Laters, baby! #skin #anglerfish

@imalittlerebelshortandstout @mutyanggabi @mariavictoria @anglelomo TGIF! Leggo party! #flashinglights #rebelrebel

@calmemaybe @mariavictoria You know what to do, baby. *suggestive grin* *winkwink* #nocturnalbliss #joniemarcalderon

@rosiecheeks Jack helped me face my fears tonight. We watched the stars after. No more monsters in my nightmares. #childhoodpromises #jezielvargas

@jezsoyouknow @rosiecheeks Fear is of the mind. Kill those monsters. You go, girlfriend! #nyctophobia #jezielvargas

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@kristinayt @rosiecheeks the dark is beautiful, sweetie. Don’t be scared. #thisnight #kritstinavictoriano

@polterguys @rosiecheeks @jezsoyouknow @kristinayt Hi *insert creepy smile here**winkwink* #wakingnightmare #ronadriandionaldo

@selfiequeenniyaze Just got the pictures printed. Ba’t naging butterfly si Yaze? Photoshop? Mukha tuloy akong selfie queen. -_- #tuwingalasonse #irishpaolinejurinario

@fishipmunabagopuso @selfiequeenniyaze Blink twice. Don’t always believe what you see. PS: He’s not human, sistaah! #deadstars #anglerfish

@ebementende Had the creepiest dream. I saw my name engraved on a gravestone. Scary, right?

Can’t wait to see my bride in a while. We’re getting married today. :) #alonesomegrave #ebenezer Hours later…

@irishyouwerehere Doctors declared my groom as D.O.D. We never even had our honeymoon. *sigh* I miss you @ebemetende :( #theonceforgotten #irishpaolinejurinario

@mikietakangmuli @irishyouwerehere I know how it feels, Hon. Lost my husband din a few months ago. Di rin kami nagka-anak :( #angpangatlongsusi #micaelaallengarcia

@jontblameme @irishyouwerehere Sorry po! Di mo po talaga mapigilan ang gabbi ng kamatayan ni @ebemetende. #gabingkamatayan #joniemarcalderon

@ellakolabot @irishyouwerehere Ha! Sucks for you! Nanghalit sa kag. Gaba! :p #samapaitmongapagkadula #micaellaallengarcia

@prettylittleallie @ellakolabot You die next, sweetie. *evil bloody grin* *winkwink* #prettyallie #deathseeker

@mackeyngyouloveme It was a pleasure meeting you in the flesh, @ariadnegrande. You’re a dream come true. #thedreamscape #paulmackeymarfil

@invinceible Lots of beautiful things in the night. Akin ang gabing to! :p #akinanggabi #vincepalcullo

@ashyouwish If you own the night, can I have the pretty fire tree? I just love that fire tree! #firewalkers #ashwednesday

@iomonasakin Baby, you’re a firework. The sparks we felt now faded into nothing. #fireworksinreverse #iodelacruz

@albaybay Would love to swim now. It seems that the sky and the sea are one because of the dark.

Wanna stroke the pretty moon. :) #midnightswim #rhicklarsalbay

@delgadogot @albaybay balang araw magiging isa talaga sila. Sa katapusan ng mundo gabi at tubig ang sasakop ng sanlibutan :) #dilimatdagat #allanadelgado

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centralecho the

Founded 1910

Editorial Board AY2014-2015

Rhick Lars Vladimer Albay Editor-in-Chief

Ron Adrian Dionaldo Dazen Dawn Lariza Associate Editors

Verna Roz Taperla Managing Editor

Almina Marie Gange Micaela Allen Garcia Charles Arthel Rey Filipino Editors

Paul Mackey Marfil

Katrina Joyce Mabanes Jeziel Vargas Feature Editors

News Editor

Patricia Meliz Labramonte Bryan Fran

Chalcedon Sa単or Photography Chief

Literary Editors

Jedrick Leighnoir Solinap Christian Sevilla

Michael Angelo Fandagani Allen Grace Tabi

Photojournalists

Digital Artists

Krystille Camille Bontuyan Rosanne Grace Castor Vic Morena Vivienne Songcayawon Lou Tagaro Irish Paoline Jurinario Aimee Unique Canonicato Staff Writers Julian Paul Querubin Ivana Javellana Cartoonists

Layout Editors

Prof. Esther Rose Romarate Prof. Rea Angelica Villeza Advisers

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C h a l ce d o n S a 単 o r

And in the morning they shook their pillows v i o l e n t l y, h o p i n g all the dreams they lost that night would tumble out