Letters to L (Jan. 3, 2020)

Dear L,

I know. I know that we'd have less time for each other once you go to med school and I, to law school.

I know that being together doesn't mean keeping the other from chasing a lifelong dream.

And I'd be happy to be nothing but a supportive girlfriend.

You won't cheat on me.

Dear L,

I've been watching you from afar. I was with you on your bigger-than-life moments ab initio - winning the science fair, running for the student council, applying for the school's basketball team, for a few.

I've been loving you without your knowledge, L. I was proud, although I was a non-existent lass to you.

I was broken when you had your first girlfriend.

Even worse when you had your second.

I've been keeping this secret for years, L. I couldn't take it anymore. You should know the truth.

That was my agenda.

But lo, behold, you like me. You said you do.

And even when the attraction you have for me is the littlest you could possibly give, I'd take it.

I know it's wrong to have you this way, but I just crave a chance long overdue. To the people I hurt along the way, I'm sorry.

It's a selfish and bitchy move, but like what they sing in a song,

I'm just a woman in love.

Dear L,

It's been so long. You look so handsome as ever...and successful. Me? Well, I work at the club where you and your friends drink to lunacy every weekend.

I see you brought your girl. Funny because that was me before. I hurry past your table, and notice something's...odd. The girl seated on your lap was not Pristine. Did you two break up?

I don't think so. She posts screenshots of your conversation in her IG stories regularly. It hasn't stopped...at least, not yet.

You should be shouted expletives at, L. You're a douche as ever. I guess I'm right on leaving you.

2:00 a.m. (Dec. 28, 2019)

Astride him was Belynda. Just a moment ago, her sweet mouth bobbed up and down his thick length. She wasn't really his type, but having her was a much better option than fisting himself to oblivion.

One final release and he pulled his thing out. The woman laughed.

"Buckle yourself up, lover boy. We're up for round two."

He glared at her, but she paid no mind. Belynda was a great lover in bed, he'd give her that. The thing is, he had a job interview to go to tomorrow. And he needed that job.

"Get out, Belynda. We're done for tonight."

She bit her lip seductively. "But your dick doesn't seem to agree, honey. It's not limp yet. C'mon, don't be too...hard...on yourself."

Belynda started to grind herself to him. He groaned at the contact. Belynda, liking the response, continued what she was doing. He cursed as his body reacted to the sensual rhythm.

Infuriated, he went on top of her. The woman grinned in approval. In and out of her feminity, he pushed. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. It was rough sex, to which all her previous sexcapades pale in comparison. Ah, something to brag to Cindy, Belynda smiled at the thought.

"What are you thinking of, huh, naughty girl?"

He tugged at her nipples. They were hard as rock. He palmed her breasts, massaged them, and watched as her face contorted in carnal pleasure.

Belynda looked as if she didn't know where to turn her head. All was too much to take in. She was moaning loudly. He bent down and kissed her lips. That shut her up.

They reached their peak together. He gathered her clothes and helped her get dressed. Belynda blew him a kiss. She stared at his retreating back and turned her heel to leave. They would see each other again. That's for certain. After all, he was Cindy's boyfriend.

12/24/19

Isang oras na lamang ang itatakbo at magha-hatinggabi na. Bagama't panahon ng Kapaskuhan, hindi magawa ni Ela na maging masaya nang buo. Hanggang ngayon kasi ay hindi pa niya binubuksan ang portal ng kanilang eskwelahan. Natatakot siya.

Batid ni Ela na sa nakalipas na mga buwan, palakol siya sa eksam. Kung hindi sapat na tutuntong sa eksaktong hinihinging iskor ay sobrang baba naman ang kanyang nakukuha. Nalulula tuloy siya sa mga kaklase na panay tatlong digits ang mga marka. Noong mga nakaraang araw lang ay sabik na inabangan ng mga ito ang pag-a-update ng mga propesor. Naging maingay ang group chat sa kabila't kabilang padala ng mga mensahe ng papuri at pasasalamat.

Tanging si Ela lang yata ang hindi naglakas ng loob na tingnan ang pinagmumulan ng kaguluhan. Naduwag siya. Ikinakatakot niya na madala siya ng matinding emosyon. Nangangamba na hindi kayanin ang pait na hatid ng pagkatalo.

Hindi pa man nagsisimula ang bakasyon, napagpasyahan niya na na sa Bagong Taon siya titingin. Ayos na sana, pero ilang gabi na siyang hindi nakakatulog nang matiwasay. Panibagong dagok kay Ela ang madalas na pangyayaring ito, kung kaya'y minabuti niyang bisitahin ang mga kaibigan noong hayskul. Nakipagkuwentuhan siya. Ngunit sa halip na makatulong ay nadagdagan lamang ang kanyang mga iniisip. Gatong kasi ng mga ito na huwag na raw siyang mag-alala kasi papasa naman siya.

At heto siya ngayon, nagdadalawang-isip: sa Enero o ngayon na ba? Isang mabigat na hininga ang pinakawalan ni Ela.

Kung sa Enero pa, dadaan muna ang marami pang gabi na katulad nito. Kung ngayon, mabibigyang-kasagutan na ang mga katanungang bumabagabag sa kanyang pag-idlip.

Bumalikwas siya ng bangon. Hinarap ang laptop.

Ika nga, "The truth shall set you free." Manlumo man siya sa madadatnang numero, ay nawa'y palayain naman siya nito.

Tinipa niya ang pook-sapot ng pamantasan.

"Bahala na," ang wika sa sarili.

#TinTakot (October 31, 2019)

Malalim na ang gabi. Lumalalim na rin ang iyong paghinga. Dinig mo ang langitngit ng binubuksang pinto; lalo naman ang malakas na kalabog ng iyong puso.

Mag-isa ka lang. Ngayon mo gustong pagsisihan kung bakit hindi ka kumuha ng kwartong pangdalawahan. Naririnig mo ang mga yabag...papalapit...sa kama...kung saan mismong naroroon ka.

Unti-unti kang umusal ng dasal. Mahigpit mong pinagdaop ang iyong mga palad, na para bang hindi mo pa nagagawa sa tanang buhay mo. Walang tanglaw ang sulok ng iyong silid. Pasimple kang humiling ng himala...na sana magka-ilaw. Kung paano? Ewan. Basta lang para naman maibsan ang takot mo kahit konti.

Nakatalukbong ka ng kumot. Nakikiramdam ka sa mga mabibigat na hakbang na kaytagal yatang dumating. Sa iyong isip, nakaguhit na ang kahindik-hindik mong katawan na dadatnan na lang kinabukasan.

Walang anu-ano'y huminto ang mga yabag. Wari mo'y tumigil ang mga paa, sa mismong paanan mo pa. Nilakasan mo ang iyong mga dasal. Mahabag sana ang Panginoon sa tulad mong makasalanan.

Pasimpleng hinawi ng kung sino mang kamay ang kumot. Pakiramdam mo'y humiwalay na yata ang kaluluwa mula sa iyong pisikal na katawan. Nakapikit ka. Wala kang nais malaman ang itsura. Biglang hinila ng malamig na kamay ang iyong mga braso. Ika'y napaupo. Patuloy ka pa rin sa pagdadasal. Humalakhak ang demonyo.

"Gelsano," ang wika. Teka, ang boses...pamilyar. Sino kaya ito? Minulat mo ang iyong mga mata. Madilim man ay pinilit mong inaninag kung sino ba ang nananakot sa iyo.

Napasigaw ka na lang sa pinagsama-samang gulat, mangha at sindak. Ngumiti ang propesor na ayaw mong pangalanan. Sa noo nito'y nakaimprenta ang numerong singko.

Wakas

KIAT: A Fiction (May 11, 2019)

KIAT: A Fiction

Lunes.

Unang araw ng pasukan, wala kang mukhang ihaharap. Walang sumipot na ka-grupo mo noong Sabado at Linggo, hindi mo natapos ang proyekto. Naiinis ka na. Huwag lang silang magkamaling magmakaawa, may masisinghalan ka.

Pero sa entrada ng eskwela, siya ang bumungad sa 'yo.

"Good morning, Yel."

Bati nga ng taong ito.

Napipi ang mukha mong susugod sana ng g'yera. Tila naging maamo kang kuting, ang mukha ay may bakas ng saya.

"Morning."

Halos sampalin at kurutin mo ang sarili mo nang sabay. Sampal, dahil dapat galit ka at hindi masaya. Kurot, para makumpirang totoong bumati siya.

At naghiwalay na nga kayo ng landas. Tumuloy ka sa inyong silid, ngiting-ngiti, hindi alintana ang mga kaklase mong hindi magkamayaw sa mga proyektong hindi pa nasisimulan. Nag-agahan ka lang, pero ang enerhiya mo ngayong Lunes ay hanggang hapunan.

The Graduate (April 30, 2019)

"Anak…'nak? Get up.”

Roben feels an incessant tapping on his shoulder. The crow of the neighborhood rooster tells him it is just four in the morning. How could his tatay wake him up in such early hour? Slowly, he goes back to sleep.

“'Ben, sige na. You must bathe,” his father prods. Roben lets out a yawn. He finally gives in. Stares into space. Sighs. Pushing himself to a sitting position, he deliberates how to start the day half-awake.

Downstairs, his tatay is a busy bee. On his one hand he holds a shirt he has ironed the night before, on the other a keypad phone pressed to his ear. Roben opens his mouth to ask who he is calling; the voice on the other line gives it away. The loudspeaker blasts on. Hammers his eardrum. Hammering his heart.

“I told you Roberto, I can’t go.”

“Please, Ermita. Today’s graduation day. You can’t miss it.”

“Sorry, I can’t. Shake Roben’s hand for me. He did a right thing for once.”

Tatay puts down the phone. He puts down the shirt. He stares at him. He stares hard. His eyes follow poor Tatay; he brushes a teardrop cascading to his wrinkled cheek. He smiles. A smile of pity. He shoos Roben to polish off a breakfast of pancit canton and poached eggs. And smiles again.

In the school grounds, all is rowdy. All but Roben. He looks around. He observes the crowd. Girls with heavy make-up; the emcee spouting words with spit. He looks at his companion. It has been the two of them all those years─his tatay and he. How could he stay sulking from this man? Roben smoothens the toga’s creases. Tatay heaves a long sigh.

“Don’t worry 'nak."

His voice is hoarse.

“I won’t soil it, so it shall be as good as new when you wear this next year.”

Roben playfully slaps his arm. “Save it for the parents’ tribute, Tay.”

They then hold hands. With soaring hearts, they walk towards the aisle of budding dreams. The march plays.

Ngulila (March 30, 2019)

Tatlong taon na pala ang nakararaan. Masayang ginugunita ni Celso ang mga alaala habang patuloy siyang idinuduyan ng mga ito. Kasalukuyang nakaupo siya sa silyang tumba-tumba sa veranda ng kanilang bahay. Mula sa kinauupuan, natatanaw niya ang mangilan-ngilang bata na naglalaro ng patintero sa kalye. Dati ay dadalawa silang nagmamasid sa tanawin sa labas. Ngayon ay siya na lamang ang naroroon.

"Ang sarap pakinggan ng tawanan nila," ang sasabihin sana ni Rosing kung nandirito pa ito.

"Oo, pawang mga musmos at walang pakialam sa mundo," ang pagsang-ayon niya.

Pagkatapos, sabay silang bubuntong-hininga, magtitinginan at tatawa. Pero nasa isipan na lamang ni Celso ang lahat ng iyon. Tatlong taon na mula nang mamaalam si Rosing. Tatlong taon na rin simula nang magkulong siya sa loob ng bahay at tumangging makipag-usap ninuman. Naging bingi siya sa sermon ng kaniyang mga anak na sa kalaunan ay sumuko na sa tigas ng kaniyang ulo.

"Ayoko na ng patintero, habulan naman tayo," dinig ni Celso.

"Huwag 'yan. Ang bilis n'yong tumakbo i," pagmamaktol ng isang bata.

"O sige, taguan na lang. Geym?"

Tila ang pagtango ng mga paslit ang hudyat ng laro. Kaniya-kaniyang hanap ang mga kasapi ng mapagtataguan. Naalala ni Celso noong minsang nanood sila ni Rosing at may batang pumasok sa kanilang bakod upang doon magtago. Humiling pa ito sa dalawang matanda na huwag ipagsasabi sa iba. Tatlong minuto ang inabot noon ng taya para hanapin ang makulit na kalaro.

"Tingnan mo, Rosing. Walang pinagbago dito," bulong ni Celso, pagkuwa'y inilipat ang tingin sa katabing tumba-tumba kung saan umuupo dati ang maybahay. "Wala, maliban sa wala ka na."

Ngunit sino ang niloloko ni Celso, kung sa bawat sulok ng kanilang tahanan ay may bakas ng namayapa niyang asawa.

Binusog niya ang paningin sa abot ng kaniyang tanaw. Pinakinggan niya ang mga halakhak at hiyaw ng kabataan. Sa kabilang dako ng buhay, hindi siya natutuwang mapaglaruan ng Tadhana.

"Handa na ako."

Ilang sandali pa ay nakapikit na ang kaniyang mga mata.