Lagaslasan 2022

Publication Statement

Lagaslasan 2022 is a literary folio made up of collective works of fiction, not presented as fact, but may have resemblance to reality.

In line with the theme, Divine Comedy: Inferno, the following literary pieces contain hints of sensitive topics related to the circle in which those pieces fall under.

The publication does not agree nor promote the acts depicted in the pieces. The folio intends to shed light and increase awareness to the various sensitive topics and societal issues implied in the literary narratives that may be happening in reality — such as corruption, domestic violence, abortion, and infidelity.

We encourage you to read the works with an open mind.

Thank you.

The Guardian Publication Lagaslasan Literary Folio 2021

Mary Belle A. Radam

Romieleth L. Espillardo

Lovelyn L. Mangampo Ryan Emmanuel M. Reyes John Paul E. Torrecampo Marjorie D. Tuno

Editors

Julius B. Dancalan

Erica Mae D. Vidal

Daren Samuel T. Tiongco Hannah A. Palosa

Francis Oliver Uy

Lemmy M. Delos Reyes

Daksh Neil T. Castillo

Jovelyn C. Mirandilla

John Lloyd Borromeo Arts and Design Team

The Guardian Publication is grateful to acknowledge the effort and hard work of the people behind this book – INFERNO. We are proud to showcase the talent, time, endeavor, and unorthodox creativity the members gave for this special issue. Moreover, we are thankful that you let us publish your works to exhibit the sublime ideas that embody your skills in creating a piece of literature.

Also, we are glad for the support and opportunity given by the Rizal Technological University community to release the latest volume of LAGASLASAN.

Mycah Andrea C. Tusi Head Editor

LAGASLASAN DIVINE COMEDY: INFERNO 9 CIRCLES OF HELL

FOREWORD

Do not get attached to worldly things and pursuits. Be in the world, but do

- Sathya Sai Baba

One’s life is composed of various experiences influenced by the societies in this world. During one’s stay on planet Earth, one is encouraged to travel the path of goodness. Because if you don’t, you will end up in hell.

What do you imagine when you hear the word hell? Fiery pits of flame. Scorching hot lava. Scalding smoke enough to burn you into ashes. Little did you know, the inferno is not that simple.

To know your punishment, assess your sins and mistakes. It is not the same for every action. There are different degrees that you must undergo.

What if you do not want to experience these extreme retributions? I guess you should read the tales inside to recognize the things that you should NEVER EVER DO, if you do not want to fall into the pits of hell.

Content warning

The following works contain, among other things, violence, rape, and suicide, which may trigger people who are sensitive to these topics. Viewers discretion is advised.

“

not let the world be in you.”

Through me you pass into the city of woe: Through me you pass into eternal pain: Through me among the people lost for aye. Justice the founder of my fabric moved: To rear me was the task of power divine, Supremest wisdom, and primeval love. Before me things create were none, save things Eternal, and eternal I shall endure. All hope abandon, ye who enter here.

INFERNO: THE 9 CIRCLES OF HELL

In a stack of cards, take a pick Trust the instinct of your fingers

As they rummage each card – quick! Don’t let your second thought lingers Whatever card you pull, lays your fate Driven by sinful desires may put you at stake

Upper Hell, Limbo, were those that led virtuous lives but were unsaved dwell.

Punishment: Unbaptized/virtuous pagans – struck with grief from a lack of god’s presence.

“For no matter virtuous your life is, If ye lack faith, You are sent into the abyss. Empty, dark, and desolate… Trapped without His presence –Suffering boundless and endless.”

The Limbo, the first layer of the upper hell, was spared for those who led virtuous lives but were unsaved. The unbaptized and virtuous pagans stood in a desolated place, waiting for nothing. They are damned to wait for eternity while struck with grief from a lack of god’s presence

Little Fingers, Little Feet

Little fingers of a little human –Clenching softly, loosening slowly. Little feet of a little angel To toddle towards you clumsily.

Two innocent eyes To look around in wonderment. A cute small mouth To laugh and smile in amusement

A thumping heart of a bundle of miracle To love you even when you’re out of reach. A tiny brain of a bundle of blessing To learn all the beautiful things you will teach.

Oh how I wish the day When I finally am held in your arms to come; The day when I hear and see The beautiful woman who is my mom.

But alas! That day never came. All that was there was excruciating pain! I would struggle if I could, but With my tiny frame, it would be in vain.

Little fingers of a little human –Desperately clawing for life. Little feet of a little angel –Kicking violently in the strife.

Two innocent eyes Looked around in fear. Where is this desolate place? Mom, why are you not here?

A thumping heart of a bundle of miracle That once beat in time with yours… Now pulsed in the rhythm of horror. Please take me back! I don’t want to be here anymore.

Writtewn by MYCAH ANDREA TUSI

Maraming benepisyo ang pagtakbo:

Maganda ‘tong pampalipas oras Pampatagal ng paghihintay Pangkalawang ng posas na hapit sa paghimlay

Sa paglayo ko, lumiliit ang ingaw ng ale, Isa na namang iyak ang babalot sa presinto. Ayos lang, hindi naman na ako kasali, Hindi ko na ‘yon kargo

Maganda rin ‘tong ehersisyo Bawat hakbang ay isang bawas ng timbang, ng dalahin, aba! Lumalawak ang espasyo Nauna na silang mapagod, hindi ko na kailangan mag-abang.

Kahit ilang metro pa ang takbuhin Paniguradong walang timbang na aalis sa mga bulsa nila Kaya’t di na ako takot habulin Hihingalin din naman sila

Hihilahin din naman sila Iba ang pwersa ng kawalang-selan, Walang-wala ang isinumpa Walang-wala ang ikinaila

Maganda nga rin ‘tong pampahaba ng buhay Bawat sentimetrong layo ko sa pulisya Ay layo ko rin sa kamatayan Ay layo ko rin sa bakal na hukay

Kung mahuli man, pipiliting kumalas sa kawit Sa natitirang rason na lang ako patuloy na kakapit Sa murang edad, bakit ko ba ‘to pasan-pasan?

Di ba’t hindi naman ako ang tunay na makasalanan?

Written by LOVELYN MANGAMPO

Image from iStockphoto

He Was that Guy

Written by RONA GERMANO

t never occurred to me that one day I’ll be asked this question, “What is the deepest and darkest mistake you’ve ever committed?” Guess I have made the worst decision to join this game of spinning the bottle.

The deafening silence enveloped me as I came to think about the question. I didn’t realize it took me such an ample time to answer what seemed just a cocky question. Their eyes were like telling me just skip the question, admit, and then dare on the other way instead.

Just before the man in the red shirt took the bottle by the throat, I began to speak as if I had never been given the chance to speak before.

“I just committed a mortal sin. The one included in the Ten Commandments,” I spoke.

They looked at me with shock. And I expected that one coming.

The very ample time I had for reflecting on the question made me think back to the time I was my most blatant self. I’d like to call it that way, for I have never come to realize the depth of my actions until it was time to decide between me and my future.

You know, for someone very outgoing but well-educated person, I didn’t imagine I was to surrender to this situation. At the very least, I had with me the determination I never thought I had.

One night as I was walking home from school, I was stopped by a man who I think is in his midthirties. As a usual and prompt response, I cared less and just walked again as if nothing just happened. When I felt like he was following me, I took the chance to go inside the nearby convenience store so I could really attest that he was indeed following me. As I was practically pretending to choose for something to buy, he stepped up in the front door and he had his eyes locked on me.

I know for sure that I had to remain calm so I could think clearly and not be taken away with panic. When I had the feeling that he was coming near me, I took my phone and pretended someone was calling me. When I was about to reach the phone, someone grabbed it from my hand. It was the strange guy who had been following me from the outside.

The first thing that came straight out of my mind was to shout. But to my luck, I lost my voice that very moment that he started dragging me by my uniform. It was also when my panic attacks started to get through me that I never had the courage to fight back and resist. God knows how much I wished for that time that someone may be able to notice I was in an emergency situation. Unfortunately, no one came to my rescue, no one had ever come to notice I was almost fading out. God, I wished that moment you kept them away from their phones. God, I wished I stayed a little late in the classroom.

But it was too late. I was made numb by how quickly the situation was unfolding.

Before I began asking questions, he gestured me a shush. We were somewhere in an abandoned street where I knew nobody would pass by. I knew by then I really was out of luck. Nobody will ever help me here. Nobody will ever hear my voice.

By the way, I hate the way he smelled. The cigarette smoke was all over his shirt. Most of all, I hate the way he looked at me. God, for crying out loud, he was smiling at me like crazy. It was when I also realized blood was all over my lower uniform. To my shock, I didn’t even notice that I was being dragged all this time with a sharp knife, which had sunk into my skin as it was pointed at my waist.

Tears started to fall from my weary eyes. My stupid tears betrayed me. I should’ve never shown him an ounce of my fear, I could’ve shown the other way around. I was dumb. I could’ve done better.

He opened his mouth and began to talk. I was not ready for what he said.

“You are such a very sexy lady. Every morning, when you prepare for school when you wear your uniform when you get down the stairs and walk out home. You are a damn hottie. I wish I had done this earlier.”

He had me crying very helplessly.

That is when I realized he was the guy whose apartment is right in front of mine. He was the guy who comes home from work wearing his security guard uniform. He was the guy I once thanked for helping me carry my deliveries to the second floor, where I was. He was the guy, whom the caretaker warned me about, saying that I should always close my window. He was the guy, whom everyone else in the apartment told me about because someone else might try to break in and steal. He was the guy who gave me the chills whenever he looked at me. He was the guy with a mother and a child with him when I saw them step out of the car one day. He was the guy a little man was calling dad. He was that guy watching me over his window. He was that guy.

All this time I thought I was just making it up when I felt someone was feasting his eyes on

all of the things I do when I am at my own apartment. I was right that I felt someone was trying to break into my house. All this time, my guts were right, but I never cared for them until today.

Heaven knows I resisted when he started playing his hands around my body. And the prick of the wound I had in my waist began to ache and it made me weaker. I asked him with all of my heart to stop this rubbish once and for all.

“Please stop. Please let me go. Please,” in-between difficulty of breaths and loud heartbeats, I demanded.

He kept doing his business until I just saw myself naked and blood is still coming out from my wound. This insanity has to stop.

Right then, I knew I had to think straight and be brave.

I managed to reach out the knife he had placed on his side and managed to stab him across his neck. It didn’t seem to hurt him, so I stabbed him again.

My guts were telling me to run right then. And so, with the strength I have left, I have come to stand up and began running away finally.

I didn’t care if I was naked. All I wanted was to get the hell out of here and ask for help. When I thought everything was over, and when I was internally celebrating finally, I could use some help, I was stabbed in the back with the same knife I used on him.

He wasn’t ready to let me go away. He didn’t come here to give up easily, he came here to finally own me.

The stab in my back made me spit blood from my mouth. He started manipulating me like I was a pig. He devoured me until he was satisfied. He didn’t stop until he came on me.

I was lifeless. I was losing blood. I was empty.

Everything that took place was not an illusion, or so you thought

Today, I am about to give birth. And it falls on October 7th of the year. If you ask, I have been pregnant for the past 7 months now.

After what had happened to me, I continued my study. I pretended like I was okay. I didn’t want my family back home to get disappointed. I was their last hope.

Since everybody from my class was seemingly noticing I have been an overeater the past few days, and I have been so moody, I have come to decide I needed to give up the child in me.

I never wanted this kid in the first place.

But for someone who was raised and born in a conservative family, deciding got me so long that I had to weigh things. I knew I needed to be firm for whatever decision I might come up with. The decision was final. I was ready to not give him the life he deserved.

It may sound very unlikely of me, but I have to stand on this side. What I only feel about everything is nothing but resentment and anguish.

This place was not comforting like that in the hospitals. I knew this could be another battle I am to face since abortion here is illegal. Regardless, I am ready.

A boy came out from me, crying. He was reaching out to his swollen head because of the medications I had to take so he could get out of me.

I should have had guilt the moment I saw him, only to feel nothing. More than anything, I was happy I was still alive.

Sooner, he ran out of breath. The midwife told me he was dead. After disposing of him inside the adult diapers, she told me to leave.

He died in infancy… unbaptized. Too young to have committed actual sins, but not having been freed from original sin.

Paglubog sa pagkalumbay

Maririnig kahit nasa malayo… Unti-unting tataas ang balahibo Kapag narinig ang paghingi ng saklolo Na nagdulot upang ang hangin ay mangatog

Ang malalalim na pagbuntong hininga Mula sa mga hindi naging malaya Sila ay wala nang magagawa Hindi na rin makakatanggap ng awa

Ang mga bumubuo dito Ay hindi kinilala si Kristo Hindi nakatanggap ng bautismo At napapaligiran ng usok

Hindi nakakaranas ng pisikal na sakit. Ang tanong sa pang araw-araw ay “bakit?” Habang-buhay na lungkot ang kapalit, Gayunman ay sinusubukan pa ring kumapit

Written by BLASE LAGUERTA

Omnipresent

I have my days, weeks, and years, To spend in fruitful ways. And yet I failed. I spent it on earthly things.

I lived in my own ways, My goal is to be the wealthiest. I don’t believe in God, But I’m good to mankind.

However, it’s not enough, There’s still lacking in my life, And now I found out, I wasn’t able to see God on the ground.

Being good was not enough, There’s gap without Christ, My soul will be forever in despair, As I failed to read the gospel.

Written by JAMILLE JANE DIPOL

I’m merely an unbaptized pagan, Searching for clue, I’m stuck here in Limbo, A place full of sorrow.

Mga Unang Hinatulan

Sa paglalakbay ng aking mga paa Napadpad sa lugar na ‘di kilala Mga naghihikahos ang nakasama Mga kaluluwang ‘di inakala

Mga pagano, sila rin ay hinatulan Dahil sa huwad na katotohanan Patuloy na pinaglalaban Hanggang sa huli, ‘di pa rin pinagsisihan

Nakasalubong ko rin, anghel kung tawagin Mga biktima ng kamusmusman Mundo ay maagang nilisan Mga anghel na ‘di nabasbasan

Sa ibayong di kalayuan ay naglayag Mga matalinong nilalang ay ‘di nakailag Ang pagtanggap ay kanilang nilabag Katotohanan ay sinilid sa isang pagpapanggap

Kaya’t silang mga hinatulan Isang hakbang man ang langit ay ‘di pagbubuksan Sila ay mananatili sa kanilang huling hantungan Walang tigil papasanin ang madilim na kaparusahan

Written by JENNICA MAXIAN

Upper Hell, the sins of incontinence, where the Lustful dwell.

Punishment: Lustful–blown about by the violent and endless wind.

“Your seeking of the Pleasure of the flesh Will throw you into the Unceasing and endless Storm of unforgiving wind, brutal; Escaping it is futile.”

The second circle of the upper hell, wherein the Lustful abides. To be blown away by the violent and endless wind; it is the consequence of their sins of incontinence. “Your seeking of the Pleasure of the flesh Will throw you into the Unceasing and endless Storm of unforgiving wind, brutal; Escaping it is futile.”

The second circle of the upper hell, wherein the Lustful abides. To be blown away by the violent and endless wind; it is the consequence of their sins of incontinence.

DAGITAB

Masidhing damdamin pilit tumatakas Nakakulong sa dibdib ‘di makaalpas Pintig ng puso ay hindi mapigilan ‘Di alintana kahit may masasaktan

Magkalayong panig iyong pinagtagpo Sa iyong kislap sila’y iyong binuyo Nabulag sa hubad na katotohanan Sinunod ang saglit na kaligayahan

Habang sumasayaw sa gitna ng apoy Nagliliyab kaluluwang nanaghoy Kapalit ang ligayang pinagsaluhan Ang mapait na hatol ng kamatayan

Written by JENNICA MAXIAN

Skin Allergy

Sa loob ng apat na sulok ng magarbong kwarto ni Stephen, maririnig ang ritmo ng masidhing pananasa nila ni Kate sa isa’t isa. Hanggang sa narating na nila ang kasukdulan at, napabuntong-hininga ang dalawa at humiga sila sa kama.

Agad ring kumuha ng isang sigarilyo ang lalaki sa katabing mesa at sinindihan niya ito gamit ang mamahaling lighter.

“That felt good, babe,” bulong ni Stephen sabay sa pagbuga ng usok sa kaniyang bibig.

“Of course, anything for you babe,” sagot ni Kate sabay ambang pagyakap kay Stephen.

Ngunit bago pa ito makayakap ay agad na itinulak ni Stephen ang braso ni Kate, na naging sanhi ng pag kunot ng noo ng babae.

“You know what Kate, we’re done, pack your things in five minutes and get the hell out of here or else...” pagkasabi ni Stephen ay inabot nito ang nakatagong camera sa bandang lamesa na ikinagulat ni Kate, sapagkat hindi niya alam na ini-record pala ni Stephen ang buong nangyari. Nag-alala si Kate dahil maaari itong gamiting pam-blackmail sa kaniya dahil kilala siyang mahinhin at ‘di makabasag pinggan. Hindi maaaring kumalat ang bidyo na iyon, saad sa isip ni Kate.

“What? You’re blackmailing me? And you are dumping me right now?” sigaw ni Kate sa inis.

“I don’t owe you an explanation Kate, the clock is ticking, it’s just three minutes away for people to know the REAL Kate,” ngumisi ito pagkatapos niya balaan ang babae.

Nangingilid man ang mga luha ni Kate ngunit pinilit niyang tumayo, magbihis, at umalis sa condo unit ni Stephen.

Para kay Stephen, ang mga babae ay pampalipas oras lang. Wala siyang pakialam sa mararamdaman ng mga babaeng napapaikot niya. Palibahasa’y may itsura, kaya naman ay palagi itong may nabibingwit at may naiuuwing babae linggo-linggo.

Para kay Stephen, ang mga babae ay parausan lang ng mga kamunduhang pagnanasa at pagtawag ng laman, isang pag-iisip ng misogynist. Pagkatapos niya makipagsiping ay wala na siyang pakay pa at palagi siyang nakakalusot dahil may hawak siyang bidyo sa kada babaeng nauuto niya.

Nang matapos itong mag-yosi ay tumayo siya at nagtungo sa banyo para maligo. Habang bumubuhos ang tubig sa kanyang katawan, kinuha niya ang sabon. Kinuskos niya ito sa napakadumi nitong katawan at balat, hanggang sa napansin niya na may isang pantal sa kaniyang ari, para bang butlig.

“It must be skin allergy or something, I don’t know, maybe it’ll be gone later,” sinabi niya sa kaniyang sarili. Napanatag siya dahil hindi naman na ito bago sa kaniya, sadyang sensitibo ang kaniyang yayamaning balat. Kaya’t kung anumang dumapo sa balat niya ay pinapantal na siya kaagad, ngunit nawawala naman ito maya-maya.

+++ Malalim na ang gabi at naisipan ni Stephen na manood ng Sex/Life, isang programa sa Netflix. Sa kalagitnaan ng kaniyang panonood ay nakaramdam siya ng kati sa kaniyang pagmamay-ari. Kinamot niya lamang ito, ngunit habang kamot siya nang kamot ay mas

Written by JUAN MARCELITO MAGO SORIANO

lalo pa itong kumakati.

Bumalikwas siya ng bangon at tinignan niya ito... biglang nanlaki ang mga mata ni Stephen nang makita niya na mas kumalat at mas lumawak ang mga pantal sa kaniyang ari, umabot na ito sa kaniyang singit.

Bawat pantal na iyon ay pulang-pula at hitik na hitik, sa sobrang dami nito ay halos masuka si Stephen sa kaniyang nakita. Naisip niya na pumunta sa emergency room ng malapit na ospital pero nagdalawang isip siya dahil sa hiya at hindi naman sobrang malubha ang kondisyon niya para pumunta pa sa emergency. Kaya naisipan niyang ipagpabukas na lang ang pagpunta sa doktor.

Uminom na lamang siya ng Cetirizine at ulit niyang hinugasan ng sabon at maligamgam na tubig ang kaniyang ari. Maya-maya’y nahiga na siya sa kama, makati pa rin ang singit niya. Hanggang sa hita ay nakaramdam na rin siya ng kati, kinamot niya ito nang kinamot, wala siyang pakialam kahit pa magsugat ito kakakamot dahil dito naiibsan ang kati sa mga pantal niya.

+++

Kinabukasan, nagising si Stephen, idinilat niya ang kaniyang mga mata at agad niyang ininda ang kaniyang katawan, hindi siya halos makagalaw. Kinuskos niya ang kaniyang mga mata nang mapansin niyang pati mga kamay niya ay may pantal na rin! At ramdam niya na meron na rin siya sa mukha. Ramdam niya ang halos pamamaga ng kaniyang pisngi, pati rin ang kanyang leeg, nang dahil sa mga pantal.

At nang hinawi niya ang kumot na nakabalot sa kaniyang katawan ay nanlaki ang kaniyang mga mata at napasigaw siya nang makita niya na pinuputakti ng sandamukal na ipis, alupihan, at uod ang buo niyang katawan at siya ring balot ng pantal saan mang sulok.

Walang humpay ang kaniyang paghihiyaw sa takot at pandidiri sa nakita, tumindig pa lalo ang kaniyang mga balahibo nang bigla dumilat ang bawat isa niyang pantal sa buong katawan, kumukurap-kurap.

Halos mabaliw si Stephen sa mga nakikita niya – siya ring gulong niya sa buong kama para umalis ang mga insekto ngunit ayaw siyang lubayan ng mga ito. Bumalikwas siya ng tayo at tumakbo siya patungong balkonahe na may sampung palapag ang taas... at agad siyang tumalon.

Duguan at bali-bali ang mga buto ni Stephen sa katawan na naging sanhi ng kaniyang pagkamatay. Nagkagulo at nakita ng mga tao ang walang saplot na katawan ni Stephen, ngunit ang katawan nito ay wala man lang bahid ni isang pantal.

Lipstick Jungle Pressure

She was a powerful woman who wanted to be on top of her field Every single day, she just didn’t want to be unconcealed Lipstick jungle as it may seem, but she’s one hell of a dauntless But not everyone knows her oddly specific fetish

Looks are indeed deceiving, she seemed innocent and made up Little did everyone know she likes to have things spiced up In her red room filled with harnesses and cuffs

There’s her safe space where she can let out satisfied huffs

She goes straight in there with no garments on She lets her concupiscent self take over down to the bones She found the hobby really satisfying that she never needed men This is her playpen, her felicity every now and then

The moment she holds quite a grip on a toy that got her hooked Oh how she can’t resist swaying harder, ‘till her eyes roll back at the last stroke In the latter, she found herself with all the toys she had before her eyes She couldn’t stop smiling, to her it was her prize

Self-satisfaction for her was like sealing a deal with a far-fetched client

Every step of the way is like subjecting to utmost compliance She greatly thinks she deserves to prize herself with pleasure To respite her beloved self from the lipstick jungle pressure

Written by RONA JANE GERMANO

PLEASURE IN TORMENTS

Noble ambitions — She knelt before the priest, Burst the complete indulgence of sins, Confessed the lusts,

He pulled the holy cross, Choked her with the shaft, “Swallow your pride; digest the catechism” While currently dying on thirst,

There is a salvation in hell, For how rapid she rolled her eyes, A god appeared, “Lamentations are actually moans.”

Written by JERICA SARTILLO

Heartless Desires

Their glances are just like the two souls that communicate. The sensation of their fingers that licked their flesh energizes their consciousness. Their hearts beat pitter-patter while gently embracing the warmth of their physique. The weather is freezing yet; their endearment is boiling as their delicate sweats kindle each other. The harmony of their soft clamor is evidence of their profound contentment.

Written by JAMILLE JANE D. DIPOL

He is Leander, a stunning man that flaunts his desires for a woman. Oops, don’t be fooled! Because behind those heartwarming touches are pretentious emotions. If his bed can talk, surely, it will complain in the evening’s endeavor in various faces.

For Leander, a day won’t last without the flesh of a woman. Women are his accessories and his pastime. I can’t recall the number of pregnant women hunting him, kneeling in front of him. No matter how much a woman loves him dearly, he still dumps them as to wangle his desires.

Until he found his imperishable match – a woman who is an enthusiast of enchanted spirits. She is Chelsy, a woman who accepted and waived everything for him. She’s willing to sacrifice her eminent career just to settle with him and yet, Leander has no plan to be with her – the only thing that he’s craving is Chelsy’s arousing body itself.

Until he realized that Chelsy is not appetizing anymore. Just like other women before, he dumped Chelsy once again - leaving her miserable while carrying a three month child in her bump. A poor woman even begged for his love for the sake of their child but Leander’s soulless heart is tougher than his conscience. Due to anger and grief, she mercilessly cursed Leander.

One night while hanging out with another woman, his body collapsed and his face fainted. His body is failing – he can’t move, he can’t shout, he can’t breathe and he can’t see. Women eventually left him as they found him useless.

Unconscious, he had a nightmare that he was stuck in an underworld rock where the strong force of winds are hunting him. He crawls, hides in a sharp formation of rock and yet the winds are much stronger to dump him to dangerous gravel. After the wind, a poor and restless man was cast into a perpetual storm. By the blow of strong winds accompanied by the frigid rain, his body was almost freezing to death. He shouted for help but no one cared for him.

Due to difficulty in breathing, Leander finally retained his consciousness. His heart panting hardly, his deep moan seeking for help and his tears fell in his eyes. But no one was there to save him. And this is where his life ends.

Seven-Year Itch

Too many people have told me that you’re not the one. Hearing so much nonsense and unnecessary noise from everyone, Yet I did not believe any of them ‘cause you are truly mine Since we thought that no one would cross our line.

In the seven years that you and I were always together, It never came to my mind that there’s another her, What’s the point of sharing my world with you? When you already allocated your world to someone new.

My heart is as heavy as a boulder on the mountain, Tears burst out and don’t know how to erase this stain.

After the devastation, you brought to my life, Now in despair, contemplating what’s missing in me as a wife?

Why am I still searching for the answers that have no questions? Why am I finding theories and experiments that have no researchers? Why do I have to hunt different individuals, not in existence? Why am I questioning my worth if I still have an essence?

Every day and night, I am always extremely drunk By your promises and wishes that was total junk. The efforts and sacrifices I made for you are unparalleled, But you just provide me with quarrels and feel uninterested.

Hopefully, after this heartache and feeling blue, Cries will be turned into something true, That a man can still be faithful and has virtue, Where no woman will feel she’s easy to undervalue

by CJ SEBASTIAN PINGAD

Written

Upper Hell, sins of incontinence, where the Gluttonous dwell Punishment: Gluttons-forced to lie on the ground in sewage as they are bombarded with cold rain, hail, and black snow, tormented by Cerberus.

“Dissatisfaction with fodder and feast, Transforms someone into a beast, Those are the overindulgent, What awaits them is a pool of torment, Wallow in a repugnant quagmire, In return for their insatiable desire.”

Upper Hell’s third circle is for the Gluttonous. Their overindulgence on the earthly realms will cause them to be punished by Cerberus in this circle. Gluttons are forced to lie on the ground in sewage as they are bombarded with cold rain, hail, and black snow.

Patay Gutom

Sa isang araw, isang beses kumain. Pinipilit na walang masayang na pagkain, sapagkat ang aking ina ang naghain, at naghanap ng bigas na maisasaing.

Lumaki sa hirap na nagtitipid. Singkwenta pesos lamang ang kita ni Inay Sapat para kaming dalawa’y makakain, Isang beses sa isang araw.

Hapunan, sa may bangketa nagkagulo, Si Mang Pedro lasing na naman, Nag-amok at iwinawasiwas ang kutsilyo, Sa mga kumpareng nangiinsulto.

Nagsigawan at nagtakbuhan ang mga tao. Saksak dito, saksak doon si Mang Pedro, Wala pake kung saan man ‘to tumutok. Mang Pedro! Ika’y nakasaksak ng tao!

‘Nay, nagugutom ka na ba? Kay tagal nang ‘di tayo magkasabay kumain. At ang ulam ay toyo at saging, masarap ihalo sa may tutong na kanin.

Isa na akong negosyante ngayon, ‘Nay! Mapili na ako, hindi na ako nakakakain, kapag hindi hotdog at spam ang nakahain. Lalo na kapag walang kapeng mamahalin.

Sa hapunan dinner date with my partners, Hindi pwedeng walang buffet. Lahat eat-all-you-can basta’t mamahalin, Samahan mo pa ng inuming nakakalasing.

Ito na ang buhay ko ngayon, Inay. Gusto na kitang makasama muli kumain. Ngunit ‘di ko na kayang kumain, Ng sunog na kanin, toyo, pati saging.

Hindi ko alam kung nasaan ka na. Bakit iniwan mo ‘kong gutom at uhaw? Sa pagmamahal at aruga ng isang magulang. Hindi ko na kayang maging patay gutom pa.

Written by RYAN EMMANUEL REYES Image from Depositphotos

BAKIT NAMAN SOBRA, MILAN?

Masarap. Malinamnam. Nakaaadik. Sa bawat segundo, minuto, oras, at panahon na iginugugol niya araw-araw, hindi maaaring mawala ang isang bagay na ito sa kahit anumang sitwasyon o selebrasyon na kanyang gagawin. Tunay nga namang napakahalaga nito lalo na’t dumaranas tayo ng matinding kakulangan sa ating pangangailangan. Ngunit tila iba yata ang kaniyang pagpapakahulugan sa kung paano ang tamang kilos para rito. Nakasasama nga ba ang sobra? Paano kung iyan ang kanyang kasiyahan? Mapipigilan mo pa kaya siya?

Milan Bustamante, 23 taong gulang mula sa lalawigan ng Biliran.

Bata pa lamang ay hindi na niya mapigilan ang labis na pagkain, anuman ang ibigay sa kanya. Kuwento ng kanyang mga magulang, sanggol pa lamang si Milan ay malakas na siya sa gatas at sa iba pang pagkain. Hindi nila sukat akalain na sa musmos niyang edad ay hindi na pangkaraniwan ang dami ng kanyang pagkain. Noong una, pinabayaan lang si Milan ng kanyang magulang na kumain dahil importante ito para sa isang bata. Gayunpaman, napansin nila na habang tumanda ang edad niya ay kasabay namang paglaki ng kanyang katawan bunsod sa sobrang pagkain. Iyon na ang simula ng pag-aalala at pagkatakot ng kanyang magulang dahil hindi na normal ang kanyang kinagisnan.

Sumapit ang ika-labing walong kaarawan ni Milan, itinuturing itong espesyal na selebrasyon para sa mga kakabaihang magdiriwang ng kanilang kaarawan. Kagaya ng dati, iba’t ibang pagkain at putahe ang inihanda sa lamesa, hindi lamang para sa kanya kung hindi para rin sa mga kamaganak at bisitang darating. Mababanaag sa mukha ni Milan ang kagalakan at katakaman matapos makita ang napakaraming handa para sa kanyang pagdiriwang. Hindi naman pwedeng sirain ang kanyang araw upang sabihin na maghinay-hinay sa pagkain, kung kaya’t ibinigay sa kaniya ng kanyang mga magulang ang kasiyahan na nararapat.

Lumipas ang oras sa nasabing selebrasyon, hindi naiwasan ng ilang bisita na mapansin ang kanyang sobrang kasibaan sa mga handa, gayundin ang kanyang katawan. Bagama’t nahihiya na ang kanyang magulang, wala silang nagawa kung hindi pabayaan lamang siya dahil maaari itong makasira sa pagdiriwang niya at maging sanhi pa ng kanyang pagkagalit. Sinubukan na lamang ng magulang ni Milan na ipaliwanag nang mabuti sa mga bisita’t kamag-anak kung bakit labis at tila hindi nakakain ng ilang araw ang dalaga kung makaubos ng plato sa kanyang handa. Masakit man para sa kanila subalit ayaw naman nilang masira ang araw ng kanilang anak.

Kinabukasan, marahang kinausap ng mga magulang si Milan tungkol sa kanyang pagkilos kahapon sa kanilang tahanan. Ipinaintindi nila nang maayos upang maunawaan ng dalaga ang kaniyang nakasanayan. Sa tagal ng kanilang pag-uusap, naging mitsa ito ng kanilang pagsasama. Hindi nagustuhan ni Milan na nakikialam ang ibang tao sa kanyang ginagawa lalo na’t hindi naman sila ang bumibili ng pagkaing kinakain niya. Sinambit niya na dati pa ay mahilig nang gumawa ng isyu ang kanyang mga kamag-anak at ilang bisita sa paraan ng kanyang pagkain. Inakala niya na magulang ang unang iintindi at tatanggap sa kung ano siya ngayon pero tila naging taliwas raw ang sitwasyon.

“Kayo ang magulang ko, pero kayo rin ang hindi marunong umintindi sa kung sino ako! Mas matimbang pa ang sasabihin ng iba kaysa sa anak niyo! Magulang ko ba talaga kayo?” pagkukwestiyon ni Milan.

Mas nahirapan at naging komplikado ang relasyon ni Milan sa kanyang magulang dahil sa labis niyang pagkain. Lumipas ang limang taon, mas naging agresibo at dumagdag ang naging adiksyon niya sa pagkain. Nakagugulat man subalit idinagdag niya sa kanyang listahan ng ‘pagkalabis’ ng alak. Ito ang naging takbuhan niya sa tuwing siya ay nakararamdam ng pagod.

Written by CJ SEBASTIAN PINGAD

Malakas ang kaniyang loob dahil alam niyang nasa wastong edad na siya at mayroon na ring trabaho. Parang nakasama pa nga sa kanya ang pagkakaroon ng hanap-buhay dahil kaya niyang bilhin ang anumang pagkain at alak sa kadahilanang may naibubulsa na siyang kita.

Ang sobrang katakawan ni Milan, maging sa pagkain man o alak ay nagdulot ng hindi magandang epekto sa kanyang katawan at buong buhay. Dahil sa desisyong pinili niya na maging alipin sa kanyang mga kagustuhan at bigyang kasiyahan ang sarili, maraming bagay ang nawala at patuloy na mawawala. Ilang tao na ang lumisan dahil sa kanyang pag-uugali at kahit mismo ang kanyang pamilya ay hindi na siya makontrol.

Sa patuloy na pag-inog ng mundo para sa bawat isa, kasabay nito ang kakulangan sa ating pangangailangan sa pagkain. Mapalad ang iba na mayroong nahahain sa hapagkainan ngunit hindi lahat ng tao ay may kakayahan at kayamanan na magdala ng pagkain sa mesa. Sa sitwasyon ni Milan, mapalad siya sa pagkakaroon ng biyaya subalit ang kanyang pang-aabuso rito ang hindi angkop. Hindi masamang kumain, walang pumipigil sa atin kung anong pagkain ang nais nating bilhin o kainin. Ang kailangan ni Milan ay isang malaking reyalisasyon, mapagtanto sana niya na nasa huli pa rin ang pagsisisi. Malayo’t matagal pa ang kanyang tatahakin sa buhay upang itama ang kamalian at tanggapin na may punto ang sinasabi ng kanyang magulang. Kahit paminsanminsan, matuto tayong magkaroon ng repleksyon sa ating buhay, sa mga nakalipas na taon na iba ang ating pamamaraan at perspektibo sa buhay.

Hindi maipagkakaila na nakasasama ang sobra, lalo na’t kapag inabuso ito. Minsan, may mga kasiyahan tayong hindi nakabubuti para sa atin. Ang kagalakan na ito sa ating sarili ay may katumbas na eksplanasyon na hindi natin maunawaan. Sana dumating ang araw na mas magkaroon tayo ng malalim at malawak na pananaw kung saan ito ang magbibigay oportunidad para sa panibagong bukas. Kaya’t marapat na sapat lamang, walang labis at walang kulang upang sa huli’y walang pagsisihan dahil ikaw, ang sarili mo ang may hawak ng kapalaran. Milan, hindi pa huli ang lahat.

Hoard more food!

Written by MYCAH ANDREA TUSI

Hoard and hoard those fine ingredients! Keep them in my storage. Just be obedient!

I stored too much that there’s not much left for the poor? Then they should have bought before I could procure.

Oh, how exciting it is to have a grand feast every night! Heavenly taste on my tongue Gives me such delight.

The prices shoot up because there’s not much left in the market? That’s not my problem now, is it? There’s still a lot in my pocket!

Hoard and hoard until you make sure that I have enough for the year. Stop with your rancor.

Embodiment of Excess

Written by MARILYN MANAS

Indulge in your carnal pleasures Absorb the rich taste from your plate with no measures. Disgust surrounds your form, no care Don’t stop at your first burp; need more to spare.

As soon as that morning gate opens, Shove in that scrumptious meal as a token. Eating lavishly grudging the timed consumption Having to lose oneself, is a sin of assumption.

Gather in bulk, obtain a hoard in excessive pursuit To appease thy selves and bring home the loot. Having to fulfill thy self, stripping off the needy Enjoying nonchalantly, having no pity.

When nothing feels sufficient, Left always wanting so much more to no end. An empty hole, a vessel needs to fill Leads only to misery but a feeling of thrill.

Gluttony is the true embodiment of excess, Never been able for you to suppress. Indulgence becoming so out of control, Sends you into self-destruction, your life being in toll.

Seek out help before it’s too late, now stop. Learn to know when things are already enough. With so much at stake, odds are not in your favor. Make changes now; gain a new lease on life, and worry no more.

Feast of the Gluttons

That’s the point of every sympathy if one possesses the ache of cavalry? Each sound thee hear is a blasting noise filled with fear

The screams of “I am full!” now changed into repentance of them fool. As the loud voice of the starved shall remain in silence on a pit where they are carved.

Take a glimpse of every soul passed by, each represents a creature living on a pigsty Overlooked by a beast named Cerberus, deep howling voice of hunger these selfish souls produced.

Whilst cold drops of rain creeps onto their skin and an overflowing pile of slush, shrieking voices of helpless souls serve as wrath made by their own sin.

In the land of the upper world, each mouth desired a savory dish. By the hands of the gluttonous is never-ending suffering; in hell, they must perish.

Written by JUSTINE ROSE GENERATO

The Repentance

I

woke up in a luminescent place – full of lights and decorated with white curtains. I found myself in a luminous glass frame surrounded by yellow and white radiant flowers. The place is blaring yet it’s solemn. I heard an indistinct clatter, they were laughing while the other side was whimpering. I gazed at my friends chatting while hoisting their hot coffee. I glanced at my mother; she was crying and sobbing endlessly. I wish to touch and comfort them, but I couldn’t, or else they would be frightened by my shivery touch.

I headed outside the house. Dreadfully, I found myself in an endless muddy pig pen – a disgusting place with a dreadful smell. The excrement of the pigs is scattered around, I can’t even walk peacefully because my feet are submerged in shallow mud. I tried to look for a peaceful place, but I couldn’t find any. I’m tired but I can’t endure resting in this sickly place. I was about to close my eyes hoping that I could escape from this filthy site. Suddenly, heavy rain accompanied by the striking snow bombarded the spot making the ground worse.

I’m sick of this kind of life; I’m breathing to suffer. How I wish that I can escape from this ghastly place and indulge in my abundant life on the ground once again. Seizing the savory meals in buffets no matter how expensive it is. Our dinner will not be complete without any desserts and one variety of viand definitely can’t satisfy our cravings. Even a pandemic can’t stop us. We’ve even hoarded rice, meats, and even alcoholic drinks to sustain us and sold the remaining stocks. No wonder I grow bigger and continuously gain bigger. Above all, I’m craving Friday night hangouts, dancing, partying, and drinking until I crawl on the floor. I’m indulged in worldly pleasures, the relief found in a bottle of tequila, the coolness brought by the smoke of cigarettes, and the comfort assured by the sip of party drugs.

My life today is far from what it was yesterday. And it became worse and worse every day. How I wish that I invested my time and money gaining plus points in heaven– helping the unprivileged, especially in this challenging moment. Maybe if I wasn’t selfish back then, I would not be here, suffering and seeking a peaceful place. Maybe now, I’m in the safest and most calming place where there’s no pain.

by JAMILLE JANE D. DIPOL

Written

Upper Hell, sins of incontinence, where the avarice and prodigal souls dwell.

Punishment: Hoarders-forced to force boulders to the center of the circle. Spenders-forced to force boulders back out of the center of the circle.

“Slow down the taking, honey!

For you might not like it at all When you get everything you fancy You might take the fall There you will be, in the fourths For nothing good comes with force”

The circle for greed is where the prodigal souls reside. Their desire for material gain came with the price of eternal pain. While hoarders force the boulders to the center of the circle, the spenders must force it back out– over and over again. It’s a never ending cycle.

Lilliana’s Lavish Life

Once upon a time, A baby girl was born, From a family without prime, She is their rose without a thorn.

A beautiful name they bestow, They called their child Lilliana. But little did they know, She’s going to be a poisonous Belladonna.

Her family loves her a lot. Despite being indigent, They gave her everything they got. Still, she is discontented.

“You said that I’m a princess!” Lilliana’s voice shrieked. Frowning upon a dress, That her mother made within a week.

It was a sign that they missed, She is now a spoiled brat. Materialism is her bliss, Luxury is what she sought.

She grew up with the realization, That she isn’t born with a golden spoon. Even with this information, Lilliana still coveted fancy ambitions.

Dashing with designer clothes, Wearing sparkly diamond earrings, Equipped with the latest model of iPhone, As if she’s someone of a rich bearing.

Her family is already full of struggles, But to cater to Lilliana’s desires, They take several jobs to juggle, Until they became dreary and tired.

These caused her parents, To weaken and fall ill. There’s no one to pay their rent, And the ballooning hospital bills.

Lilliana was the only person That can help her mother and father, But without any hesitation, She decides to abandon them.

“I’ll live by myself, for sure.” She doesn’t regard them as precious, Lilliana only wants their treasure. Indeed, she’s wickedly avaricious.

And there, she abruptly left Without seeing her parents even once. She never cried nor wept, No regrets, not even an ounce.

Lilliana enjoyed her lavish life, Attracted someone of her own kind. She married him and became his wife, Their lives are now intertwined.

But as they say, It’s not always a happy ending. Karma has a way, For Lilliana to taste her own medicine.

They also had a daughter, Both of them were joyous to meet her. Albeit the cheerful banter, She will soon begin to pester.

by ROMIELETH ESPILLARDO

Written

God

To what extent will a person choose God? Over power, fame, and wealth?

Will he, who has to make the decision, choose his God? Or decide to be the god, and submit himself to a terrible death.

If not God the Father, who does man obey the most Tangibles and intangibles that haunt like ghosts?

In today’s time where everything is done by everyone, Signifying the sin, even the forbidden has been done.

So, who does man obey?

Perceptions differ based on virtue But most choose to have material things to display In a mortal hall of humans, boastful and untrue.

Suppose a man chooses power over his God, To what extent will he be able to control all of his odds? Desires and desires again, will he be able to manage and contain?

With all this power; will he continue even if the price he should pay will be pain?

Written by ALLYSA MAXINE DE ASIS

Should a man choose fame over his God?

Can he endure all of its consequences, even if it is a massive façade?

A gap between him with nothing but despair And with God who once welcomed him in a paradise somewhere.

Wealth is a matter of impressions

Between people who care merely about possessions When to claim and how to attain Even if a man knows he will live in vain.

He, who desires to be a god or worship a different god Is being apparent in society, where everyone follows the trod.

To what extent have they prepared? Once they face the consequences of their avarice, in purgatory will they be squared?

Does man know that anyone can have desires As giant as wild forest fires? Does man know that these desires Would allow avarice, to their lives it would pry?

To what extent will a person choose God Over power, fame, and wealth? Will he choose to follow the blasphemous trod Does that lead to a place where they cannot even nod?

Should they remember that desiring too much is perilous That would lead them to a place where the atmosphere is vulturous

To a place where every soul is sorry For choosing earthly things and nothing but precious majesty.

Rapacity of Society

As the pandemic perpetually rises, the cases are climbing, More jobs are lost, more people are struggling, The economy is declining, our wallets are emptying, But why are politicians continuously ascending?

No satisfaction, no contentment, no soul, For the sake of their wealth, they will take all, No mercy, no pity, no dignity, Money obscured their visions and integrity.

Full of shame and greediness inside them, Their mind is polluted by ignorance to the problem, No heart for the people and humanity, Where there is nothing left even impunity.

Millions of individuals are experiencing hunger, All of them are feeling pain and anger. Yet this voracious whistle-stopper is just shrugging, Living their life in luxury while others are suffering.

Hell on the land is what I feel, Devil in the government is what I see, I heard so many promises and voices before, But now, you will never find their core.

“Never again” should and must be our mantra for a lifetime, In electing and choosing the right politicians this time, Where foolishness and exploitation have no place, Putting the people of the nation first, not disgrace.

Written by CJ SEBASTIAN PINGAD

Indiligens

Written by MYCAH ANDREA TUSI

e never met his father. His mother was raped; that’s how she got pregnant with him. Despite being innocent, seeing as he was the fruit of the traumatic experience his mother suffered from, none of his relatives cared for him. His mother was the only one to look after him… she loved him like any mother would adore her child. And he was satisfied with that – happy even. But then…

“I’m sorry, Lio. I’m so sorry. I know I don’t have much time left,” his mother gasped.

“No… NO! Please, don’t say that. Don’t talk like that! You’re gonna get through this!” Lio sobbed in between his cries.

“I wanted to give you more in life, my son. You deserved better,” tears began to roll down the side of his mother’s face. “Your father’s sin, is only his… You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t deserve all the suffering, indifference, and hostility my family inflicts on you.”

“I don’t care about what they think of me! It’s only you that matters.”

“I wish you would have more in life… so much more than what I gave you until now. I wish you the world, my beautiful boy.”

Then the Electrocardiogram became flat-lined.

Indilio Fajardo... Orphaned at the age of 13 when his mother died of stab wounds in a robbery. His heart was shattered to pieces. The only person illuminating his dim world passed away. After that, everything was a blur. All he remembers was him crying hysterically – clenching his chest as if it would make the pain more bearable, then passing out. He doesn’t know how everything transpired; how he got home, how they arranged the wake or the funeral. After he woke up, he just stared into oblivion all day, as if in shock. He was the same all four days of the wake… even until the funeral on the fifth day.

Nothing sinks in… until he was called to have a last look at his mother’s face before burying her in the cemetery. As he take one last long look at his mother’s pale, yet peaceful face, everything came crashing down on him. Tears began welling up and rolling down again, he choked on his sobs. The devastation is making his heart so heavy and constricted, resulting in him shaking uncontrollably. But no one comforted him. He stayed then even after the burial, just staring at her tombstone. He cried until he ran out of tears, and was wet from the rain that poured down after most of the funeral attendees left. Then he came home alone at midnight, feverish and shivering.

Ten years passed and now he has a college degree. His uncle became his guardian when he was orphaned as a minor – though only on paper so he can enroll in school. His mother’s relatives were still indifferent to him, but their hostility stopped after her death. They left him to his own devices but provided him with his basic needs like food, water, and clothing. Aside from the school allowance he receives from them, he earns a little money from the commission drawing services he offers his classmates when they have school projects. He also became a scholar when he was in college.

He got a decent job and was able to save up enough money to own a small business. He still visits his mother’s tomb every chance he gets… just like today. Sitting down on the grass, putting the flowers in front of the grave. “Hi, mom. Guess what? I already have my own business. It’s still small… but it’s a start,” he smiles sadly. “I wish you were here. I wish you would witness how I achieve all the things you wished for me.”

He reminisced about his mother’s last words and felt a cold breeze blow from behind. A white butterfly then fluttered towards the bouquet he brought. He was stunned for a moment, then smiled softly at the butterfly. “Yes, I will have much more, mother… Even if I can’t own the world, I will possess as much as I can. Just you wait.”

After a little while in his business’ success, he started to invest in the stock market and quit his job. He became a rich man with a lot of influence – people approach and plead for him to invest in their businesses. He rejects most of them and only entertains those with very high potential. Money flowed in and out of his bank account like water, but there is definitely more amount coming in. Ahh, money. He can buy almost anything with it.

The more you have, the more you can get. With many successful investments, he expanded his business and endeavored in politics. Now he had power. After tasting the sweet nectar of its benefits, he now can’t live without it. He realized that this is exactly what he needs to gain more.

More money… more power… more of the things his mother wanted to give her before her last breath… More of the world his mother wished for him to have. Because… he deserves it…

“Right, mom?”

Sa Kamay ng Sakim

indi pa nagpapakita ang araw ay nag-ayos na ako ng aking sarili – sinuot ang aking kulay puting pang-itaas at itim na pang-ibaba. Hinanda ko na rin ang aking mga lumang gwantes at hairnet sapagkat batid kong mapapasabak na naman ako sa mabigat at nakahahapong araw na ito. Madilim pa sa eskinitang dinadaanan ko noong ako’y lumisan. Tulog pa ang mga tao at tila ako ang unang sasalubong sa pagsikat ng araw. Habang binabagtas ko ang kalye sa amin, bigla kong kinuha ang mallit kong pitaka. Dumungaw ako sa loob nito at nakita kong kakarampot na barya na lamang ang natitira.

H

“Diyos ko po! Magkakasya pa kaya ito hanggang sa akinse? Ano na lamang ang aming kakainin sa mga darating na araw? Mabuti kung pahihiramin ako ng amo ko ng kahit kaunting halaga. Hay naku. Mukhang malabo iyon.”

Napabuntong hininga na lamang ako habang muling sinulyapan ang mamisong naiwan sa aking pitaka. Kaya’t imbes na sumakay ako sa pampasaherong jeep ay mas pinili ko na lamang na maglakad dahil batid kong mas malaki pa ang gagastusin ko sa araw-araw na pagsakay kumpara sa kakarampot kong sweldo na madalas ay binabawasan pa ng sakim kong amo.

Pagkarating na pagkarating ko sa pabrikang pinagtatrabahuhan ko ay tambak na mga kendi na naman ang kailangang gawin at isa-isang babalutin. Hindi ko lubos maisip na kung anong ikinalaki ng kumpanyang pinagtatrabahuhan ko ay siya namang liit ng kinikita ko. Lubos na kaawa-awa ang aming sitwasyon na tila ba ay nakakulong kami na pagsilbihan ang amo naming kahit kailan ay hindi nagpakita ng pagmamalasakit sa mga katulad naming manggagawa lamang.

“Kailangan niyong tapusin lahat ng ito, kung hindi ay bababaan ko ang sweldo niyo o ‘di kaya ay tatanggalin ko kayo! Bilisan niyo at ayaw ko ng mabagal kumilos!” ani ng amo kong nabubuhay lamang para isipin ang pansariling interes.

Walang nagawa ang lahat kung hindi sundin ang utos niya sapagkat ayaw naman naming makaltasan ang kakarampot na naming sweldo; O hindi kaya ay tuluyang mawalan ng trabaho. Hindi ko alam kung saan ako pupulutin kung mapatalsik man ako sa pabrikang pinapasukan ko.

Kaya’t kahit labag sa kalooban ko ay kailangan kong sundin ito, kinakailangan kong ipalit ang dignidad ko para sa tatlong daang maaari kong kitaan sa araw-araw. Pinag-igihan kong magbalot ng maraming kendi, ako na rin ang tumao sa paggawa nito nang sa gayon ay makita nilang nagsusumikap akong matapos ang aking trabaho. Kahit kapos sa pahinga at walang laman ang sikmura ay nagpatuloy ako sa pagbabanat ng buto para naman hindi ko danasin ang naging kapalaran ng mga kasamahan ko noon na pinaalis, matapos hindi magustuhan ng aming amo ang kanilang trabaho.

Kring.. kring.. Isang tawag mula sa aking kapatid ang nakapagpahinto sa akin sa pagtatrabaho.

“Ate, inatake na naman si Tatay ng sakit niya. Anong gagawin natin? Wala tayong pera.”

Halos huminto ang mundo sa nalaman ko dahil batid ko na wala kaming sapat na pera para masuportahan ang pagpapagamot ni Tatay. Wala na akong ibang maisip na paraan kung hindi manghiram sa aking amo kahit pa na malabong bibigyan niya ako ng kaunting halaga. Nilunok ko ang kahihiyan at saka lumapit sa kanya at naglakas loob na bumale ng kahit magkanong halaga.

“Magandang araw po, Ma’am! Maaari po bang makahiram ng kahit magkano, ibawas niyo na lang po ‘yon sa susunod kong sweldo. Lubos ko lang pong kailangan para po sa pagpapagamot ng aking ama,” wika ko na may halong panginginig at takot.

“Hindi ka pwedeng humiram ng pera, maliit na nga lang ang sahod mo mangungutang ka pa? Ano na lang sa tingin mo ang ibabayad mo sa akin? Sa iba ka na lamang manghiram, hindi kita matutulungan,” ako’y napanghinaan ng loob sa sambit ng aking amo.

Nagtungo ako ng pagamutan nang wala man lamang na bitbit kahit na ano, ang dala ko lamang ay ang mga luha sa mata ko at mabigat na hinanakit sa puso ko. Hindi ko lubos mawari na may mga tao pa lang ubod ng sakim, na pansariling kapakanan lamang ang kayang intindihin. Mga taong hindi man lamang marunong suotin ang sapatos ng iba at mas nananalaytay sa kanila ang pagiging makasarili at kawalan ng simpatya sa kapwa. Marahil totoo nga na ang pagiging sakim ang siyang naghahati sa pagitan ng mahirap at may pribilehiyo, siya ring maaaring bumawi sa buhay ng kahit sino.

Written by MARJORIE TUNO

No Gold More Precious than Humanity

Shaped in dust Breathe into lust Gifted in prudence Frail in conscience

That is humanity! Created so ambitiously Lived in ambiguity Crashed in egocentricity

Bounded by injustices Beaten the powerless Prevailed the selfishness Stumbled as avariciousness

When will those be filled, those empty jars? Yearning for everything in the stars Violence engraves the scars Sadness fetched by seculars

No gold outshines humanity

Who hoards, loses vanity In a world of idiocy Material thing destroys harmony.

In a place, they called alas Nobody can skip even if they used an alias Help can’t locate them in an atlas The castigation of Plutus will never be biased Brethren reflect before chances perish In this world, all things diminish Love and sympathy you should nourish That is all you can cherish

Written by JENNICA MAXIAN

Upper Hell, sins of incontinence, where the Wrathful and Sullen dwell, the City of Dis.

Punishment: The Wrathful engage in combat with one another on the surface of the river Styx, and the Sullen are rushed to the bottom of the river Styx to choke and struggle in the mire.

Vision turning red, Gritting the teeth hard; Clenching fists until it bled, Your palms forever marred. Drowning and choking amidst the conflicts At the bottom of the river of Styx.

The sullen and wrathful dwell in the fifth circle. The gloom and anger echoes along the river Styx as the wrathful combats one another on the surface and the sullen choke and struggle in the mire on the bottom.

Fortress of the Crown

Written by MYCAH ANDREA TUSI

A glorious fortified castle, once built to protect and defend. Now wrecked and betrayed, Taken advantage of in the end.

Feeling oppressed By all the injustices, Now armed and prepped In towers and even in its crevices.

Crumbled walls from the fury Now fortified once more. Ready to fight back, Merciless, unlike before.

Fighting for every log, every stone –Exploding with the will of the stronghold. Gritting, clenching, and biting down, The face of resentment, lo and behold!

Cannons are ready to fire on cue, Never gonna sit down and just swallow. Not going to take the blame again, The fortress is not that shallow.

The trembling crown grapples for itself, Rage burning in its heart. Being the victim, the pitiful –In this war, it will no longer play the part.

Ang Gusto Ko Lang

Wala akong tinig, Madalas pang hibang sa saliw, Ang mga ilusyon ay madalas –Madalas itugma sa pagkabaliw.

Naisip ko na ring gumuhit, Yung may isa lamang tinta, Dahil bulag ako sa kulay, Ang alam ko lamang ay pula.

Mahilig akong umibig, Mauuhaw, sasaya, at tatahimik, Gawain kong magmasid, At makinig sa mga desperadong tinig.

Pumutol ng litid, Bumali ng mga pangako, Makuha ang nais O di kaya’y magpaiyak.

Dahil kung gaano sila katahimik, Ganoon din kaingay ang mga buto sa pagkabali, Pipira-pirasuhin ang mga laman. Waring baboy sa pino ng pagkagiling.

Nais kong sila’y magmakaawa, Kung paano nila ako nilagutan ng dangal. Ganoon din dapat ako maghayag ng angil. Pumatay, at kumatay, ang gusto ko lang!

Written by JERICA SARTILLO

Pagtanggap

by CJ SEBASTIAN PINGAD

a ‘di kalayuan, isang tahanan ang mayroong malaking pamilya. Mahirap man ang kanilang buhay, hindi ito naging hadlang sa mag-asawa para bigyan ng magandang kinabukasan ang kanilang limang anak.

Ang mag-asawa ay sina Aurora at Ernesto, na mayroong limang anak na sina Angelo, Maricar, Zenaida, Danilo, at Isabela. Dalawa rito ay nagmula sa ibang ina na dating kinakasama ni Ernesto, sina Angelo at Maricar, at ang natitirang tatlo naman ay nanggaling sa kanyang asawa sa kasalukuyan na si Aurora. Buhat ng pandemya, mas maraming problema ang pinagdaanan ng kanilang pamilya na magiging mitsa ng kanilang pagsasama dahil nasa iisang bubong lang sila nakatira.

Isang araw, dumating si Ernesto mula sa kanyang trabaho na may dalang pasalubong para sa limang anak. Naisipan ng kanilang tatay na bilhan sila ng munting pagkain kahit hindi naman espesyal ang araw. Mababanaag sa mga mukha ng kanyang anak ang kasiyahan nang makita nitong may hawak na supot na ibibigay sa kanila.

“Ano ‘yan, Pa? Para sa’min ba ‘yang dala mo?” sambit ng panganay na si Angelo.

“Nako mukhang sa atin nga. Tama ba, Pa?” sagot ng pangatlong anak na si Zenaida.

“Ang dami niyo namang tanong. Titignan rin naman natin ‘yan kung anong laman eh. Dami niyong sinasabi!” pagalit na sabi ni Danilo.

Tila nag-aagawan pa sila upang tingnan kung ano ang laman ng supot, wala silang ideya kung ito ba ay laruan, damit, gamit, o pagkain kaya’t ang kasabikan para makita ang nangingibabaw sa kanilang mga mata at pati na rin sa loob ng tahanan maliban kay Danilo at sa kanyang ina na si Aurora.

“Himala may dala ka para sa mga anak mo?” biglang sabi ng kanilang galit na ina habang naninigarilyo at tila nakainom pa. Napailing na lamang si Ernesto nang marinig niya ito kay Aurora. Parang nasasanay na siya na laging galit ang salubong ng kanyang asawa.

Kahit anong gawin ng ama sa kanyang mga anak, hindi pa rin maiaalis sa kanyang asawa ngayon ang patuloy at walang katapusang galit dahil dalawa rito ay hindi naman nagmula sa kanyang sinapupunan. Hindi pa rin magawa ni Aurora na pahupain ang poot na kanyang nararamdaman sa itinuturing niyang anak. Malaki pa rin ang itinanim niyang pagitan kung kaya’t hindi niya matanggap nang lubusan ang dalawang anak ng kanyang asawa ngayon. Pakiramdam niya ay dagdag hirap at gastusin lamang sa pamilya ang mga ito lalo na’t may pandemya kung saan hirap makahanap ng pagkakakitaan.

Written

Nang mabuksan at ipinakita ito ng tatay nila, nagulat ang lahat dahil mayroon itong limang supot sa loob – nangangahulugang ang bawat isa sa kanila ay makatatanggap para hindi magkaroon ng alitan at inggitan. Kahit na kapos sa salapi ang ama, ginawa pa rin niya ang bagay na ito na makapagpapasaya sa kanyang mga anak at asawa. Bumili siya ng limang sorbetes para sa mga anak nila at may kasamang malaking tsitsirya.

“Ito lang pala ‘yng dala. Akala ko naman kung ano,” pahayag ni Zenaida.

“Hala ice cream! Salamat, Pa!” masayahing wika ng kanilang bunsong kapatid na si Isabela. Subalit ang pagkamuhi ng ina ay nanatiling umiiral sa loob ng tahanan.

“Kailan kaya matatapos ang galit ng ina at patuloy nang yakapin ang naging anak ng ama sa ibang tao?”

Kinabukasan, naisip ng ama na bigyan rin ng munting regalo ang kanyang asawa. Iniisip niya na baka nagagalit ito dahil wala siyang natanggap kahapon mula sa kanya. Baka ito na rin ang tanging paraan para mapagaan at matanggap na ng ina ang kanyang dalawang anak.

Nagbabakasakaling magiging maayos na ang lahat sa paraang gagawin niya at pagsusumikap na magtrabaho para buhayin ang pamilya.

Pag-uwi niya mula sa trabaho, malaking ngiti ang isinalubong niya sa kanyang asawa kahit na nakataas ang isang kilay nito at galit na naman. Bumili siya ng isang bagong damit para kay Aurora.

Agad naman niya itong tinignan at sinabing, “Ano ‘to? Damit? Anong gagawin ko diyan sa damit? Eh hindi ko naman mapagkakakitaan ‘yan eh. At wala akong sinabing bilhan mo ako, baka isumbat pa ‘yan ng anak mo sa’kin. Akin na nga!” pagalit na sabi ni Aurora subalit tinanggap pa rin niya ang damit na ibinili ni Ernesto.

Pagpasok ng ama sa pintuan, tila may naririnig siyang panaghoy mula sa loob ng kanilang bahay. Nakita niyang umiiyak si Maricar at may tinatakpan sa braso.

Kumaripas siya ng takbo at agad tinanong kung ano ang nangyari. Ikinuwento niya kay Ernesto ang nangyaring insidente dahil kay Aurora. Ayon kay Maricar, hindi umano nagustuhan ng ina ang kanyang itinimplang kape kaya’t naitapon ito sa braso niya. Bagong kulo ang tubig mula sa takure kaya kitang-kita ang lapnos na natamo ni Maricar sa kanyang braso. Lumabas si Ernesto upang kausapin si Aurora.

“Ano ‘tong sinabi sa’kin ni Maricar na tinapunan mo raw siya ng kape sa braso? Bakit naman gano’n? Kung hindi

mo gusto ‘yong kape, sana pinagsabihan mo na lang, hindi ‘yong ibubuhos mo sa bata ‘yong galit mo,” sabi ni Ernesto habang nanginginig sa galit.

“Eh tatanga-tanga kasi ‘yang anak mo na si Maricar eh. Simpleng pagtimpla ng kape, hindi maiayos. Ilang taon na ba tayong nagsasama at bakit hindi niya pa rin makuha yung tamang timpla? Sa susunod, turuan mo ‘yang magaling mong anak na magtimpla. Kung hindi lang tulog si Zenaida eh siya ang pagtitimplahin ko,” sagot naman ni Aurora sa kanyang asawa.

“Makaalis nga sandali, puro perwisyo at inis lang nakukuha ko dito sa bahay! Tabi, pupunta muna ako sa kumare ko!”

Umalis si Aurora patungo sa kanyang kaibigan upang mapawi ang kanyang galit sa bahay. Samantala, naghanap ng paraan si Ernesto upang magamot ang hapdi na nararamdaman ni Maricar. Nangutang na naman siya ng pambayad nito sa kapitbahay dahil hindi na rin kinakaya ni Maricar ang sakit sa braso. Pagkatapos makautang at makabili ng gamot, sinabihan niya nang marahan ang kanyang anak, “Maricar, sa susunod, bago ka magtimpla ng kape sa mama mo ay tikman mo muna. Alam mo naman parang kape rin ‘yan, laging mainit at nakapapaso kaya ikaw nalang ang mag-adjust.”

“Pa, hanggang kailan ba kami magiging ganito sa paningin ni Mama? Alam ko naman na hindi siya ‘yong tunay naming ina pero ang tingin namin sa kanya ay parang ina na rin namin. Ilang taon na tayo nagsasama pero hindi pa rin nagbabago si Mama sa’tin, palaging galit at ayaw sa amin. Pati nga sila Zenaida at Danilo, laging mainit ang ulo sa’min, si Isabela lang ang mabait,” naluluhang sambit ni Maricar sa kanyang ama.

“Hayaan mo na, lilipas din ito. Magdasal lang tayo na sana dumating ang araw na walang galit at poot ang maramdaman ng nanay niyo sa inyo. Sige na, magpapahinga na ako. Sana bukas magaling na ‘yan,” sabay niyakap ni Ernesto ang kanyang anak.

Patuloy na umaasa si Ernesto na balang araw ay matanggap na ni Aurora sina Angelo at Maricar nang buong-buo at iisang pamilya. Patuloy pa rin ang kanyang pagkayod sa trabaho kahit na minsan ay hindi sumasapat sa pang-araw-araw na pangangailangan ang gastusin bunsod na walang trabaho ang kanyang asawa.

Patuloy pa rin ang paghiling niya sa itaas na sana ay guminhawa na ang kanilang buhay at higit sa lahat, matanggap ni Aurora ang kanyang anak mula sa dating kinakasama.

Your Majesty

Written by JOHN PAUL TORRECAMPO

Oh hear, how the story begins Of the King who swore to avenge sins But with his glory and fame, Turmoil and turbulence came.

Listen to how his name is spoken across Describe to me how it is met with scoffs Hear his supremacy on the table Tell me how it is filled with squabbles.

Now, exhale all these preferences And be guided with impartial adherences To the truth about his adventure A mishap that turnved into a culture.

He swept the ballot, being the pilot Drove the plane, gave it no thought All that made him dazed Was met with luxurious taste.

Nothing could stop him from the throne His eyes, lips, ears, and chilling tone Provides a signal of faith and fear Muting the chirps, howls, and cheers.

His orders were captivating Boldness and mightiness of the King Left his subjects awed and speechless Leading to a series of unrest.

From then, he was unheard of and sick Disappeared from the eyes of the public Retaining the courage to face the day Leaving the Kingdom wrecked and dismayed.

Failing his pledge to avenge the sins Finding himself added to its limbs Wrath exiled him from his Kingdom As it avenged the sins of his crooked wisdom.

Time is ever consistent in its speed Yet history keeps reminding us to heed The relentless pattern of actions Seeking a formidable redemption.

Oh hear, how the story continues Of the King who managed to keep residues But with their collapse and shame, Cry and clamor cannot surely be tamed.

The Wrath of the Angst

Written by JUSTINE ROSE GENERATO

As I wander the streets of the dark, I notice the shadow from the walls embarked Held a tight grip on the knife I am holding looking at the watch to find my next victim.

Minutes passed and I’m getting bored A girl from nowhere appeared looking discomfort I walked near her and asked what happened She said nothing that made my eyes blacken.

I don’t keep track of where I stab All I know is I’m satisfied, I’m sure of that. The girl kept on crying for help I kept the violence, waiting for her death.

I was laughing and said, “Go, die!” And be with your so-called God!” Her voice stopped and I heard sirens of police cars coming Then stabbed myself to face my ending.

Next thing I knew I’m in a dark place and can’t move I looked and saw a blistering pool of blood I scream but no voice comes out of my mouth.

Getting out was tortuous From a body of branch, and a scorching sand It may seem so dangerous Crying for help but there was no helping hand.

In the whirlwind of the inferno was where I am Scorching fire wrapped around me I didn’t want to be here, I didn’t plan But a crime committed, for it, I must be punished for a deadly sin of murder, suicide, and blasphemy.

Whitey

“Hello, Whitey,” bati ni Paopao sa alagang aso ng kaniyang pamilya. Umupo si Paopao sa sofa at saka niya naman ito kinarga at ikinalong sa kaniyang mga hita. Nilalaro niya ito, hinaharot, gaya ng palagi niyang ginagawa dahil sa mahal niya si Whitey. Sa katunayan ay pinakapaborito niya ito sa tatlong aso nila sa kanilang tahanan. Ang dalawa pa ay sina Browny at Blackie.

Ngunit noong araw na iyon ay medyo matamlay si Whitey, malamlam ang mga mata at hindi malikot ang buntot, nakababa lamang ito. Hindi iyon pansin ni Paopao kaya’t patuloy pa rin siya sa paglambing at paglaro sa aso – hanggang sa kinagat siya sa kaniyang kanang hita.

Napasigaw at nagulat si Paopao sa pagkagat ni Whitey, naihagis niya ito palayo at saka naman tumakbo palayo ang aso. Bumaon ang mga ngipin ni Whitey sa balat ng bata kaya nagdugo ito nang kaunti ngunit hindi rin ito kalaliman. Nasaktan si Paopao, hindi lamang sa pisikal, kung hindi pati emosyonal.

Nilinis niya agad ang sugat at kiniskisan niya ito ng bawang. Habang naglilinis ay naiisip niya kung paanong si Whitey ang pinakamalambing at pinakamabait na aso sa kaniya, kumpara kina Browney at Blackie na malayo, mailap, at mahirap paamuhin kaya hindi niya malaro o malambing ang mga ito. Kaya’t abot-abot ang kaniyang pagkadismaya sa pagkagat sa kaniya ng pinakapaborito niyang aso.

Habang nililinis ang sugat ay mahigpit ang kaniyang pagkagat sa pagitan ng kaniyang ibabang labi para malabanan ang hapdi ng kaniyang sugat. Unang beses niya lamang ito naranasan. Wala ang kaniyang mga magulang sa bahay dahil busy sila sa kani-kanilang trabaho.

Bigla na lamang kumislap ang inis sa kaniyang puso at tuluyan nang nawalan ng pasensya. Parang bigla na lamang nandilim ang kaniyang paningin, wala siyang nararamdaman bukod sa galit.

Walang pag-aatubili ay binitawan niya ang kaniyang hawak na bawang na ikunuskos niya sa kaniyang sugat. Pumaroon siya sa kusina at dinampot ang pinakamatulis at pinakamalaking kutsilyo. Habang hawak ito’y nanlilisik ang kaniyang mga mata at determinadong hanapin ang kaniyang paboring aso.

“Whitey? tsu-tsu-tsu,” patuloy niyang pagtawag sa aso. Lumabas siya sa bakuran at doon niya nakita si Whitey. Tinawag niya ito ngunit hindi lumapit ang aso. Lalong nahulog ang bata sa hukay ng pagkamuhi, mabilis siyang lumakad patungo kay Whitey at agad niya itong sinaksak sa leeg. Hinugot niya ang kutsilyo at sinaksak ulit… hinugot at itinarak nang paulit-ulit hanggang sa mabawian ng buhay si Whitey.

Ngumiti si Paopao, para bang nabuhayan ang kaniyang katawan, at ang mga itinatagong madidilim na katauhan niya, na ngayo’y puno na ng dugo ang mukha at katawan. Maya-maya’y lumakad siya patungo sa loob ng bahay, para bang hindi niya kontrol ang mga paa niya pero patuloy lang siya sa paglakad.

Nakita niya Blackie sa palikuran, parang may bumubulong sa kaniyang tainga na gawin niya ang iniisip niya, ngumisi si Paopao at agad niyang sinaksak sa leeg si Blackie, sumirit ang dugo nito sa paligid at agad itong binawian ng buhay. Napapikit ang bata at bigla na lang napahalakhak sa kaniyang nagawa, tuwang-tuwa.

Habang humahalakhak ay bigla niyang narinig ang kahol ng aso, si Browney, galit na galit at gusto siyang kagatin. Tumakbo si Paopao patungo sa hayop para saksakin ngunit naunahan siya nitong kagatin sa braso. Napasigaw ang bata ngunit nagawa niya pa ring

Written by JUANITO MARCELITO MAGO SORIANO

saksakin ang aso sa tiyan at tuluyan niyang hiniwa ng buo hanggang sa lumuwa ang laman loob ng aso na agad namatay.

Namangha si Paopao sa kaniyang nagawa kaya naisipan niyang chop-chop-pin ang bawat parte ng katawan ni Browney. Mula sa mga paa at ulo. Binalikan niya rin si Blackie para putulin ang ulo nito, at gumawi rin siya sa bakuran at kinuha ang ulo ni Whitey. Binuksan niya rin ang tiyan ng puting aso at doon niya napag-alaman na buntis pala ito, namataan niya ang mga tutang hindi pa buo sa matres nito.

Agad siyang tumayo at kumuha ng alambre at tumungo sa kakahuyang parte ng likod ng bahay nila na malapit na rin ng gubat habang dala rin ang tatlong ulo ng aso.

Humarap siya sa puno at sinimulang tuhugin ang bawat ulo sa alambreng dala ng bata at agad niya itong isinampay sa mga sanga ng puno, tinitigan niya nang mabuti ang mga putol na ulo ng mga aso at bigla na lamang siyang humalakhak nang pagkalakas-lakas... at bigla siyang tumigil sa pagtawa... at saka siya nawalan ng malay.

+++

“Anak? Gising ka na? Nilalagnat ka, uminom ka na ng gamot,” ani ng ina ni Paopao.

Idinilat ni Paopao ang kaniyang mga mata, ramdam ang sakit ng kaniyang katawan lalo na ang mga sugat na kagat. Hindi na nag-atubili pang magpaliwanag si Paopao sa ina dahil ramdam niya ang pagod at walang siyang lakas na magsalita. Ininom niya ang gamot na inabot ng kaniyang ina at bumalik sa paghiga.

Maya-maya’y napansin niyang nakangisi ang kaniyang ina at bigla na lamang humagikhik nang walang dahilan. Bigla siyang kinabahan at napaupo mula sa pagkakahiga.

“Mamamatay ka!” sigaw ng kaniyang ina.

Nanlaki ang kaniyang mga mata at nasaksihan ang di kapani-paniwala. Nag-ibang anyo ang kaniyang ina at naging si Whitey ito, ngunit duguan at maraming saksak sa katawan. At bigla na lang may kumagat sa magkabilang paa ng bata. Nang tignan ay nakilala niya ang mga aso, si Browney at Blackie.

Napasigaw siya sa kirot at takot na nararamdaman. Agad siyang hinila ng tatlong aso pababa at palabas ng bahay, habang kagat-kagat ay hinila siya ng tatlong aso sa isang puno, doon ay kinagat-kagat si Paopao nang paulit-ulit, walang kalaban-laban ang bata. Kinagat siya sa leeg, mga braso, hita, at tiyan.

Maya-maya’y nakadilat na lamang siya at hindi na makagalaw habang pinapapak siya ng tatlong aso, nakita niya ang paborito niyang aso na si Whitey at hinihila ang braso niyang malapit nang maputol. Nang tuluyan nang humiwalay ang kanyang braso, lumapit ang puting aso sa kaniyang mukha. Wala siyang nagawa nang kinagat siya nito sa mukha at agad nang namatay.

+++

Kinabukasan ay dumating na rin sa wakas ang mga magulang ni Paopao mula sa trabaho. Wala ang anak nila sa bahay kaya agad siyang hinanap. Hinanap nila sa buong bahay hanggang sa napadpad sila sa kakahuyan, malayo pa lang ay naamoy na nila ang nakasusulasok na amoy, tumabok sila at nakita nila ang kanilang anak... nakahiga ang katawan sa lupa habang ang ulo nito ay nakasukbit din sa alambre at nakasabit sa sanga ng puno katabi ang tatlong ulo ng mga alaga nilang aso.

Nether Hell, Sins of Violence, City of Dis, where the Heretics dwell Punishment: Heretics-locked in burning stone coffins, the damned souls’ inability to see the present, and only the future.

“Do you think you are faithful?

...That your every action is graceful?

Praying for the things related to your lusts, praising statues that are made of glass. Your actions and beliefs are not aligned. Heresy of the religious mankind.”

The Nether Hell’s first layer is the City of Dis inhabited by the Heretics. They are punished by being locked in burning stone coffins. These damned souls’ are unable to see the present, only the future.

Cavalcante de’ Cavalcanti

(Paternal Damnation)

Written by BLASE LAGUERTA

I rose in the middle of their dialogue Scanned the place with longing Only for it to get shattered When he was not with him So I asked, “Where is my son?” “Why is he not with you?”

In which he answered, “I didn’t come here because of myself. The one who’s waiting led me here, possibly the one your Guido held in disdain.”

It struck me like lightning, It’s how I ended up at this place, My punishment – for I didn’t believe in Him, And he didn’t either.

Instead of electrifying my veins, It left me all fizzled out “Held? He is not alive?”

I looked at him for answers, But it was already present His eyes, mouth, and body They’re saying the same thing. He held back.

This is how I died once more.

Thy Freedom upon Us

Written by MARY BELLE RADAM

Consciousness crawls, breath grows deeper Igniting friction between skin and rope, the girl winces Pair of eyes dominates all stares surrounding her Irises turn black holes from lingering fume under her nose

Standing so motionless below her, felt disbelief If it’s still her sister behind the familiar face In the state of feebleness, she watches As the sister walks forward holding a torch

Oh Divine, a new believer of Your will Longing arms await from a family of Yours As she surrenders her eternity to serve With the blood of another, just as where your miracle began

The crowd hums in harmony with the girl’s scream As the flame places inches away from her stomach Flesh melting like wax, moist enough for the wooden edge To break in, tracing Divine’s glorious lines

Sister cooing at the sorrow that the girl cries While mass soothes along like an accompaniment Then flames brushed against her feet, dancing their way up Burning traces of senses to her skin, strength leaving her body

The girl began to dissolve into a billowing grey smoke Replacing the crowd’s voice that occupies the sky once shrieks fade Minty herb greets her lips as the sister embraces the worn cloak Different arms rest on her, their warmth defines the abstract of home

Hereserio

TUNO

“Serio, magsisimula na ang misa!”

Dali-dali akong kumaripas patungo sa altar upang kunin ang mga gamit na kailangan sa misa. Isa akong sakristan, at mula noong musmos pa lamang ako ay nagsisilbi na ako sa simbahan na ito. Malaki ang utang na loob ko sa tahanang ito at mga tao rito sapagkat inaruga nila ako, matapos umanong iwan ako ng aking ina sa labas ng simbahan.

Nag-umpisa na nga ang misa at maraming mananampalataya ang dumalo.

Kitang-kitang mula sa aking pwesto malapit sa altar, ang iba’t ibang mukha ng mga nagsisimba. Ngunit kapansin-pansin ang mga taong nasa unang hanay, sa palagay ko ay mayayaman sila dahil na rin magagara ang kanilang mga kasuotan. Habang gumagala ang paningin ko, bigla kong natanaw ang mga taong nasa labas ng simbahan. Gula-gulanit ang kanilang suot. Ang nakapagtataka lamang ay kung bakit nasa pinto lamang sila gayong malawak pa naman sa loob ng simbahan at maraming mauupuan.

“Bakit kaya nasa labas lamang sila at hindi pinapapasok?” pag-uusisa ko kay Basilio na kapwa ko sakristan.

“Hindi ko alam. Siguro dahil sa suot nilang hindi maayos, baka manggulo lang sila rito. Saka baka mapagalitan sila ni Padre Greg,” ani ni Basilio.

“Ha? Bakit naman? ‘Di ba dapat pantay-pantay lang lahat, walang mahirap, walang mayaman. Papasukin na lang kaya natin sila?” pag-aaya ko sa kanya.

Natapos na ang misa at isa-isang naglabasan ang mga taong dumalo. Sinundan ko si Padre Greg na patungo sa unang hanay ng upuan. Ngumiti siya sa mga tao roon at binati naman siya pabalik.

“Magandang umaga po, Padre Greg,” pagbati ng isang kagalang-galang na ginoo na nasa 40 ang edad.

“Padre, tanggapin niyo ho itong donasyon ng pamilya namin para sa simbahan bilang pasasalamat sa Panginoon.”

“Maraming salamat sa inyo! Makakaasa kayong mapupunta sa mga taong nangangailangan ito,” lubos na pasasalamat ni Padre sa natanggap na malaking halaga mula sa marangyang pamilya.

Namangha ako sa kabutihang taglay ni Ginoong Mendoza dahil nagbigay muli siya ng malaking donasyon sa simbahan. Nagtataka tuloy ako kung saan iyon gagamitin sapagkat wala naman akong nasaksihang programa na inilunsad sa simbahan noong mga nakaraang araw.

“Padre, ang bait po ni Ginoong Mendoza dahil lagi po siyang nagbibigay ng donasyon. Saan po pala natin gagamitin ‘yong pera?” sambit ko kay Padre Greg.

“Serio, wala tayong ibibigay na tulong. Para lamang iyon sa simbahan,” tutol ni Padre.

“Pero ‘di ba po sinabi niyo na gagamitin natin ‘yon sa pagtulong?”

“Pumasok ka na sa silid mo, bata. ‘Wag ka nang mang-usisa.”

Hindi ko na maintindihan ang mga sinambit ni Padre, batid ko ay tutulong kami ngunit tila nagbago ang isip niya. Malaking palaisipan ang nabuo sa akin kaya’t sinundan ko si Padre. Buong buhay ko ay hindi pa ako nagtutungo sa gusaling tinutuluyan ng mga pari. Sabi kasi sa akin ni Madre Lea ay huwag na huwag akong magtutungo roon dahil ipinagbabawal.

Palihim kong binaybay ang daan patungo sa gusali na ‘yon. Hindi ko maipaliwanag ang nararamdaman ko… para bang may nakatatakot na multo rito dahil tumatayo ang balahibo ko. May nakita akong silid na marahang nakabukas, sa aking pagkausisa ay dumungaw ako mula rito.

“Sino ka? Anong ginagawa mo rito?” halos mapahiyaw ako sa gulat dahil may babaeng nagsalita sa aking likod. Sa aking pakiwari ay nasa 35 na ang kaniyang edad, nakabalot ang kaniyang katawan ng mahabang damit. Sa kabila noon ay kapansin-pansin ang maamo niyang mukha.

“Ahh ehhh. Napadaan lang po ako,” may halong kabang pagtugon ko.

Written by MARJORIE

“Selya! Selya! Nasaan ka ba?” sigaw ng lalaking pamilyar ang boses.

“Sige na, bata. Umalis ka na.”

Nagtago ako sa ilalim ng mesa para makita ko kung kaninong tinig nagmula iyon. Ngunit, halos mahulog ang aking panga sa aking nakita, si Padre Greg pala ang lalaking ‘yon, kitang-kita ko sa mata niya ang galit.

“Tama na po, Padre. ‘Wag niyo na po akong sasaktan,” pagmamakaawa ng babaeng nakausap ko kanina na nagngangalang Selya.

“Wala akong pakialam! Pagsilbihan mo ako dahil akin ka lang, Selya. Naiintindihan mo ba?,” sigaw ni Padre at bigla niyang hinigit ang braso ng kaawa-awang babae.

Hindi ako makapaniwala sa nasaksihan ng mga mata ko. Kaya’t simula noon ay napadalas ang pagpuslit ko patungo sa gusali na iyon. Nais kong makausap si Aleng Selya, gusto ko siyang matulungan na tumakas kay Padre Greg.

Nagtungo muli ako sa silid na natagpuan kong nakabukas kahapon, nagulat ako nang makita ko doon si Aling Selya. Punong-puno ng pasa ang katawan niya, at doon ko napagtanto kung bakit balot-balot siya ng mahabang tela.

“Bata, tulungan mo akong makaalis dito. Hindi ko na kaya, gusto ko nang makalaya.”

Sa puntong iyon ay malinaw na ang lahat sa aking isip na masamang tao si Padre Greg. Nalaman ko na matagal na niyang inaabuso si Aling Selya, ikinulong niya ito sa mahabang panahon at ginawang alila.

Kaya’t hindi na ako nagdalawang isip na ilayo si Aling Selya sa lugar na iyon. Dahil na rin sa lahat ng mga nabatid kong kalupitan na ginawa ni Padre Greg ay napagdesisyunan ko nang umalis sa simbahan at kalimutan ang pagiging isang sakristan.

Buong buhay ko ay nabuhay ako sa malaking kasinungalingan, kung sino pa ang taong lubos na tinitingala at iginagalang ko ay isa pa lang masamang tao na umaabuso sa karapatan ng mga tao. Kung sino itong nagpapalaganap ng salita ng Diyos ay siya pa itong tumataliwas sa mga aral nito.

Simula ng araw na iyon ay tinalikuran ko na ang simbahan, hindi na ako naniniwala sa mga aral at nakasaad sa banal na kasulatan. Dahil napagtanto kong wala itong kabuluhan sapagkat hindi ito isinasabuhay ng mga taong nagsisilbi sa simbahan gaya ni Padre Greg. Sa igting ng aking paglihis sa aking paniniwala ay bumuo ako ng grupo na kasama kong magpapatumba sa simbahan at magsiwalat ng kanilang mga lihim.

Nang sumapit ang takipsilim ay nagtungo ako kasama ang aking kapanalig sa tapat ng kapilya. Doon ay naglabas kami ng pag-alma sa korapsyon at pang-aabusong nagaganap sa loob ng simbahan.

“Mga kurap at mapang-abuso!” sigaw ko at ng aking mga kasama.

“Ang tahanan ng Diyos ay naging tahanan ng mga sakim at masasamang tao,” nagtagumpay ang aming plano dahil maraming tao ang nakarining ng aming hinaing at napukaw ang atensyon ng mga tao sa simbahan lalo na si Padre Greg.

“Magaling, Serio! Isang dating sakristan at mananampalataya ng simbahan ay siya nang manunuligsa. Dapat palang tawagin ka na naming Hereserio!” galit na pahiwatig ng Padre.

“Kayo ho ang gumawa nito, Padre! Marami kayong inabusong tao at marami kayong ibinulsang halaga ng pera. Kaya’t nararapat lamang na walang maniwala sa relihiyon niyo dahil kayo mismo ay hindi sumusunod.”

Lumipas ang ilang taon, simula nang mapagdesisyunan kong wakasan na ang koneksyon ko sa mga relihiyon at mamuhay nang walang sinusunod na paniniwala at doktrina. Nang magka-anak ako ay wala ni isa sa kanila ang dinala ko sa simbahan at pinabinyagan. Lumaki rin sila nang hindi nagkukumpisal sa kahit kaninong pari. At, gaya ko ay wala na rin silang kinikilalang doktrina. Ngunit, hindi ko ipinagkait sa kanila na maniwala sa Diyos. Mayroon mang mali sa bawat relihiyon ngunit kailanman ay batid kong hindi pagkakamali ang pananalig sa Diyos.

Innocent Witches

Written by MYCAH ANDREA TUSI

Where is the so-called ‘Holy’ and ‘Savior’ rummaging in this cruel world? Why was there no justice, no hero even when you’re being battered and hurled?

Framed and forsaken just because I was a bit different. But no one sided with me even though they know I was innocent.

Does teaching about the Doctrine make you so complacent? Even when you accuse the guiltless from your assumptions, so-called ‘judgments’?

Our contrast to the common is considered a blight to nature. To admit and be freed, or deny and be hanged in the future.

Paranoia of the supernatural, the misdirected religious fervor, valuing repentance over truth, suspicious of any unnatural behavior.

You called me a witch, a heretic, and forced me to confess, To speak of a new innocent name that you will suppress.

The Cultured People

“Anya, what is your dream in life?” a question that Mother asked me when I was still an innocent child.

“Mother, I want to build a family like ours. I want to be like you and I want to marry someone like Father,” I promptly replied.

“That’s right, my dear. Always keep in mind that we are one of the cultured people,” Mother said.

This conversation has always been embedded in my mind. With that, I have set my one and only dream in life: to build a family that is similar to what I grew up with. My family is God-fearing, loving, and caring.

My family is God-fearing.

Mother and Father taught me to obey the Lord at all costs. Every night, my mother would read me the scriptures before I sleep. This is for me to be reminded of the things that I should do and also the forbidden ones. In this way, I wouldn’t do any sinful mistakes. Every Sunday, we diligently go to the church and pray to the Lord.

My family is loving.

“Your father and I love you so much, my dear. We want to protect you from the sinister things of the outside world,” Mother said.

I was never allowed to go outside the school. Mother told me that these places are full of temptations. She said that only worldly people are in outside schools. I realized that life as one of the cultured people is quite tough. I only grasped this thought when I was in my teenage years. Being trapped inside our home for several years, curiosity finally hit me.

Every week, I would always see Father reading a bunch of papers. They are so huge that they could cover his face. And every time he would see me, he would instantly crumple these papers and toss them in the fireplace to burn.

“These papers are the bearer of ominous happenings in the outside world. As the central figure of this family, I need to be informed of the wicked things outside so I can protect you and your mother from them,” Father explained to me.

One time, even before Father had the chance to read these papers, I sneaked through our front door to retrieve them. I was confused when I saw the contents. It wasn’t all about ominous things. There’s also positive stuff in it. Why would Father disallow me from seeing these?

As I looked back, I felt a cold and stinging stare that pierced through me. It was Father.

My family is caring.

Father grabbed me in the arm. It was really tight and hurtful; enough for it to leave a very red palm mark caused by the force of his hand. I was helplessly dragged into the basement. This place, I have never been here before. It was dark, dusty, and scary. Father held a rope and mercilessly tied me to a chair. He seized a knife and carved a cross on my left palm. As blood sheds from my hand, tears also endlessly roll down my face.

“You know how much I care for you, my daughter. This will help you reflect on your actions. Every time you look at your palm, you’ll surely remember that you should never ever disobey the Lord again,” he uttered as he left me in the gloomy room.

I stayed in the basement without any water or food. They freed me after a day and went on with our lives as if nothing has happened.

I was frightened and exhausted. But above all, I was extremely baffled by my father’s actions. Is this really what God wanted? Do I really deserve to be punished like this? It was an awakening moment; I knew that something was wrong. Since then, I never attempted to do anything rash again. I know that the time will come when I can escape.

Written by ROMIELETH ESPILLARDO

It was my 20th birthday. A ritual was set by our Church to officially bestow the Lord’s blessing. We were riding our car on the way to the church when I uttered these words, “Mother… Father… I don’t think I can do this.”

“Anya, what are you saying?” my mother said with her trembling voice.

“I don’t want this. Please just let me live a normal life,” I answered.

“Stop this nonsense now, Anya. Remember that we are one of the cultured people. This is not how you should behave in the Lord’s eyes,” Father furiously said.

“No! I’d rather be an uncultured swine than belong to this culture that you have!” I shrieked. It’s now or never. I don’t care whether I die or survive. I opened the door of our running car and jumped out of it. I can hear the hysterical scream of my mother from a distance. Surprisingly, I still felt my arms and legs intact and ready to dash. I never knew I could be as swift as this. It’s as if my body was longing for this moment. Like a bird that flew from its cage, I am finally free. I do not know where my feet will take me to. All I know is that I am no longer one of the cultured people. I will run, for as long as I can, and never look back again.

The Heresy of Science

Written by MYCAH ANDREA TUSI

Blindly following and believing something, That is just not for me. I find it hard to trust without proof, I need answers to my curiosity.

Is it a crime that I seek answers, The truth about the world we are living in? Is it a crime to trust what I see? Can observing around me be considered a sin?

No matter how I pondered, It still doesn’t add up. How can you believe that the Earth is the center? You’ll see the answer if you just look up.

If you take enough time to really observe the celestial bodies, calculate the orbit of those tiny lights. Opening your mind will give you more ease.

But no matter how I plea for you to let me be, you still sought to root me out, for the Inquisition to “take care” of me.

Persecuted for heresy, for a knowledge you believe is a mistake. Battered black and blue, and finally burned at stake.

Nether Hell, sins of Violence, Phlegethon, Wood of suicides, Abominable Sand, the great barrier and waterfall. Punishment;

Ring One: Violent against their neighbors: the souls forced to swim in a boiling stream of blood Ring Two: the violent against themselves: suicides-transformed into thorny trees that are ripped apart by Harpies and unable to be reunited with their bodies.

Ring three: The violent against God: blasphemers/sodomites/usurers-condemned to a desert of blazing sand with the constant rain of fire:

“Through your bloodlust, you hold an iron full of rust. With full emotion, without hesitation, violence occurs… This is the beginning of your curse.”

The circle of Violence is a place for those who committed violence against their neighbors, against themselves, and against God. The cursed souls are either forced to swim in a boiling stream of blood, turned into thorny trees that are ripped apart by Harpies, or condemned to a desert of blazing sand with the constant rain of fire.

Silab

Written by BLASE LAGUERTA

Wala nang ibang malalanghap At wala nang ibang yayakap Kun’di ang amoy na hinaharap Na kailanma’y hindi nanaisin na malasap

Dito matatagpuan Ang lugar na kung saan Haharapin ang kahihinatnan Sa mga naging kasalanan

Nahahati ito sa tatlo Una, mga mamamatay tao Pangalawa, mga buhay na piniling ihinto Panghuli, sa Diyos ay walang respeto

Sino ang mag-aakala Na ang dugo kung saan nagmula Ang buhay na inilikha Ay magiging dahilan ng pagdurusa

Nakaabang ang mga pana Kung susubukang umahon sa sakuna Sa ilog na nababahiran ng kulay pula Tiyak ang mata ay wala nang makikita

Halos hindi na makilala Ang paa’t kamay naging sanga Ang mga lalamon ay nakahanda At ang matitira sa kanila ay wala

Ninais lang matigil ang sakit Ngunit bakit parang mas mapait Nararapat ba ang maging malupit Sa mga taong nakaramdam na sila ay maliit

At sa huli na parang walang wakas Kahit na gamitan pa ng kumpas Ay hindi pa rin makalalagpas Sa disyerto na pinamalas

Ang paang hindi na maghihilom Dahil sa mga pasong nalikom Sa buhangin na nagliliyab At sa pag-ulan ng apoy na sumisilab.

Caged Butterfly

Written by MYCAH ANDREA TUSI

Living in my memory Is the girl I used to be Unshackled, free I wonder… where is she?

Now I am no more than a caged butterfly. Amongst the noise and chaos, drowned and silenced is my cry

My self-worth was stripped off me layer-by-layer rather slowly. A budding flower that never blossomed Among the unlucky ones that were plucked early.

Battered and broken Like a toy worth a dime. Helpless and hopeless, Suffering repeatedly, like a loop in time.

Life is but a fleeting moment, But did I really even live? Your whispers of promises… I believed, but was deceived.

In a place that is cruel and shows no mercy, would you rather be damned for eternity?

Reflection

T

welve midnight. While the sky completely submerged into darkness, the city revealed its active night industries together with the sparkly little stars from a distance above. Matthew took a break from work. He went to the usual place. A children’s playground, a ten-minute walk away from the company building he is currently employed at.

Heaving a long sigh of relief and puffing his flavored cigar. The deafening silence is music to his ears. He loves it. He finds comfort and solace in it. He is not afraid of the recent resurgence of night crimes in the city. He has always been strong and mighty and he knows that even if he’s to be abducted or kidnapped for ransom, he’ll make a way to escape. Even without a single help. Even just by himself.

Sitting in his favorite see-saw, sightseeing the entire city in the colorful frame of his eyes, a thing suddenly caught his attention. As he picked it up from the ground, he found a government ID covered with dirt and mud. The ID states it was issued ten years ago and will expire a month ahead. He felt the need to report it to the authorities. He felt it might have been misplaced by the female owner. And without a single moment of doubt, he did. He walked to the nearest police station known to him.

The officers were quick to cater to his concerns. They called the mobile number, provided in the ID, but the contact was non-existent anymore. They searched through social media accounts — Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. Unfortunately, the name was not found. There were resemblances to the name of the owner but they were all living on the other side of the planet. The police officers ordered Matthew to go home and just wait for the progress of the case. But, Matthew insisted, stating that the ID owner needs it before it expires. Besides, the ID is a must to own in the city. Without it, the female owner may be subject to arrest. Because of this, the police patrol roamed around the city, situated the address in the ID, and successfully returned it to the female owner whose name is Ms. Johanna.

Matthew was relieved to find out the news. The police officers brought Johanna with them to meet Matthew at the station. As soon as the two met, a familiar stare flashed back haunting memories. Unnoticed by the police ovfficers, Johanna quickly pulled out a knife from her pocket and thrust it thrice into Matthew’s heart. The policemen quickly came to the rescue, pointing their guns at Johanna’s head but before they could even come close, Matthew begged.

“Don’t hurt her. Keep her alive. It was my fault, I’m sorry Ms—” Matthew failed to speak her name as he was completely soaked in his own pool of blood. Johanna shed a tear but the satisfaction overpowered her pity for Matthew. She saw her own reflection in Matthew’s eyes — the look of fear and remorse. For the last time, she stabbed Matthew’s genitalia.

“Congratulations, officers. You caught the rapist that ruined my life a decade ago. Now, you may arrest me.”

The police station was occupied by a deafening silence.

Written by JOHN PAUL TORRECAMPO

IMPRISONED

Written by MARJORIE TUNO

I got up at the crack of dawn, Light kisses me — sun rising over the horizon. It was hot, but I felt chills to be unknown. I cannot move, and all I can see is drywall. Then, I saw my hands embraced with handcuffs, I am in a cell, trying to escape from rusty metal bars I knew I was barricaded — I’m all alone, imprisoned.

Living my life in the eerie room’s four corners Are like the night, black and hush as ever.

Inside that cell, I am fighting with a deadly monster I cannot defeat him; he wants to kill me with my eyes covered. He is too much of a monster to overthrow; He’s much more powerful; attacking even the sun is not yet gone, A demon imprisons your mind — a silent killer, depression.

I never know how it came, how I got imprisoned. All I know is that pain constantly comes in a snap; At times when I long for bright stars and constellations, There it comes, bears stormy weather and groans In dreadful hours, it takes up my soul that makes me howl. I do not want to live within this dying soul, Maybe I should cut my wrist and finally lead my peace.

One dim night, I found an old knife on the shelf, Maybe I could use it to free my inner self. Perhaps, this is the only way to end my life Because I do not want everything in my sight.

With all the blood that I got, It implies I succeeded in my life, Finally, suffering has come to an end And I am now free from the wrath of this world.

Puting Tela

Written by JUAN MARCELITO MAGO SORIANO

Unti-unting idinilat ng isang lalaki ang kaniyang mga mata. Nagising siya sa isang silid, at naaalala niyang sa kaniya itong silid-tulugan. Bigla siyang nakaramdam ng sakit ng ulo, na para bang may nakabaon. Tumingin pa siya sa paligid at napansin niya ang picture frame na hindi kalayuan sa kaniya, tumayo siya at dinampot iyon

“Diane? Charlotte?” agad niyang nakilala ang mga nasa litrato, ang mag-ina niya. Agad siyang tumayo, ngunit sa pagtayo niya ay may nalaglag... isang baril na kanina pa pala nakakandong sa hita niya, nagulat siya. At ngayo’y napansin niya rin ang mga kamay niya na puro dugo!

“Ano ito!?” napalakas ang boses niya sa takot.

Tumingin siya sa likuran niya at may isang bangkay, nilalangaw na ito at may tama ng bala sa ulo, nakasusulasok ang amoy at nakabalot ang ulo nito ng puting tela. Agad siyang napasigaw at napaupo sa kaniyang nakita. Nakapatay ako, ang sabi niya sa kaniyang isip.

Sobra na siyang naguguluhan at mas lalo pa siyang napaisip, hindi niya matandaan ang kanyang pangalan.

Sino ako? bulong niya sa sarili. Agad siyang tumayo, kinuha ang litrato ng kaniyang mag-ina at lumabas ng silid. Natatandaan niya ang pamilya niya ngunit bukod doon ay wala na siyang maalalang iba pa.

Naghugas siya ng kaniyang kamay, nagbihis at nilinis ang sarili. Kailangan niyang hanapin si Diane, ang kaniyang asawa, at si Charlotte, ang kaniyang nag-iisang anak. Iniisip niyang tumakas dahil alam niyang may napatay siyang tao at ayaw niyang makulong, mas pinili niyang sumama sa mag-ina niya para tumakas, magpapakalayo-layo.

Agad siyang umalis ng bahay at nagsimula siyang magtanong tanong sa kalye kung nakita ba nila ang kaniyang mag-ina habang hawak niya ang litrato nito.

Ramdam na ramdam niya ang pagkahapo, nang may lumapit sa kaniyang matandang babae.

“Hijo, alam kong pagod na pagod ka na,” ani ng matanda. Tumango lamang siya habang nakatitig sa matanda. Nahihiwagaan siya sa matandang ito, may kakaiba siyang pakiramdam dito.

“Kilalanin mong mabuti ang iyong sarili at malalaman mo kung sino ang kalaban mo. Kilala mo siya, malapit siyang tao sa’yo. Huwag kang magpapatalo, ilang beses ka nang nabigo pero may tiyansa ka pa para makatakas. Huwag kang magpapadaig,” babala ng matanda at agad naman itong lumakad palayo.

Naiwang tulala ang lalake at hindi alam ang ibig pakahulugan ng matanda, sobra pa rin siyang naguguluhan, maski ang pangalan niya’y hindi niya alam, paglingon niya sa likod ay bigla namang naglaho ang matanda.

Malapit na mag-gabi at wala pa rin siyang napapala sa paghahanap sa dalawang niyang mahal sa buhay at naisipan niyang tawagan ang kaniyang ina gamit ang payphone. Kinapa niya ang bulsa niya at sakto na may singko pa siya sa kaniyang bulsa.

“Hello, sino ito?” sagot ng kausap niya mula sa kabilang linya.

“Ina, ako ito, si --” bigla siyang natigilan dahil hindi niya alam ang kaniyang ngalan.

“Daniel?” tanong ng kaniyang ina dahil nakilala niya ang kaniyang anak sa boses nito. Agad itong humagulhol sa iyak.

Daniel… Daniel ang kaniyang ngalan na naalala na niya sa wakas, salamat sa kaniyang ina. Dali dali niya ring tinanong...

“Opo ina, ako po ito si Daniel. Nasaan po ang asawa at anak ko? Si Diane at Charlotte,” tanong ni Daniel sa kaniyang ina.

“Anak, bakit mo naitanong? Matagal nang patay si Diane at Charlotte, hindi mo na natatandaan? Tatlong taon nang nakakalipas noong maaksidente kayong tatlo sa isang car crash at ikaw lang ang nakaligtas. Anak nasaan ka ba at ilang araw na kitang hinahanap! Bumalik ka na sa bahay, sobrang nag-aalala na ko sa iyo,” paliwanag ng kaniyang ina.

Nabingi si Daniel sa kaniyang narinig, bumaliktad ang kaniyang mundo nang malaman niya ang katotohanan. Patay na, wala na ang kaniyang mag-ina.

“Kung ano mang balak mo Daniel, huwag mo itutuloy parang awa mo na, mahal na mahal kita anak at ayaw kita mawala!” patuloy pa rin ang pag-iyak ng kaniyang ina sa kabilang linya.

“Pasensya na po ina, paalam po,” ang sabi ni Daniel bago ibaba ang telepono.

Agad itong nagtungo pabalik sa kaniyang bahay... Pumasok siya sa silid kung saan siya nagising. Laking pagtataka niya at wala na ang bangkay na napatay niya. Ngunit hindi mahalaga sa kaniya iyon, mas iniisip niya na nawala ang mag-ina niya dahil sa kaniya, hindi siya maingat sa pagmamaneho at ang kapalit no’n ay ang buhay ni Diane at Charlotte.

Kaya naisip niyang mabuti pang tapusin na lang rin ang buhay niya, wala nang saysay pa para mabuhay.

Dinampot niya ang baril na nailaglag niya kanina at inilapag naman sa di kalayuan ang litrato, tinanggal niya ang case ng kaniyang unan, kulay puti ito. Binalot niya ito sa kaniyang ulo...

Ikinasa niya ang baril at itinutok niya ito sa kaniyang sintido. Isa, dalawa, tatlo… at pinutok ni Daniel ang baril sa kaniyang ulo.

Roses are Dead

Written by MARY BELLE RADAM

Two sisters were named after the flowers One was Daisy and the other one’s Rose Both can charm the crowd for hours But the latter outshines the most

On the first snowfall, the two lost insight Their foot tracks led to their parent’s dismay Before them, one who stood with fright While the other’s fallen, waiting to decay

After the funeral, hallways used to fill with laughter But was now taken by Daisy to her grave One vacant chair stood a burden during dinner Mother sobs echo ‘till bedtime that made Rose cave

Every corner became Daisy’s remains Even her parent’s lips, where her name flows Mesmerizing her photo out of pain They dwell relentlessly, losing glimpse of Rose

At the peak of dawn, the couple stood before the pit Where Rose lies, witnessing a slit on her throat On her chest, seeds scatter while a note sit ‘Bury me, then you’ll get your daisies again, whom you love most.’

Nether Hell, Sins of Fraud or Malice, Simple Sins, Malebolge (evil pouches), ten pouches.

Punishment:

1st pouch- pimps/panderers/seducers-whipped by demons while marching.

2nd pouch- flatterers-immersed in human excrement.

3rd pouch- Simoniacs/Simoners-placed in holes head first with their legs exposed and their feet burned

4th pouch- Sorcery/diviners-contorted until their heads are backward and

they cry until blind

5th pouch- Corrupt politicians-immersed in the pool of boiling pitch

6th pouch- hypocrites-forced to wear clothes made of lead

7th pouch- More fraud/thieves-chased and bitten by reptiles

8th pouch- Fraudulent rhetoric/false counselors-wrapped in individual columns of flame

9th pouch- Divisiveness/Schismatics-split from chin to groin by sword

10th pouch- Falsification/falsifiers-compelled to scratch their itching skin

“And if living in shame Is the name of your game, Go on, defraud and swindle. In time, you’ll perish and dwindle. For all the tricks of your personal gain, The Malebolge will surely bring you pain.”

A part of the nether hell saves its seats for those who perpetrated Fraud to deceive others. They face eternal punishment based on the following malicious mask they portrayed – pimps, flatterers, simoniacs, diviners, corrupt politicians, hypocrites, thieves, false counselors, schismatics, and falsifiers.

The Persecution

Written by JAMILLE JANE DIPOL

I was swayed by their sweet promises, Seem compassionate amidst crisis, I was overwhelmed by their kindness, Humility was painted on their faces.

They were the politicians, Way back in 2016. They transformed into ferocious evil, That manipulated the Philippines.

How I wish for them to rot in jail, But the injustices prevail.

How I wish that there’s a divine power That compels them to suffer.

May their guilt and conscience, Hunt them forever. Just like they can’t escape Escape from the sizzling stone coffin.

May they agonize and reflect On how people turned wrecked, While they were forced to swim, In a filthy boiling stream.

Ominous dogs are chasing them, They were vigorously running, Just like how they run away, From justice and punishment.

May they ask for repentance For being inhumane And let the fate decide On their status in the afterlife.

Behind the Facade Preachers

Written by MARY BELLE RADAM

We repress the hunger behind our eyes It was not natural among humans; we perceive Carried away by the pleasure that won’t die Placing sensual contact on abstinence, as it’s a sin like Eve’s

Yet we lure to unknown desire under the dark Far worse from smearing our purity before marriage Even sharing mouths other than with our counterpart And muddling juvenile innocence to obscuring services

We utter the words ‘Love thy neighbor,” but our judgments They spit hatred at those who are not like us; instead of Jesus, We portray those who throw rocks at sinned residents Our indifference discriminates and creates stigmas so vicious

Precious as gems, we value the lives of humans Even the seed in the womb that still hasn’t gained a pulse But we encourage those who kill the uncommon Watching the last breath of the undeserving feeble

Among the principles taught in the bible We acknowledge what confirms our misbeliefs What’s favorable to us, despite the risk of principle The rest that values marginalized dignity became unsung riffs

We forget that the Church was established as a hospital, Meant for the broken, where they can seek refuge Instead, it’s a museum to flaunt our holiness so ironical That it lingers with so much arrogance, it scourges

Last Sunday

Written by JENNICA MAXIAN

I sluggishly closed the door, like nothing had happened, and walked away from that room. I immediately grabbed my stuff and hurriedly returned to my house.

Inspiring sentiments, kind individuals, and rendezvous of lost souls… Those compelled me to go to church every Sunday before. I testified how my life changed since I became optimistic to listen to the doctrines they have discussed with me. It was kind of a remedy for my brokenness.

Yeah. I came from a broken family and I struggle to live with what normal people should live with. Every day, I try to mend the holes in my life by reassembling the pieces that were left after my mother abandoned my drunken and apathetic father, and brought me to the orphanage without letting me know where she was going.

Orphanage? What a benevolent term. But for me, it is another torment. We ate from the donations of numerous unknown philanthropists. But I and my fellow orphans almost starved to death. We earned our once-a-day meal after we worked like carabaos – cleaning the whole building.

When I reached 16 years old, I left the orphanage to live independently. I applied for a job as a waitress in a pub near the house where I was staying. Because of my appealing physique and excessive begging, I was hired.

I worked and strived day and night to provide my daily necessities. It was exhausting and draining especially when I encounter hostile and malicious customers. But I have no other choice because I didn’t have any school diploma to present in applying for other employment. That’s why life is harder for me

Until one day, on my way to work, I bumped into a stranger. I panicked and apologized right away. But the gentleman made a sign that it was fine. He gave me a white envelope with a kind grin on his face and went away.

When I opened the envelope, an intriguing statement “God is hope” was shown, along with a name of a church and address on the bottom. In my mind, I smirked and said, “So I bumped with a saint.” Then I continue to walk to my workplace.

As I returned home, I remembered the stranger and the envelope he gave me. I’m not religious nor an atheist. But I went to church once with my mother. Beside her, nobody told me to visit the place they called “holy”. I want to know what’s inside the church. And what does this “God is hope” card from a stranger really mean? Out of curiosity, I plan my first visitation.

One Sunday morning, the sun was luminously shining and everyone was sweating in the heat. A high respected news company forecasted a 39.9 °C temperature, not surprising that everyone feels like sizzling. Nevertheless, I continue walking in the direction heading to the address of a church that was written on a card given to me last week.

A little distance from where I was standing, I heard voices singing and musical instruments playing an aristocratic song. A lady who has a kind aura approaches me and directs me to the entrance door.

I sat down in the first row, where she led me. After a little while, the preacher was called and a familiar face showed up and spoke in front of us.

“A man I bumped into last week was a preacher?”, I murmured to myself.

He introduced his name, Angelo Gomez, as a family man and businessman. He started his teaching about “God is hope” and brought me a lot of realizations in life. A glimpse of optimism and enlightenment saturated my body and made me cry. That was the first Sunday of my journey in churching.

On the second Sunday, I was invited to a bible study group with the ladies who have the same age as mine. They opened up their lives and whereabouts, and I did the same. We comforted each other and they became my friends.

The third Sunday has arrived and I feel so excited. I joined the dance ministry and this is my first time showcasing what we practiced for days. After the service, I went to the rooms of the dancing ministry. I slowly opened the door and I was shaking and rattling to what I witnessed. Luckily, they didn’t notice me.

Our preacher and my co-dancer exchange kisses and sweet words. As far as I know, Mr. Gomez was a married and decent man. But it changed my perspective towards him after what I saw today. He has a forbidden affair with my co-dancer, the same age as mine.

From then, I was no longer attached to the church, especially to Mr. Gomez. That was the last Sunday I went to church and wasted time hearing preaching. I realized not all adulterers and fraudsters were found in the pub where I work. Some are hiding in a holy place wearing the mask of a sweet reverend but full of lustful desire and feigning.

Where Loyalty Resides

Written by JOHN PAUL TORRECAMPO

“Remember, Cardo! This is your last chance to prove your worth to Boss Tani. One mistake and you’ll be out.”

“I know,” with a cracked-up voice, Cardo renewed his confidence to execute the critical task assigned to him.

“Aim for the first child. Jojo and Jaja are inside the van, waiting outside, backing you up. Distract the police and do it as fast as you can.”

The moment the call ended, Cardo’s hands were already trembling in fear. It is now or never. The task is on hand. Either he’ll gain a million peso share if it goes successfully, or he’ll lose everything... his job and possessions. He’s much aware of Boss Tani’s firm and ruthless ways to keep the organization thriving in an undetected environment. The very reason why he is eager to regain his trust and hopefully, be promoted to a higher-paying position next month.

Away from the crowd, he observed the parents struggling to keep up with their children’s speed. It is Family Day — a worldwide celebration leaned to the cultivation of healthy and virtuous familial relationships.

Cardo caught himself staring at the flock of children in vibrant costumes. Without speaking a word, a tear glided down his cheeks. He could not even utter a breath as he witnessed the joyous sightseeing from a distance. The hassle. The affection. The love. He feels it.

But as he was on the verge of breaking down, a child in a full-body banana costume ran in his direction. Before Cardo knew it, he came batck to his senses and was able to nab the child. Forcefully inserting a cloth inside the victim’s mouth, it prompted a disturbing silence in the hallway. It was an effortless task despite the child’s struggle to free himself from the criminal’s grip, given Cardo’s background of being a former cop.

He quickly arrived at the back gate of the elementary school and was greeted by Jojo and Jaja. A sigh of relief as he had finished his part. Jojo drove the van while Jaja immediately inoculated the helpless child with a lethal injection.

“Nice work, team!” Jojo exclaimed as he maneuvered the vehicle to the secret place. Not long after a five-minute ride, they found themselves quivering in front of Boss Tani, whose reaction was unimpressed and whose authoritative voice echoes in the highly disguised place.

“I say, a piece of our valued product wrapped in this bland costume, was unusual and likely disgusting! Nevertheless, I offer a slight appreciation to the excellent but rather, an easy work done by the three of you.”

Surprisingly, Cardo received a pat on his shoulder.

“Especially you, Cardo. You have shown grit and perseverance. I see that you have retained your excellence. It is hardly manageable to deny that you have all the qualities to be one of us,” the boss monotonously spoke as he handed a knife to the esteemed Cardo.

“Now, as part of the tradition, before we call you one of us, we ought to know where your loyalty resides.”

“Sir, it is without a shadow of a doubt that my loyalty resides in you, in this brotherhood, and in this work I swore to protect,” Cardo bowed down as he threw assurance to the boss.

“Then show us how you carve golds, silvers, and diamonds inside that pale and awful body you brought up! Bring the product!” Boss Tani ordered his men. In just a minute, the murdered child was presented.

Filled with enthusiasm, Cardo was consumed by the celebration of the good news he heard. He tightly held the knife handed to him by the boss and whispered prayers under his breath. He stepped forward and removed the costume of the victim.

But all the surge of emotions abruptly vanished into thin air. The knife in his hand slid straight to the ground as he was struck with agony and remorse. At once, Cardo fell to his knees, wailing as if an infant starved to death. He is now a father of a lifeless child.

Hypocrite in Disguise

Written by JUSTINE ROSE GENERATO

The candles burn on both ends, 1, 2, 3… as we count on it Watching it melt as it descends Bidding goodbye to a throne where it sits.

Look at me! I’m well-behaved Appearing weak instead of brave The one who hides in anyone’s cave And also the one who’ll cry on your grave.

A wicked smile hiding from behind Something’s horrible runs through my mind A smile that you can’t anymore find Was already gone in a blink of an eye.

When the ambiance falls from the abyss One must taste the impostor’s kiss Upon it, I shall jump on a precipice Of a raging fire from hell that exists.

Remove my mask and wait ‘till you see A hypocrite, a seducer, a malicious thief But no, don’t you dare cry in grief I’m still the same good girl, which do you believe?

Maningning na Bituin

Written by ROMIELETH ESPILLARDO

“Kay ganda naman ng aking anak!” ‘Yan ang ani mo nang ako’y isinilang. “Paglaki mo, paniguradong magiging sikat kang bituin,” Lahat ng tao sa paligid ay umaayon rin naman.

Ngunit, hindi ko mawari Bakit nga ba ganoon?

Sa kabila ng iyong paghanga sa akin, Nagawa mo pa rin akong iwan, Ina. Nagkaroon ka ng bagong pamilya, Tila ako’y nalimutan mo na. Nasaan na ang aking Ina, Na puno ng pagmamahal at pag-aruga?

Isang beses, ako’y muling lumapit Pero bakit parang estranghero ang iyong turing? Gusto ko lang namang bumalik sa dati, Kaso malabo na yatang mangyari.

Hihingi lang sana ako ng kaunting tulong, Ngunit ito lamang ang iyong sinambit, “Ipinanganak kitang maganda, kaya pagkakitaan mo ‘yan!” Hindi ko alam kung ano bang dapat kong maramdaman.

Kapag ba nagawa ko iyon, Mamahalin mo na uli ako bilang anak mo? Kapag ba ako’y naging bituin, Babalik ka na bilang aking Ina?

Isang ahente ang lumapit sa akin, At nagbigay ng oportunidad na maging aktres, “Hija, sa ganda mong n‘yan, tiyak sisikat ka!” Para sa’yo Ina, susubukin ko ito. Agad-agad akong nabigyan ng proyekto, Labis naman ang tuwa ko. Makikita na ako sa telebisyon ni Ina, Siguradong akong matutuwa siya.

Kinabukasan, simula na ng pagtatanghal. Pero, iba ata ang aking napasukan. Bakit may ganitong mga eksena? Hindi ko alam kung anong gagawin ko.

“Lights, camera, action!” Kasabay ng pag-alis ng aking saplot, Unti-unti rin akong nahubaran ng dignidad. Ang bagay na hinding-hindi ko na maibabalik.

Ina, nung sinabi mong bituin Hindi naman ito ang iyong ibig-sabihin, ‘di ba? Tiyak, mas lalo mo akong itataboy Sa oras na malaman mo ito.

Ayoko nang humantong sa ganoon, Hindi ko kakayanin. Kaya siguro mas mainam na, Iba na lang ang aking gawin.

Patawad Ina, kung nadismaya ka sa akin. Sa kagustuhang mapasaya ka, Ako naman iyong nagdurusa. Nahulog ako sa isang patibong.

Hindi kita bibiguin, magiging bituin pa rin ako. Hindi nga lamang sa telebisyon, Kung hindi sa kalangitan, Na titingalain mo tuwing gabi.

Nether Hell, Sins of Fraud or Malice, Well of Giants, Complex, Cocytus, Traitors, nearing Earth’s Center.

Punishment:

Caina- betrayed of Kin-lodged headfirst in blocks of ice Antenora- betrayers of country-forced to eat one another Ptolomea- betrayers of guests-lodged head up in squares of ice with frost freezing their eyes so that they cannot cry Judecca- betrayers of benefactors-contorted and lodged completely within blocks of ice

“Drawn in your hand

The blood of a fellow Taken from the back where you stand Because you’re afraid– you’re yellow But the thing is, even faceless, you will still be caught The verdict sees what’s in the blindspot”

The deepest part of Hell in which the traitors reside. Lodged in ice for eternity are the souls who turned their backs for their own gain.

Pagkatapos

Sumapit na ang gabi at ito ako ngayon muli Panibagong gabi ng pag-iisip, bakit hindi na pwedeng ipilit Pinipilit gamutin ang sugat na hindi naman ako ang may gawa Mga bakit na paulit-ulit hinahanapan ng sagot maski sa mga tala.

Noon naman ay masaya at tila isang nobela ng romansa Para bang isang panaginip tuwing hagkan-hagkan ka Ang oras at mga araw ay hindi namamalayang lumilipas Ikaw at ako lamang sa sariling mundo natin ay walang wakas. Parang ang lahat ng alaala ay dumaan lamang sa isang kisapmata Lalim ng sugat ng pagtataksil sa akin hindi mo na mabubura Mga paliwanag mong hindi ko alam saan patungo Hindi sapat, lalo lamang gumugulo

Naramdaman ko sa mga yakap at halik ang totoo Ngunit nagbago ang lahat nang sinimulan mo akong itulak palayo Naiwan akong tuliro sa ating mundo Mag-isa, nasaan na ang aking kapareho?

Dumating ang araw ng pagtatapat Hindi nga lamang sa mga labi mo nanggaling ang mga kalat Na may ibang yumayakap, yumayapos at nasasandalang mga balikat Pag-ibig na tuluyan na ngang nawalan ng alat

TUSI

Written by CHARLIE MAE CRUISE & MYCAH

When I Give Everything

I was once born with a silver spoon in my mouth Everyone likes me, everybody needs me But when I fell for guys, I gave everything, even the world.

I let them control me, I gave them the power to take advantage of me. But one day, my diamonds turned into stone. I lost everything, even the man I used to love the most.

I woke up feeling numb, It’s like someone punched me in the gut. I’ve never had this feeling, Until I realized I was stabbed in the back.

I continued to live even at my worst, Since there is a life inside my womb. I have to stand and come to blows. I will give him everything, even if I have nothing.

I’ve never felt complete joy and spring. But, my child painted happiness into my life. I raised him with all my strength And never made him feel there was a missing piece

In one glimpse, everything has changed. My only gem gave me a Judas kiss. Like everyone did, he left me in the lurch. Maybe, that’s the price of giving everything.

Written by MARJORIE TUNO

by JUSTINE ROSE GENERATO

Written

T he sand touched my bare feet as I stepped out of the cottage. The strong wind and the waves of the ocean welcomed me. It was all serene, especially since the love of my life is with me.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? This scene,” I said while holding his hand.

I heard him sigh and slowly remove our hands away from each other.

“It is,” he said coldly.

I can’t help but notice his frigid eyes. It’s filled with no emotions yet I didn’t care. I love him, he’s all I want and that’s all that matters to me. I just looked at the scene in front of me but it’s slowly fading away. And in just a snap, it’s gone...

vv

I screamed when I saw myself inside a barred room with just a small window and a closed door.

“Help! Where am I? I don’t belong here! I was just on the beach with my husband and suddenly, I’m here! Help! Please!” I shouted, crying angrily.

I don’t like this place. I don’t know how I got here.

I saw a white single-sized bed – that’s the only stuff here. I used the bed for me to reach the window on the upper side of the door but I still can’t reach it. I smacked the window hard thinking it would break but it didn’t. I saw someone outside my room so I started shouting again calling the attention of the girl in white attire. She just looked at me like I was nothing and continued with whatever she was doing. I started to cry, I don’t know what was happening.

I suddenly heard the door open so I quickly jumped out of the bed but these two guys held me so that I couldn’t move. “What?! I need to go out and be with my husband!” I said keeping their hands off me.

They didn’t answer, they just put handcuffs on me instead. I cried and just begged them to let me free... but they didn’t.

I calmed down while they walked me outside the room. This place is outrageous, there are people inside each room and they’re screaming as we walk past them. We keep on walking and at the end of the hallway, my husband is sitting on a bench and looking at me coldly, the same look he did when we’re at the beach.

I excitedly greeted him, “Sweetheart!” I sat on the bench as well but the two guys handcuffed me on the railings, “Why are you doing that? My husband is here, he won’t let you do this!” But they just looked at me with blank eyes and walked away.

“How are you?” he asked. I just smiled and focused on his face, it didn’t change.

On the spur of the moment, I saw myself kissing someone else. I remember him, he’s the guy from work. I liked this guy. But then I saw my husband’s face on the other side, he doesn’t have the cold eyes now, they changed into resentful ones. The scene in my head changed, I’m now at my house, begging my husband to not leave me.

“No! You cheater! Good thing we haven’t had kids! You’d be a terrible mother!”

And with that, a memory struck me. I met a man from work. He and I had a secret relationship for a while, but my husband caught us red-handed. He didn’t say a word to me. He just packed his things and looked at me with cold eyes –the same way he looks at me now.

I started crying. I heard my husband’s voice calling me once my consciousness regained.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“You always ask me this question every time I come here. But this is just the same answer, you cheated on me. I left you. You started imagining things, your neighbors started to hear screams and furniture banging on the wall. And now you’re here, on a psych ward. I always visit you from time to time. Expecting you to sign our divorce papers but you don’t want to. I love you, but this has to stop.”

And with that, I froze. I can feel my anger build up inside my body. I kept letting go of the handcuffs but the nurses came to me and did something to make me fall asleep.

“Traitor,” my husband said as I lost my consciousness.

Bayang Pinako sa Pangako

Written by RYAN EMMANUEL REYES

Tumatakbo ka na naman! Mangangako na ibibigay ang lahat; Pabahay para sa mamamayan, Trabaho para mapakain ang mga buto’t balat.

Mataas na sweldo para sa taong bayan, Edukasyon para sa lahat. Kunwari ang sinasabi’y malaman, Ngunit ang salita ay salat sa alat.

Kukunin ang puso ng mga tao, Pagkatapos ay maglalaho, Dala-dala ang kilo-kilong sako, Laman ang perang papel at tanso.

Sapantaha

Abot-kamay na ang kasarinlan Tanaw ang nagniningning na kinabukasan Luhang dulot ng lubos na kagalakan Pang-aalila’y tuluyan nang matutuldukan

Kalabitin ang gatilyo sa bilang na tatlo Ilaan ang atensyon sa mga dayuhang nanggugulo Markahan kung saan sila nagtutungo Tiyaking sa patibong sila ay susubo

Isa, dalawa, tat— bilang ay naudlot Isa-isang nagbagsakan sa bundok na binalot na ng lumot Huli na ang lahat upang puso’y pagharian pa ng poot Ruta nila’y itinuro ng taong katiting na tela ang suot

Written by JOHN PAUL TORRECAMPO

The Breaking Point

“I, Lysander, take thee, Ansel, to be my wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my faith.”

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest cued.

The couple leaned for a kiss. But before Lysander’s and Ansel’s lips could touch each other, the sound of something shattering echoed.

“What was that sound?” Ansel, who was reading the newspaper, suddenly stood up from the couch.

Lysander snapped back from reality and looked down at the smiling bride and groom, traced with a crack from the broken glass frame.

“I was wiping our wedding picture… then I suddenly dropped it, I’m sorry,” she kneeled to pick up the glass remains.

“Why are you using your bare hands?! Aren’t you thinking?!” Ansel pointed at his head.

“I’m not dumb, I know what I have to do,” Lysander left to get some cleaning materials while shaking off some dust on her knees.

Ansel sat down on the couch again to read, but this time he had to read a sentence more than once. Lysander came back with the broom.

“Why did you drop it? You know it’s glass, you should’ve been more careful.”

“It was an accident. I’m sorry,” Lysander continued to sweep the floor, checking every space to ensure no pieces of glass are left that would cause harm. She looked at Ansel whose brows furrowed while reading. She sighed and walked toward him.

“Can I have this newspaper? I didn’t want to do this but our storage room doesn’t have any newspapers left. You can read the news on the internet, even on television. Or if you want, I can go out to buy a new one,” Lysander held the broom horizontally with both of her hands.

Ansel continued reading while his hands slowly formed into a fist, making the newspaper wrinkle.

“Can I ha–” Lysander’s words were interrupted by the sound of the newspaper being thrown to the ground. Ansel walked away, stepping on the glass remains, and kicked some of it. Lysander looked back at him and the glass.

Mornings have always been like this. Whenever Lysander would be asked by her mother if she’s doing fine, she always says, “You don’t have to worry about me. You named me Lysander for a reason.”

Lunch came and just as Lysander was about to knock at their room to call Ansel to eat, he burst out the door, hitting Lysander’s forehead.

“I’m going to eat somewhere. I’ll be back before dinner,” not even looking back, Ansel wore his slip-ons and headed out.

Written by BLASE LAGUERTA

Not even surprised, Lysander patted her forehead and went on to eat alone.

“Mmm. It’s so delicious that I could die,” she licked the fork and spoon, removing all the residue left. Looking at the clean spoon, she was able to see her reflection.

“Look at me, I will never pass for a perfect bride or a perfect daughter. Can it be I’m not meant to play this part? Now I see that if I were truly to be myself, I would break my family’s heart,” Lysander fake cried and acted sang as if she was Mulan, and laughed because her face was distorted in the spoon.

Night has fallen, and by the time the clock struck six, Ansel was already knocking at the door. Lysander was setting up the kitchen with music on, disabling her to hear Ansel. Only then she was able to realize Ansel’s presence from afar when he’s been pounding at the door as if he was holding a hammer. She then hurried to open the door, and Ansel was looking at her with his left eyebrow raised and both sides on the side of his hips.

“I told you I was going to be back by dinner, why did you lock the door?!” Ansel brushed through his hair and stomped his feet as he walked in. Lysander followed him to the kitchen and suggested that they should eat together. Ansel just nodded at her.

“Here’s your soup,” Lysander placed the bowl in front of Ansel and placed hers too on the other side. Just as Ansel was about to taste it, Lysander stopped him.

“First of all, I don’t want us to eat and act like we’re on good terms,” Lysander sat beside him. “I want to apologize for what I did earlier.”

“I’m glad you admitted this,” he boasted.

“Before we eat, can I ask you to recite your marriage vow to me?” Lysander stared into her husband’s eyes.

“What? That’s so random. Besides, I’m really hungry so I’m going to eat n–” Ansel choked and his eyes widened. “What wa– my tongue hurts!” he quickly stood up to see his tongue in the mirror and was horrified by the tiny pieces of glass in it.

“Recite your marriage vow now,” Lysander whispered and pointed the knife at his back.

“I–I can’t remember! Please, don’t do this!” he struggled to speak and couldn’t even glance at her face in the mirror.

“If that’s the case, I’ll make you remember,” Lysander pulled his hair and smashed his head repeatedly on the mirror.

Lysander slid her finger to Ansel’s now bleeding temple, then began writing the vow with his blood.

“I, Ansel, take thee, Lysander, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my faith,” Lysander wrote, heaving while laying her eyes on the continuous dripping of blood on Ansel’s almost unrecognizable face. She saw him attempting to open his eyes, so she threw him to the ground.

Lysander gazed at her reflection in the mirror and cried, “I’m Lysander, the one who is freed!” and stabbed Ansel on his neck.

Touch move – you’ve settled your place

Where torture numbs your pleasure

Then leads to your insanity at slow pace

Abandon all hope upon your ledger

For the card you hold, leads to your eternal doom That punctures holes in your soul, a pain that can’t be immune

INFERNO: THE 9 CIRCLES OF HELL

Belle A. Radam

PAOLO M. GASPAR