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I wasn’t supposed to..

I wasn’t supposed to wake up like this.

I was supposed to wake up to shivers and longing for my blanket, my body splashed all over the bed. I was supposed to see the blinding light of the sun as it painted my room, since I once again forgot to close the curtain last night. I was supposed to wake up to an empty kitchen, void of anything healthy and warm. I was supposed to see empty pizza boxes and a million and one take out boxes and food that I didn’t recognise. I was supposed to open the TV and watch it all day long, with nothing better to do. Then at night I’d bury myself with work, not allowing myself to think for a moment of why the hell did I forget to lock the door, but I was too lazy to get up. I was supposed to fall asleep with the curtains open again, staring onto my window. I’d count stars that twinkle at night, till I fall asleep to a constant tossing and turning.

But today, I didn’t.

Today I woke up to the warmth of a soft skin brushing against mine. I woke up to the sound of giggles as someone brushed their nose with mine. I woke up to the sound of her laugh, as we both fell off the bed. I woke up to the sun directly looking at me, her brown eyes shinning as there’s that pause when you think, This is perfect. I woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs, waiting patiently on my computer desk. My kitchen is now filled with a variety of food, most of them organic. The TV was now untouched, only used for those Tuesday movie nights where she’ll sob at the sight of Channing Tatum suited up for war, but will snuggle up against me. Work was more productive, with only the distraction of her lips as she craves for attention every once and a while. We fell asleep talking to each other like teenagers, murmuring jokes, the sheets tangled up around our bodies. The curtain was now closed, so I didn’t get to see the stars. But I knew, right here, I had one of my own.

I’m never waking up to a day without her.

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And I’m just, ugh. I got this story written at like 5 in the morning when I was supposed to be studying. Someday I’d wake up with my future husband beside me, and he’d never want to sleep alone ever again too.

Blind date

I woke up with a heart ache and a massive pile of tear soaked tissues.

Not the best way to wake up, but when your boyfriend got delayed in coming home again, crying all night can become a habit. Especially when you haven’t seen each other for more than a year.

I remembered his pained face when he told me that his study contract had to be extended. He was graduating from his masters, and his professor made him stay two more months so my boyfriend could “tweak” his thesis. He was frustrated and homesick-just like me. He has always been my home, no matter where he was. And I was his.

Thank God for modern technology, the way I could see him every night and hear his voice like he was just beside me. But technology could only do so much.

I couldn’t feel his warmth, they way his breath would tickle my ear when he hugged me from behind. The way his nose would brush mine just before he kissed me. The way he’d hold my hand when we crossed the street like a kid, and he’d never let go at once. His hands would just linger its touch, sometimes with his thumb brushing mine.

I missed his unfunny jokes, the way he’d make me laugh over the most stupid things. I missed the way he never stopped singing so badly when I tried to ignore him, knowing that soon I’d give attention to him anyway.

I hated being so far from him, and I felt like we were growing apart.

Sometimes the thoughts would run in my head wildly like forest fire.

What if he was different now?

What if I wouldn’t recognise who he is in the inside anymore?

What if he’d thought that I was different?

I can’t imagine how I feel around him anymore. What if everything was different now?

Sometimes I secretly wished he stayed where he was, just so we wouldn’t get awkward when we meet again.

What if he didn’t love me anymore?

We haven’t talked in two weeks since he had to concentrate on his thesis. Endless days of overthinking and crying and hoping to see him again.

One night my friends wanted to get me out of my funk, and tried to coax me into going to a blind date. After refusing a lot of times, I gave in, with the promise of telling him about it.

My friends blind folded me, saying it was the whole point of having a blind date. They led me somewhere I didn’t know, made me turn around three times, then made me sit down. I took off my blind fold and there he was, in a suit and tie, smiling like an idiot. There was white pasta in front of both of us, and a candle at the side.

“Hi.” He whispered.

“Hi.”

“I’m Ken. You’re Kelly right? Your friends were right, you are very pretty.”

I couldn’t help but smile as he played on with the “blind date”

“You look pretty handsome too.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do this in person, but will a flying kiss do?”

“I don’t kiss on a first date.”

“Will a handshake do?”

He extended his arm out, and I reached for it.

I held in a tear as I pretended to shake his imaginary hand, and he did the same. The screen between us felt like we were boxed, yet he smiled at me brightly.

“Nice to meet you Kelly.”

“Nice to met you too Ken.”

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Not so good, I know. I’ve been in this funk when I can’t write because my meds make me sleepy. Bugger.
Original, all mine, and fiction.

The one who was always left

They leave.

They always do.

Whether they’d leave tomorrow or the next day, they leave. No one cares enough about me more than I do. Heck, I sometimes want to leave myself if I could. I always roam around life, with a lot of masks, a lot of faces. Sometimes I look in the mirror and I don’t even recognise myself. They all say I’m afraid of commitment. But I’m really not.

I’m just afraid of being left behind.

Sometimes they have a reason why they do it. They make up stories how we could never work out, or that they found someone else. They’s be sweaty and fidgety when they tell me, trying to tell me that they had a great time. They’d try to make me feel better, telling me how beautiful my hair is, or how smart I am.

The worst are those who don’t explain. Everything is happy one day, and then suddenly they don’t have the balls to tell you it’s over. You just stare at your phone whole day, wishing it would come alive all of the sudden. You throw your phone across the room when it’s a spam text, or you don’t answer your mother’s calls because he might call.

But in the end you know, all of them will leave.

Until he came along.

At first I never wanted to believe he existed. But the more I pushed him away, the more he wanted to be with me. He made me believe in fairytales, the once I puked over when I was a little kid. There was something different about him, they way he said my name, they way he held my hand, the way he kissed me. I found myself getting annoyed of his texts, and he texted me all the time.

“Karen.”

He’d text.

“I’m outside your window. Open up.”

But I don’t. I don’t let anyone in anymore.

He’d just wait outside my window, sometimes all through the night. Then I’d hear him talking to his mom, making him go home. He’d always leave a rose on the window sill, and it always smells better in the morning.

But one day, the roses stopped.

The texts stopped.

And when I was yearning for him for some reason, I found myself sitting in front of a gravestone.

Left alone, once again.

————————————————-
Fiction, originally written by yours truly.

My chocolate

I was thinking about him again.

I knew I really shouldn’t, especially since he loved to tease me that he can’t fall asleep with me thinking of him all night.

But something about him, I don’t know what, drives me crazier than chocolate. And that’s saying something. I love chocolate; dark, white, melted or frozen, but he’s..more.

Like when he holds my hand, sweaty and all, I sometimes forget which was mine and which was his. Like Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle. I don’t know why I held the hands of other guys before when he made me feel like this.

And when he met my parents, oh gosh, I thought I was going to die. My dad kept asking where his parents worked, and I knew that he was poor. But I smiled when he stood up in the middle of dinner when dad asked again.

“With all due respect sir, I know my family is poor. But we work hard for what we have, and that’s how we like things. Grime and all. My father is a construction worker, my mother a maid. But I’d never exchange them for anyone.”

He sat back down, trying to keep his cool. But I was the only one who saw his shaking hands. By the end of the night, my dad patted his back and told him that he’d love to see him more often.

I groan as I turn around and face my pillow, trying to hide my squeal. When he was leaving that night I walked him out like a proper lady, and leaned it to kiss his cheek. But at the same time he was leaning to kiss my other cheek, and we ended up kissing. Kissing.

I knew my mom was peeking, especially when I heard her squeal, but I was already a goner. He smiled in surprise, and kissed my forehead after. He left sparks that made my tummy feel so queasy that I couldn’t sleep that night, and the next morning he complained about not getting enough sleep cause I was thinking of him.

But deep inside I knew, he was thinking about me too.

I bit my lip to hold back a laugh when I saw my phone lighting up, his shocked face on the wallpaper. He complained all day about the flash on my camera being in the way of his eyesight all day, but he let me kiss his eyes in the end anyway.

“Hello?” I whispered. I knew I would be in so much trouble if my parents knew I was still up this late, but I couldn’t help it, he was addictive.

“You’re thinking about me again.” He says, his voice having that hint of smile that made me feel all giddy inside.

“You’re hard not to think of.”

I began to have these sensations all of the sudden, the same ones whenever he was near. It left me feeling like I had the best chocolate in the world.

“Go to sleep already.” He tried to say with a serious tone, but came out with a chuckle.

“But how?”

“I’d give you chocolate tomorrow. A whole bag of them.”

“Okay goodnight!”

I turned off my phone and closed my eyes tight, trying to fall asleep. Maybe I still loved chocolate more than him after all.

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Fiction, written by me and nobody else but me. <3

(Plagiarise this and you’ll be digging your own grave. [dun.dun.duuuuuun])
This post only made me crave for chocolates, which I couldn’t UNFORTUNATELY have because I have asthma. Huff.

Thirty minutes

“Our valued costumers. The store is about to close in thirty minutes. Please be guided accordingly.”

Despite the overhead warning, I walked aimlessly in the mall. I had time to kill before my boyfriend met with me outside the mall anyway. I glanced at the familiar stalls, my hands swaying beside me. I began to count all the little cracks on the walls, and how many lights flickered. It was surely an old mall, one that stood since I was a kid.

I thought about my life, the way I never seem to get a break. I was stuck in the cliché dead end job, with the same boyfriend since high school. I was soon to turn to quarter of a century year old, and yet I had the enthusiasm of an eighty-year-old woman who saw death coming near.

A small hand slipped through mine, lacing their small fingers with mine. I immediately stopped walking, and looked at the little kid. She smiled at me, her yellow headband almost falling from her head.

“Where’s your mom?” I asked her, crouching down to her little height. She was about three or four, her dimples showing as she smiled again.

“Mommy.”

She pointed at my nose, and repeated saying “Mommy” two more times. She even covered her eyes then said “Mommy” when she uncovered them.

I looked around for anyone looking for a kid, feeling sorry for the mother who lost her little girl. No one seemed to be looking, so I led her to the costumer service counter.

“I think this girl is missing.”

The woman looked over the counter to look at the kid, who only waved at her.

“Ma’am, you had this kid with you when you entered the store.”

My heart immediately froze, as I turned my head toward the kid. It was only then when I noticed how she looked like me.

“You have twenty minutes before the mall closes ma’am. You should slowly make your exit.”

She smiled at the kid once again, before resuming to face her computer.

“Mommy.”

The kid began to pull me, but I was too dumbfounded to move.

Who was this kid?

And why did she look like me?

“Mommy. I pee.”

I let her lead me toward the bathroom. Halfway towards it she made me lift her up, which I robotically did so. She kissed my cheeks, making a cold shiver travel down my body.

“I wove you Mommy.”

She hugged me around my neck, as I got us near the bathroom.

“You have ten minutes before closing time ma’am.”

A saleswoman told me when she saw me going into the bathroom.

“The kid wants to pee. It would just be a moment.”

The saleswoman smiled when the kid began to wave at her as we entered the bathroom. I didn’t know what to do when we got in. I never wanted to be a mother ever since I could remember, so I awkwardly let the kid down to find a stall for her to pee in.

“Mooooommy.” She called out, pointing to one of the stalls.

There were empty stalls around us, and she wanted to use the one with the ‘out of order’ one. I remember it has been out of order for years.

“You use the other ones.” I told her.

She refused, pointing toward the stall again. When I told her no, she began to throw a tantrum.

“Mommy! I pee!”

I gave up and tried to open the stall, which was surprisingly unlocked. I felt the room grow colder when I saw the familiar surroundings of the stall. My hands were shaking when I saw oblong shaped meat like in the middle of the toilet bowl. I remembered the excruciating pain of removing a virus from my uterus. I remembered deciding to do it in a place where I never thought I’d go back again.

And when I saw the kid climbing on the toilet bowl and waving at me as she turned to blood, I blacked out.

“Valued costumers, the store is closing. Please exit the mall immediately.”

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Boo! Scared yet? Fiction is love!

The Perfect Christmas

Curses were exchanged, followed by screaming and pointing of fingers. My heart lurches to the ground, my small box that I wrapped myself feeling like a hundred pounds. He began to throw her a look, a disgusted one, something I was used to seeing. He began to blame her for all his problems, as I shivered outside our house.

Snow began to fall, the white flakes sticking to the tears that have managed to escape my eyes. I turned around, walking aimlessly toward nowhere. The neighborhood was quiet, and inside you’d see families together, sharing meals and gifts. Everything felt like a stupid trick, one I was not willing to play in. I began to think why some people were blessed with children but treated them like a curse. Why someone was blessed with a family to go home to, yet acts as if they have nothing at all. It was a twisted world, and no one seemed to notice.

“Back so soon?” A man said as soon as he saw me.

In the middle of my musings I got as far as the town, where the shops were closing.

“I want to return this.”

I showed him the small box, something I once hoped was a symbol that we might act like a family again.

“You can’t return that little lady. Not when you’ve already wrapped it.” He pointed out. I huffed, feeling dismayed that I can’t even get my money back for something that made me feel useless. I began to walk away, hoping that by now they would be asleep.

“Hey. If it really means something to you, we can unwrap it.” He called out. I turned around to meet a kind smile, something I haven’t seen in a long time. He opened the door for me, and turned the lights on. The buzzing of the lights soon filled my ears, as we began to walk through the aisle of his store.

“Let’s see what we got here shall we?” He said, taking a seat at the cashier’s booth. He took the box from me, delicately opening the tape and wrapper.

“Can’t I just take the money and go?” I said impatiently.

“Hold on. We have to make sure that it’s all in one piece.” When he finally got to the box, he opened it and peered into it. “Ah. A snow globe. For the boyfriend I suppose?” He was smiling at me, and something in me wanted to just look away.

“Look. It’s in one piece. Can I go?” I began to gather my things, not caring about how many lunches I had to skip to save for the gift.

“It’s a blizzard out there. You sure you want to leave?” Surely enough, the snow began to fall in a steady pace, making it hard to look at anywhere. “I can make you hot cocoa.”

I couldn’t resist the offer, especially since I haven’t eaten since yesterday.

“Thank you.” I said. The warmth of the cup was most welcome, as my teeth were clattering with the cold. I held it towards my face, letting the steam heat my cheeks. It was served in one of those decorative cups, with whipped cream on top.

“Here’s a seat.” He pulled out a chair from behind the counter, and placed it beside me. “And your 50 dollar return.” He placed the money beside my arms, and I smiled at him in silent thanks.

Silence soon covered us, like a blanket of warm solitude and comfort. It was alien to me, yet I liked the feeling of sitting across someone who didn’t pull you down.

“I guess you can’t go home yet. The road is covered in snow.” He commented after a while.

I felt relieved, cause now I had a reason not to go home immediately. “I’m sorry if you didn’t make it home because of me.”

“It’s alright. Better actually. I live alone, so it’s nice to have someone to be with on a Christmas night.” He took a sip of his drink, humming in appreciation of the taste.

“So where are you from?” He asks. My mind wanders to our house, if it was now silent or still echoing with voices full of venom.

“Four blocks from here. The one with the red roof. You?”

“Just upstairs. It’s mighty lonely there.”

I nodded, not knowing how to continue the conversation. My cup was halfway through when he asked something I hoped to never have to answer.

“Why did you return the gift? You bought it like two hours ago. I saw how you wrapped it outside my store.”

I simply shrugged though, knowing that I didn’t have to answer that to a stranger.

“Can I go now? The weather seems to be letting up.”

He nodded, and soon he was closing shop. “If you want another cup of cocoa, you know where to go.” He said as we parted ways.

I made my way home, dreading to see them still fighting. When I got near enough, I peaked at their window. They were still at it, bickering like a couple of inmates. They haven’t even noticed that their dear daughter hasn’t come home yet. I began to run away, as fast as my feet could carry me. I needed to talk to someone, anyone. I found myself again in front of the store, just as he was going up to what he mentioned as his apartment.

“Hey!” I called. He turned around, and he smiled when he saw that it was me. “Want to spend Christmas with someone over a hot cocoa?”

He walked down the stairs, and inserted his key to the shop. “I sure would.”
—————-
Fictiooooon! Merry Christmas!

Love in the time of Haiyan

Here are short love stories that have been passed by the mouth. They are real stories about Taclobanons during and after the storm. I have written them in the character’s perspective, making it sort of fiction yet the gist of the story is still there.

Swept away

As the flood water entered our house, I could hear the muffled cries of my kids upstairs. My wife and I were up on a table, trying to save as much furniture as we could. She passed me the DVD player while I carried it upstairs. We did this as fast as we could, the water looking like it would be at knee level. The wind roared outside, and I could feel my ears going deaf because of how strong it was.

“Check on the kids honey. Antonio may be hungry.” My wife said, painting a smile on her face. I nodded, and kissed her on the cheek.

“Antonio? Leah? Are you kids okay?” I said as I climbed the last step of the stairs.

“Papa! The water is entering our room!” Leah panicked, hugging my waist tightly. I made my way to their room, and sure enough water was slowly getting into the room because of their shattered window.

“Get into the master’s bedroom now!” I bellowed.

“Where’s Mama?” Antonio asked, his eyes wet with tears.

I ran towards the stairs as fast as I could. The water was rushing in with the wind ushering it, our door broken in half. I looked onto the spot where I left her, looking for that reassuring smile that could lift spirits. But what I only saw water raging our house with gusto.

That’s when I realized, she was gone.

Looking for her

I smiled when I woke up because I knew I’d find her today.

Left and right I would see debris and fallen trees as I made my way towards Tacloban. People were walking beside me, like zombies looking for brains. There were zipped up bodies everywhere, and my heart wretched at the possibility that she could be in one of them.

“Noel! You’re alive!” Julio made his way towards me, a smile on his face. He gestured to give me a hug, but I shook my head.

“I’m looking for Leila. Have you seen her? She said she was going back.”

Julio shook his head, then gave me a pat on the back before leaving. The streets were becoming unrecognizable because of the missing buildings as I made my way towards downtown. Some people were crying as they carried dead bodies, and some people had blood trickling down their leg. When I was near the church, I saw her walking towards the gate.

“Leila! Leila!” I grabbed her shoulder, which made her jerk towards me. “Where have you been?”

“Who are you?”

It turned out that it wasn’t her. I said my apologies to the woman, then began to look for her again. As the sun made its way down, I felt dismayed I didn’t find her, but tomorrow is always another day. When I saw my house I saw a newly dug grave beside it. I felt enraged that someone would bury their dead beside my house, so I marched towards the grave and intended to pull out the body. There was a cross on top of it, with a writing on it.

“Leila Montenegro”

A thousand memories flashed, the last one showing how I buried her lifeless body beside the house. I began to cry hysterically, thrashing out on her grave. Five neighbors carried me towards the house, the floors filled with mud and rain water. I thanked them, and soon fell asleep.

When morning came, I smiled to myself. I’m going to find her today.

Almost Saved

When I woke up, I saw water slowly making its way to my room. Panic began to surge through my veins, as my laptop that I placed on the floor began to float. I instantly grabbed it, along with my other things and climbed the top of the bunk bed. I don’t know why I didn’t wake up when the storm started, as the wind seemed to be roaring to make its presence known. Since I lived in the dorm room all by myself, no one could have warned me. Haiyan began to whistle, like a scary movie about to take me.

“Help! Help!” I screamed, trying to get the attention of the others.

The lights were off, making matters worse. My window was already shattered into pieces, and outside I could see the water rushing onto houses with force. I cringed when I saw one of the roofs flying through the sky, along with big leaves from coconut trees. The water below me began to rise, but I had no way out. Who knows how deep the water is on the first floor. I began to call out to the others again, but no one seemed to answer. I began to worry about my dorm-mates who lived in the first floor, who were heavy sleepers like me.

When I looked at the mirror that I hung on my wall, I saw my swollen eyes and red nose. I remembered how I broke up with Mike last night, with things getting nasty. I felt my eyes began to tear up again, as there was a chance that I might never see him again. Though I hated his guts, he was still my first love.

“Katy! Katy!” I must have been hallucinating, because I knew I heard his voice. “Katy where are you?”

My heart began to beat hysterically, threatening to leap out of my chest. The water was about waist level now, and I knew no one could survive coming here. Especially if they came for me. I soon saw a flashlight come through the bottom of my door as it reflected onto the water.

“Mike! I’m in my room! Mike, I’m here!” The door flung open, and revealed a very soaked version of my supposedly ex boyfriend. The water was at his stomach level, and with the door open it made the water rise faster.

“Come on Katy! Everyone is on the third floor!” I was about to jump onto his open arms when the water began to rise to his chest. His eyes widened, and he climbed up next to me. I immediately hugged him, forgetting for a moment that this guy was a jerk. The water continued to rise as we backed up against the wall, the cold wind entering the room. My teeth began to clatter, so he hugged me tighter.

“Some rescue huh?” He said, his voice reverberating in his chest. When I looked up he was smiling at me like an idiot, and I jokingly punched his arm. The storm still raged outside, and the water was now almost near the second bunk bed.

“What if we die here?” I asked, my voice small.

“Then I’d be happy I died with you.”

That was the last thing I heard him say, before flood water from our window came gushing in, filling my lungs with water. My hand grabbed his with all my strength, before I blacked out.

——————————————–
The last story was inspired by someone telling me about people finding a body of a male and female holding hands and frozen. May all of the souls in these stories rest in peace.

6 word stories

Following the mighty footsteps of Ernest Hemingway who wrote a story with six words for a bet worth ten dollars (the story is found here) , I have put my writing skills to the test. I have written ten stories with six words,some of them an inspiration from a movie, since unlike Hemingway my life hasn’t been that dramatic. Enjoy!

He cheated. She won the lottery.
A wedding. “Bridal march” never played.
He died. She could see him.
His leg snapped. Best selling book.
After years of waiting, “I do.”
Years of writing. Pen finally breaks.
Unsinkable ship. Love frozen in time.
The basketball player. Rejected by bookworm.
She loves him. He loves Luke.
A funeral. Five wives. Eighteen children.

The mirror’s presage

An abrupt pain causes me to look at my arm, and I stealthily swat the buzzing culprit away. My groggy eyes look up, the eerie silence slowly creeping up to me. It was almost like those cowboy movies were there was a whistle of wind blowing the sand and a tumbleweed would pass by. Except in my reality the wind was caused by a fan blowing very fast(the controls were broken) that it would actually better if I turned it off, and the tumbleweed was the unopened envelopes that were blown by the fan.

I stand up for the fourteenth time since the office closed at eight, and to be honest I thought I was going to lose some weight after standing up for so many times and picking up runaway envelopes. But when I sit back down my belly just protruded itself. I sigh, and I return to sorting out the envelopes. I glance at the clock, and I groan when I see that it has only been two hours since I started. I reach for another parchment, and I notice that it had something heavy inside it. I felt curious, knowing that people rarely sent letters with objects in it. I look around, and I mentally slap myself. No one was here. I’m alone. Very slowly, and clumsily if I may add, I opened the brown covered parchment. I heard a jingle as I reached my hand into it.

“Joel.”

I heard a soft whisper, and my heart beats louder. A million thoughts rushed into my head, the one dominating was someone caught me.

“Joel.”

I hear it again, and goosebumps erupt all over my body. After a few moments everything becomes quiet again, and I gulp down hard then I take out the object from the package. When I look at it, I see my own reflection. For a moment I felt my soul leave my body, but then I realized it was a mirror with a small key chain. I understood where the jingling sound came from, but it still didn’t explain why I heard someone call my name.

“Joel.”

A buff voice called, and I almost dropped the mirror. I shakily looked around, and I sighed to myself thinking that after 5 years of working here every night alone, it was only now that I was imagining things. I shake the feeling off, but then I hear it again. And my eyes widened when I realized where the sound came from.

“Joel.”

With shaky hands, I hold the mirror. I turn it around, and I felt my heart stop for a moment. My reflection, if it was my reflection, was staring right at me. My jet black hair became all white, and I wrinkles that were never there. But that didn’t freak me out. No. It was the fact that my eyes were rolled over my head, so that it only showed the white part. There was blood currently dripping from my nose. My mouth was open, my teeth cracked. And the creepiest part? The blood came out of the mirror and was dripping on my khaki pants. Just when I was about to look away, a haunted laugh rang through the silent office.

“Joel. Silly Joel. You’re stuck here forever.”

The reflection moved it lips, although it’s pupils were still missing and the nose hasn’t stopped bleeding.

“Someday Joel, you’ll look like this.”

I slam the mirror unto my cubicle wall, and it smashed into pieces. Another laugh echoed, and in horror I saw one of the pieces of the broken mirror sticking into my arm. I slowly remove it, closing my eyes as I endured the pain. But when I opened my eyes, I only saw the dead mosquito I have killed only minutes ago. I cold chill ran up my spine, and I see the parchment in front of me, unopened. I hurriedly got my coat and caught a cab home.

The next day, a package arrived.

Yesterday’s tragedy

A broken heart. A mind-bending twist. A story better left untold.

I looked around at the shattered pieces of my mom’s wedding vase. I couldn’t help but cry, and I see blood flow from me. I was trying to remember what got me here, and my head ached and suddenly I blacked out. It wasn’t the best state to be found in, but that’s how John found me. Half dead, blood everywhere, and broken glass surrounding me.

A forgotten promise. A subconscious pain.

“Katy,are you okay?”

his voice echoed through my brain, as my eyes fluttered open. An undeniable scent of air freshener filled the air, and the walls were plain white. I tried to move my right hand, then I realized that I was hooked on to something.

“Jo-John?” I managed to mutter.

He immediately let out a sigh, and held my left hand tightly. He stood up to call the doctor, and went back in. I felt a pang of sharp pain on my stomach, and as the pain subsided, the doctor came in. He wore a foolish smile, as he saw me awake.

“Mrs. Katy Jones. I see you’re awake now.”

I squeezed John’s hand as I felt another pang of pain.

“You’re stomach?”

The doctor asked, and I nodded immediately.

“It seems like your baby is still twisting knots inside.”

My heart dropped. I felt blood rush to my head. Baby?!

“I forgot to congratulate you by the way, you’re eight weeks pregnant.” The doctor continued.

I felt like fainting again. A BABY?! That’s when I remembered. John isn’t supposed to be here. He’s the devil who put me in this state in the first place. He has to leave before-

“Oh, and Mr. Jones, please do take care of your wife. This accident shouldn’t happen again.” The doctor concluded and finally, he left.

A beautiful lie. An ugly truth.

“John, I can DO this. Leave me alone already.”

He kept helping me with my breakfast like I’m some retard.

“Stop it okay? Go home.”

I gave him a sharp look, and I continued eating on my own.

“For pete’s sake Katy! Let me at least help you with something! I don’t want to be a useless father!” His voice echoed through the room, and I couldn’t help but feel a little scared.

“You’re not useless,” I finally said. “I just hate it here. That’s all. I want to get out already.”

I lay down my bed and started to sob. I hate crying. Especially in front of jerks like John.

“Jeez Katy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scream at you like that.”

I looked at him in the eye and asked “Do you really WANT this baby?”

He looked away, then finally said, “I’m not sure. But I want to be responsible for this kid. I want to take care of both of you.”

I felt rage creep into my skin, waiting secretly to be revealed. “We don’t NEED you.”

I turned away, not able to meet his eyes. He slammed the door behind him, leaving me to the sound of the AC buzzing.

An offered help. A beg for forgiveness.

My stomach ached throughout the month, and before each check up, I was scared that the doctor would say my baby is dead. I grew attached to the living creature lurking inside me, talked to “it” ever since I left the hospital. I had an appointment today after work, and I swear, my heart was racing when I reached for the door. When I peeped in to look at the doctor, I was surprised so see another person in, who beamed at me the minute our eyes met.

“Hello. You look surprised. I’m Doctor Jacobs. Doctor Kent went on a vacation for a month so I filled in for him.”

I slowly sat down and shook the stranger’s hand, unsure if I should trust my baby with this person.

“What can I do for you today?” He gave me a winning smile, and I only blinked at this.

“Well, I’m on a routine check up. Doc said that I had to come here every other week.” I tried not to look too comfortable, as he looked through my records.

“Well, let’s take a look at your baby shall we?” I lied down and pulled my blouse up, as the doctor scanned my baby.

“Well Ms. Kate, seems like your baby has a playmate.”

I looked at the screen and saw another head, 2 more hands and legs. I was shocked knowing I had twins, and it was hard to believe that I had 2 living things inside of me. I thanked the doctor, and gave him another handshake. He gave me that winning smile again before I closed the door.

Another life. Another hope.

When I got home, I was surprised to see John outside.

“Katy,you look, blooming.”

I smiled at him politely, and said “That’s what I get for having two kids at the same time.”

His jaw dropped to the floor as I got into the house.

“TWO?!” He exclaimed at me, wide eyed and shocked.

I sighed before saying, “Yes, two. Don’t bother even trying to help me, cause I’m going to raise them on my own.”

I walked past him and went to the kitchen, where he followed me. He ran his fingers through his hair as he went near me.

“Look Katy, I want to help you. You’re still married to me, technically. Anyway we’re just separated right?”

I looked at him straight in the eyes and said “I’ve already filed for the divorce papers, so you don’t have any right over these kids because they aren’t even born yet. You do not have a sense of responsibility over these children, nor will I ask you to. So leave me alone. You already left me once, you could do it again.”

I turned my back at him, and went up to my room. The moment I locked the door, I burst out crying, pained to see my soon-to-be-ex and soon-to-be-dad of my kids. He still has this effect on me, and I can’t move on easily knowing I’m carrying his genes inside me. The thought is nauseating. I heard the porch door click, and a moment later I hear him pull out the highway.

“There he goes babies.” I whisper to my stomach. “Daddy’s gone.”

2 new lives bloom. One intertwined with the other.

It’s been 9 months and 3 weeks since John left me. He didn’t even bother to call me even when I texted him that the babies were born. So I didn’t bother writing him down as a legal guardian on their birth certificates. The two boys were born in a beautiful May day, and my family supported me all the way.

Though I still lived in our apartment that I won in court, they visited me every other day, checking in on the twins and me. When I had to work my sister would come over and did her work at home to watch the kids. I was so thankful of my family, but slowly I felt like a burden to them.

My sister moved in after a month, and we both took charge of taking charge of the baby. Things went well until one night when her boyfriend asked her to marry him. She moved out, and I was left alone with two 3 year old boys. Joseph, the eldest, looked like his dad. Blue eyes, brown hair, and was just so hyper. Jonathan, took after me, quiet and timid, with blond hair. They were everything I had, and I cherished them both. I just hope that maybe someday, they would get to meet their dad. It may not be today, but maybe when they’re old enough to understand.

A life-threatening disease. A life, lost in the sands of time.

As I took my kids to a check up, I felt a headache. I got dizzy for a moment, but I recovered remembering I was driving with my two treasures in the front seat.

“Mama!” Joe said.

I looked at him briefly and asked, “Yes baby?”

He cutely pointed at me, and laughed. I didn’t know why, but I laughed with him. Nathan kept quiet as usual, and I know he’s nervous about going to the doctor.

“Nathan honey! Blow mommy a kiss!” I said, trying to cheer him up.

He put his hand on his mouth and kissed it and blew it to me. He smiled, just as we were parking at the hospital.

“Now you two behave ok? I’m giving you lollipops after the check up.”

They both beamed at the word, and sat down on the waiting room while I got their names listed. When I touched their foreheads to check if their fever went away, it was still very high. They were talking loudly though they were sick. When their names were called, they immediately bounced towards the clinic, and said hi to the doctor. I explained what was happening to them, what I’ve observed, and then took the boys’ temperatures.

“Ms. Kate, I suggest you let your kids take a blood and urinary exam. Also, you need to confine them already in the hospital as soon as possible”

My heart went crazy, afraid of what the doctor may say about the kids. But I did what he asked me to do, and got the twins a room in the hospital. They were both easily distracted by the TV that they didn’t mind when the nurses came in and took their blood. My family came and went, some stayed with me. The next day, the results were out. While my mother entertained the kids, I went out to talk with the doctor.

“Kate, I’m afraid my fear has been confirmed.”

A single cold sweat streamed down from my forehead, as I urged the doctor to go on.

“Both Joe and Nathan have Leukemia. The disease your father had has been passed down to them.”

Tears streamed down my face. I don’t want to go through losing someone to cancer, and now I have to loose two.

“Isn’t there a cure?Can’t they go through medication? Anything? Please. They’re all I have in this world.”

The doctor nodded, then left. The next few weeks dragged on, and I was getting tired. I want my kids off these IV’s and in my house safe and sound. But as days dragged on, the boys were getting weaker. The nurses say it was because of all the medication they’ve been getting, but a mother knows when she’s losing her own kid.

One day as I went down to the canteen to drink coffee, I saw a familiar face on the door. As he neared me, I recognized John, all bearded and yet still gorgeous.

“Hey Kate.”

That made me breakdown in a second, and he came rushing to me, comforting me.

“We can do this.” He said as he caressed my hair.

He then helped me up towards the kids’ room, and I introduced him as my friend to the kids. He immediately clicked with them, making them laugh. I’m sent into a daydream where we were an actual family. In a house, not a hospital. Just then, the doctor came in and asked for my audience. I gladly stepped out of the room, and patiently waited for the doctor to talk.

“I believe, that the children have reached their final stage. Neither any medication could help, and a bone marrow transplant is not applicable since there are no matches. I suggest you ready yourself to whatever may happen to them.”

I fainted in an instant, and I fell hopelessly to John’s arms. He was eavesdropping, and saw me fall. My children, my sweet boys.

A loss, a desperate attempt to ease the pain.

John stayed at the hospital for a few days, and I admit he began to grow on me. One night we decided to go out and get a drink, for old times sake, and to get away from all the drama at the hospital. We drank and danced a few, then we ended up in bed together. When I woke up I immediately rushed to the hospital, wanting to know how my kids were. When I arrived they were just given one of their medicines, and their faces lit up when they saw me.

“Mommy look! I wasn’t scared anymore when the doctor took my blood!” Joe exclaimed.

I smiled at him, remembering that I only had a few more moments to share with him. I went to their bed and hugged them both.

“Mommy, when are we going out? I miss all of my toys.” Nathan said as he hugged me tighter.

Then I got an idea. Since there wasn’t a way that they’d survive, maybe it was time to go home.

“Sure. Maybe tomorrow. Would you like that?”

He nodded his head enthusiastically. That’s it. We’re leaving tomorrow.

As the doctor gave his permission to let us go, I felt a sudden pang of regret. What if something happens to them at home that I couldn’t aid? But i needed to be strong. At least for the boys. John had volunteered to stay at home, and told the kids to pretend that he is their dad. The kids were happy enough, and I was happy too. He began to make me feel happy again, and most nights he did.

It wasn’t easy to cope with the fact that day by day the percentage that my kids are going to live decreases, but I had to hide my fears away. It just wouldn’t be fair to the kids. During the few weeks that we’ve been together as a “family”, the boys have been sent to and from the hospital everyday. We still didn’t have any bone marrow matches, but maybe there was still hope.

They grew weaker, and they were confined again after only 3 weeks of being at home. When they got weaker, they were subjected to life support, using a tube to give air to their lungs. It broke my heart whenever they wouldn’t respond, and I just couldn’t take in the fact that I was really losing my boys. “

This is it Kate. The last juncture for the boys. I believe we’ve done everything we could for them. You’d be the only one who could decide to pull the plug.”

The doctor said one afternoon. Pull the plug? What are my kids, a game? But as I look into their beds, I felt a strong pang of pain. They need rest. Tomorrow I’m going to do it. I set the time to 8am, and I asked the nurses to do it. End my kids’ life? I know I could never do it even if I wasn’t drugged. I spent hours just staring at my boys, recalling every moment I’ve ever shared with them. I’ve cried all night, till I fell asleep around 4am. And by the time I woke up it was too late, my boys were gone.

A new found life. A sanity lost.

“Kate, you have to make a speech for the boys now.”

My mom has been with me through the mourning, and she was the first I could call after the boys’ death. When I went upstairs I was staggering, no doubt from all the sleepless nights knowing I don’t have my boys anymore. I’ve been crying nonstop, and John stayed at my house through those nights. He also mourned for the boys, feeling a certain pang of regret of not spending more time with them.

By the time the burial was done, my head was foggy. I’ve been vomiting every morning for 3 days straight, and I haven’t got a lot of food in my stomach. I went home all by myself, telling John to go to his apartment. And that’s when I saw them. Pictures of the boys, their toys, their favorite pictures. I went crazy, throwing the stuff around. Some vases got broken, and I’ve got cuts everywhere.

My stomach hurt so bad, and I couldn’t stop crying. I’m all alone. I looked around at the shattered pieces of my mom’s wedding vase. I couldn’t help but cry, and I see blood flow from me. I was trying to remember what got me here, and my head ached and suddenly I blacked out. It wasn’t the best state to be found in, but that’s how John found me. Half dead, blood everywhere, and broken glass surrounding me.