6- Coffee

"I can't believe its starting already," Lean whispered to me. We've been in this room for a hour and in the next fifteen minutes, we'll be dismissed, just to walk to our next class, which unfortunately was in the other building. It was a five minute walk from here to the third floor of the next building, but we had enough time.

"You've said that for what? Thirty times already?" I whispered back, irritated but amused. Lean had the problem in shutting her mouth, maybe that's why she took Communications to be her major. She rolled her eyes to me and stuck her bottom lip when she turned to the front and to the professor again. I hid a chuckle with my fist.

"That would be the end of our first class. Remember to bring your class cards on Wednesday, and get your copies of your reading list in my mailbox at the department office." Miss Ruiz reminded us. She was our adviser for our whole stay in the university. She looked like around the age of Fay, in her early twenties. She's still young, and friendly. But there was something in her tone that was authoritative. I think it was of perfect quality.

I grabbed my bag and stood from my chair, dragging Lean in the process. The girl might be energetic as a kid, but she was undeniably slow. In the past two subjects before this, we've been the last ones to leave the room.

"Fine, fine, I'm going," Lean said in a huff. She walked to the door and I shook my head in her antics. I love Lean. She's my best friend, and she could make me smile. Even over simple things like her huffing.

Today was our first day in the university. It felt weird to step in our class without knowing anyone except Lean. I've been in my old school since grade school, which was a total of ten years all in all. This was new. Everything was new, but not shiny. It was rather old in my opinion. I'm indifferent about.

"Mira, right?" A voice called me from my behind. I stopped on my walk and turned around. Lean was at the door, arms crossed and frowning. "Yes?" I asked. He got my attention at the moment.

"Tristan," he said, extending his hand for me to shake. I looked at him, curiously before I accepted his hand. I figured there was nothing wrong with it. He was taller than me and I had to look up to his face when he talked. It was rude not to.

His eyes shined from what he was saying, but I wasn't listening. I was looking at his eyes and trying to analyze the quick show of emotions. It was rare for me to see someone's eyes like that, with the exemption of Lean. The girl was too open.

"Mira! We'll be late." Lean's voice pulled me out of my reverie. I blinked and looked at her. "A minute," I replied.

Tristan smiled to me softly and nodded. "I'm sorry but we really need to go." I said quickly, when I felt something in my hands. I realized that I involuntarily accepted while I was staring at him. It was my pen that slipped from my bag when I stood. "Thank you." I added.

He nodded and smiled. I jogged to Lean and was greeted with a knowing grin and a pinch on my forearm. "Who's that?" She whispered. I rolled my eyes to her  and opened my mouth to speak.

"Mira," he called again. We stopped on our tracks and looked at him. "Can we meet after your class?" he asked. I shared a look with Lean then nodded. "This is our last class." I answered. "The cafeteria in the Arts building?" I asked, and he nodded with a smile. I just noticed, his smile shone too.

"You need to tell me about that later," Lean muttered grinning as we climbed the stairs

"No, I don't think I will." I said readjusting my bag on my shoulder. "Unfair." She pouted, but dragged me to the room. "Fine, I'll ask him when we meet him." We had already reached our seats before I could respond.

***

 Stupid, stupid, stupid. I had vowed not to talk to anyone aside from Lean on my first day. I didn't like people. There was a time when I used to like them. Not anymore. I frowned as I zipped my bag shut and grabbed it, walking as fast as I could to the door. I didn't bother to wait for Lean. She wouldn't let me out of her sight too fast.

Especially now she knew about the guy I'm meeting with. Tristan was a nice guy, or should I say he cleaned up nice. His hair trimmed neatly, his clothes were pressed nicely, and he looked presentable without trying too hard. He carried himself nicely. He reminded me awfully of Dean.

"Mira wait!" Lean's voice boomed, I heard her heavy footsteps as she got closer. She ran to me apparently because once she got hold of my hand, I had to stumble back when she forced me to stop. Panting, Lean glared at me.

"Why are you walking fast?" She asked when she had caught up with her breath.

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You're eager to see pretty boy Tristan eh?" she teased, and I frowned. I'm not eager to meet him. I'm eager to have the meeting over as soon as possible. I couldn't tell Lean that or she would smack my head. She was pretty violent. I could tell it was her plan to get me another boyfriend after my break up with Dean.

"Whatever," I mumbled and continued walking down the stairs. The cafeteria was at the ground floor. It was a well ventilated area with its walls displaying an array of paintings from the Fine Arts students and alumni alike. At the far end of the room was the counter, the menu was displayed in an electric board above eye level. Tables for four littered the center of the room, leaving a feet distance between each other. It was a rather famous place for students from the looks of it. It was almost full. If not for Tristan, we might not be able to find a place to sit.

He waved at us when he saw us, and Lean dragged me to the table. It was the first table to the left facing the counter and two meters away from it. We weaved our way to him as he stood up and greeted us. His smile shone again as he did and I felt a bit guilty. This was why I didn't like meeting people. They were too nice for my liking.

"Hi," I said, nodding to him and pulling out a chair for me. I saw Lean rolled her eyes before she put her bag on the table beside me. "Well, I'm famished. I'll best order now." She took her wallet and asked me what would I get. "Lasagna," I said automatically. She nodded and left to the counter to get our food.

Silence filled our table when Lean left. Despite the chatter around us, it was awfully silent. I sighed and frowned. This would do well. It felt awkward than a first date. "So, why did you want to meet?" I ask conversationally, leaning on the back of my chair and smirking at him.

He seemed to be pulled out of his thoughts and his eyes shone again. He smiled to me before he answered. "I figured it would be nice to talk. We'll be classmates for the whole semester and probably the whole year." He shrugged.

"Okay," I said slowly. I didn't know what to ask next. I usually wasn't the first to strike a conversation. Lean approached me first when she first transferred in our school on our sophomore year in high school, Chris threw a note to me during our mid-year celebration after the exams that year too. I just answered to them as honest I could before I felt comfortable enough with them.

"Tristan Allen," he said inching closer to the table. "Do you like coffee?" he asked. I blinked at him rapidly and tried to hide my disconcertment with a quick cough. A hard red plastic number thumped on our table. Thank you Lean. I thought, smiling to her. She was frowning. "Wait for our food, Mi. I'm going to call Dean or Chris. I think its their break too." She said and walked out of the cafeteria. A premature gratitude it was.

"Miranda Montano," I said once she was out of the room. "I like coffee." I replied and reached out to touch the plastic number. It was number 17 with every edge pronounced yet it was smooth. I actually assumed it'll be sharp.

"Excuse me," a sharp voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to see a man holding down a tray of a plate of lasagna, a plate of macaroni and cheese, a huge cup of café latte, and a tall cup of black coffee. Did Lean read Tristan's mind? I didn't know she was telepathic or something.

"Thank you," I said after he put our food on the table and took the number seventeen out of my grasp. I looked at Tristan when I noticed he hadn't bought something. "Aren't you eating?" He didn't respond but took a piece of sandwich from his bag and stopped the man. "Can you buy me a cup of Cappuccino please?" He asked, and gave the man some money. The man left and Tristan looked at me.

"I take it that's your lunch," I said casually, taking my fork and started to cut a piece from my food. "Yes, I've ate heavy breakfast so I'm not really hungry." he replied and took a bite of his sandwich.

"You aren't having a diet, are you?" I teased, feeling light headed from slight hunger. I chewed my food slowly as he laughed. His laughter was reminiscent of Chris's and I felt slight ease in that.

"Nope, I'm not that fat." He said feigning the look of hurt. "Oh shut it. You're fat, admit it," I rolled my eyes and hid a grin. He was a good actor because if I wasn't the one initiating the jokes, I might believe that he was truly hurt by my words.

"Whatever, I'm not fat, I'm chubby." He said grinning. Optimism. Fat was a negative view, but chubby wasn't. I've heard it quite a few times in Lean when she got tired of Chris teasing her about her weight.

His drink arrived and I remembered about his random question. I took my cup of black coffee and sipped a little from the hot cup. "What's with the coffee question?" I asked unconsciously cocking my head to the side.

He sipped from his own, licking his lips from the white froth after. "I take it you drink only black coffee?" he asked, and I nodded, curious. "You're quiet and moody," he stated as if it was the simplest fact in the word. I frowned and pursed my lips. How did he say so?

"I like you as a friend, you'll be a good friend to anyone," he smiled to me and put his hand on mine that was holding the cup. His eyes twinkled and I felt my frown slipping away. He smiled at me and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Is the food here already?" Lean asked when she arrived. I pulled my hand away quickly and was a shot from jumping out of nerves. She raised an eyebrow at me and I returned it challengingly. She just smiled and exclaimed happily at the sight of her food. "Oh thank goodness," she gasped as she plopped herself on the seat beside me.

"Leandra Sullivan," she extended her hand to Tristan and he took it politely introducing himself after. The conversation flowed quickly and easily between the two while I occasionally chimed in my thoughts. But most of the time, I had my head slightly cocked to the side and wondered what did his coffee say about his personality.

5- Swing

"Higher, dad! Please! Higher!" A high-pitched merry giggle filled my ears from a far. It was noticeably from a girl who might not be older than eight. But I couldn't see her.

"Any higher and you might end up having a wound, sweetheart," a low voice said. His tone was equally happy. Their laughter mixed in the air with the squeaking sound of the swing as it moved. I still couldn't see them, but I knew they weren't far from me.

It was dark in where I was, but I see some light at the distance. The giggles and squeals were louder there too. I walked, and squinted as my eyes tried to adjust to the new light. The scene that greeted me was familiar. Too familiar.

It was the scene from the picture with the now broken frame. It was my father and I ten years ago. "Higher, dad!" My younger version squealed as she flew to the air, her small hands gripping the chains connecting her seat to the steel bar of the swing. Her smiled lit up the place. I could only recognize the swing and the tree at the center of the park in addition to the two figures.

"Are you happy, Mira?" The man, my father- no, her father, asked as he pushed the girl once more. She giggled and nodded when she was in the air, her hair flew with the wind. "Wooh," The girl squealed before finally digging her heels on the sand to stop the swing.

Panting from the gleeful activity, the girl stood up and walked around to hug her father's waist. "I love you dad," she whispered, looking at the man still with the smile on her face.

Then a high pitched scream filled the air. The place warped and the man didn't resemble anything like the previous one. He was noticeably older, and seemed to be drunk. But the girl didn't change. She was still the same six-year-old girl from the park. She was on the ground, half-lying and looked like she was facing a horrible monster.

"You stupid girl! You don't deserve to live!" The man shouted, and the girl whimpered. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and her lip quivered with fear. Poor girl. The man was not like a monster. He was a monster. I tried to move my foot forward when I saw the man lifting his hand to hit the girl, but I was stopped by unknown force. I couldn't move from my place.

My own eyes filled with tears as I watched my younger self be slapped by her father. "Stop it!" I shouted, but it was like there was an invisible wall between us. I pounded my fist on the wall as the man slapped the girl again on the other cheek. "Stop it! Stop it, please!" I felt hot tears rolled down my cheeks and my knees began to tremble. I was forced to kneel and continued to beg to stop the scene before me. It was horrible. He wasn't my father, but he was at the same time. Please, stop it!

---

 "Mira, wake up," a faint voice and slight shaking tried to pull me out of the nightmare. I felt sticky, my shirt and shorts were sticking to my body. I'm drenched in sweat from head to toe.

"Mira, Mira, wake up," the voice called again, and the shake became harder. I blinked my eyes open only to see a pair of black orbs staring at me with noted concern.

"What are you doing here?" I asked groggily as I rubbed my eyes trying to wash away the remnants of my sleep. The image of the father and daughter from my dream was still there though. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and moved to sit down.

Fay, my sister, stood beside my bed, worry still etched on her face. I noted the light escaping from the slits of my curtain on her back. It was morning again. She shook her head seemingly pulled out of her reverie.

"I've been trying to wake you up for the past fifteen minutes." She said quietly as if she feared she might wake up anyone. She wouldn't. Dad wasn't here. I'm quite sure. He left at two this morning. I frowned and lifted my blanket to stand up.

"You shouldn't have done that," I mumbled as I walked past her to open my door and walked down the hallway to the bathroom, purposely stomping my feet. She had to recognize the lack of snore and irritated grunt from the master's bedroom if she planned to sneak every morning.

I turned on the light and pulled my toothbrush from the holder. I left the door open and found Fay leaning on the doorway looking at me worriedly. "Will you stop it?" I snapped and glared at her through the mirror. I ignored as she huffed and continued to brush my teeth.

The whole time, Fay just watched me, a frown on her face. I scowled at her before I spat. "Why are you here?" I asked as calmly as I could when I turned around and leaned on the sink. She raised one eyebrow and shrugged. "Tomorrow's your first day in the university. I figured you might need some reminder. I know you're a lazy bum. No need to put our family into future humiliation by being late." The softness of her voice gone replaced with complete monotonous indifference.

I rolled my eyes when she left and went downstairs. Humiliation your face. She didn't know what's humiliation and its true meaning. I decided to concede though, just to humor her. Maybe she'll leave me alone if I just ignored her.

I left the bathroom to go to the kitchen to get some breakfast. Fay was on the counter, a bowl of cereals in her hands. "Where's dad?" She asked, finally realizing that I was alone at the house before she came.

"I don't know." I replied coolly as I pulled the bowl and poured some cereals and milk on it. At least I'm telling her the truth. I really didn't know where's he's gone.

"Is he gone last night?" She asked, swallowing a spoonful of milk. I shook my head as I started to eat. I'm not in the mood to answer her really.

"Are you ready?" She asked, and I knew she was pertaining to my classes tomorrow. "Maybe," I shrugged.

"You should be," she countered then proceeded to eat the rest of her meal in silence. Finally, she had shut her trap. I'm not a morning person and never will be. Years of not living with us made her forget about that. I finished my breakfast before she did and put my bowl on the sink.

 I turned to go to my room again when Fay hopped down from the counter and put her own on the sink. "How have you been?" She asked so quietly and out of character. I felt a small surge of guilt for being so cold to her, until I realized we've been playing the same game. I blinked at her and shrugged. "I've been better," I whispered before I walked past her and climbed the stairs.

"Oh and Fay? You wouldn't mind doing the dishes, would you?" I asked sweetly then ran to my room. She shrieked but I heard the louder than necessary thumps in the kitchen.

***

I used my foot to rock the swing I sat on back and forth. I was lucky to have the swing on my own in a Sunday. The park was swarmed by people playing happy families. It made my chest wince.

The wind blew lightly making a few wavy strands of my hair curtain my face. I pushed them back nonchalantly while I stare at a point in the sky. The last time I've been here in this park was in my dream this morning before Fay woke me up. It was too vivid to forget. I flinched at the memory of every hit of the man to his daughter, me. I wondered if dad was capable of it. He did resemble the monster in my dream after all; old and drunk. I wouldn't put it past anyone.

My head did a little involuntary shake as I pushed the images of the dream back in the recesses of my mind. Unconsciously, my foot dug its heel in the sand, halting my swing.

Another intriguing thought enter my mind. Fay's arrival at home. Her face reminded me of that fateful day when my, our mother left. I hadn't heard from either woman till now. It hurt. It still hurt. I knew Fay's reason to visit wasn't to bug me alone. She could do that even if she's away. She's capable of that. There's the fact that I'm starting school tomorrow. Deep inside Fay's annoying know-it-all tendencies, she's still my older sister. I couldn't help but push her away though. It hurt to see her alone.

Moments passed and it was already past noon. The wind was lighter and the sun too bright. I continued to rock my swing alone when I noticed the families setting up their picnic blankets. It was lunch time but oddly, I wasn't hungry. "Excuse me," a timid voice beside me pulled me out of my thoughts. I was startled but hid it quickly when I saw the little girl. She was barely six , her hair braided around her head. She looked like a little princess.

"Yes?" I asked smiling to the kid. She shifted on her  foot before she looked at me with a shy smile. "Can I use the swing, ate? The other one is not working," she pointed to the other seat and truly it was destroyed. The chain wasn't connected to one side of the seat. I heard footsteps nearing us and I saw a man who had the same face shape as the girl.

He smiled to me and crouched down to the kid. "You shouldn't bother her, darling," his voice was stern yet sweet. The girl looked down, her lip quivered. I feared she might cry. "Bu--"

"No, no," I said, abruptly standing from the swing. "You can use it," I gestured to the swing.

The girl squealed in joy and said 'Thank you.' "Push me papa!" She asked her father.

The man stood up and said, "Sorry for the trouble." I shook my head and smile. "No problem, I'm going anyways." He nodded his thanks then turned to his daughter as I walked away.

"Higher dad! Please!" The girl giggled. A lone tear fell on my cheek. I hope the scene wouldn't morph into one like my dream. She didn't deserve to face the monster. No one did.

I stopped from my steps and looked back. The girl giggle and squealed as the man pushed her swing higher and faster. She looked free up in the air, her hands stretched behind the chains as she went up and down. I cocked my head to the side and wiped the tear away. She looked happy. It was too long since I've been happy. I envy the girl.

"Higher dad!" she squealed once in the air. The man gave a low merry laugh and shook his head. "You might end up getting a wound, darling," he warned but pushed the girl still.

The girl continued to squeal in the air paying no mind to her father's words. She just felt free, Mira knew it. She felt it too once before. The girl dug her heels on the sand and stood from the swing. She rounded up to her dad and tackled him on his waist. "I love you dad,"  she said and the man chuckled and ruffled her hair as much as her braid would allow. "I love you too, sweetheart," he said. She's lucky. Reality was different from the dream. 

4- Summer

I used to love summers. The freedom from school, the refreshing feel of the cool waters in the beach against the heat of the sun, the smiles of my friends as we walked the streets to the park. We were high school, but we loved the park. It used to appeal to me. I used to be giddy about it. Rant about it for hours, weeks even before the school ends. Not anymore. Time passed, things changed. I only used to love summer time.

I tugged my hair harder than necessary as I braid it up for the day. Sweat beads formed in my forehead while I do my task. The wind just wouldn't pick up. My gaze turned to the open window and sighed. This got to be the hottest day of the month, and I wanted nothing more than to lie down on my bed. If not for my best friend, Lean. I sighed as I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and continued my task. I really didn't want to go.

If not for Lean's plan, more than the university's invitation actually, I would just lie down in bed, stare at my ceiling and wait till my father arrive. He went out this morning, two hours past midnight to be exact, and he hadn't returned yet. I'm more curious to where he was than worried about him leaving. If it wasn't for Lean, I wouldn't be up and about. Not now, maybe not ever.

"Mira, are you done yet?" Lean asked, her head peeking out from the slight opening of my door. I shifted my gaze on the mirror from my hands on my hair to her. She wore an expression of excitement and irritation. Her smile was forced and natural at the same time. Odd mixture. A small laugh escaped my lips before I nodded my head and tied the end of my braid.

"Yes, your highness," I teased, pushing my chair away from the vanity and stood up, turning to her in the process. "All set?" I asked, and her face lost the irritation leaving pure excitement in her.

"Yes, yes. Come now. Hurry. Big day ahead of us," Lean rocked on her heels and I chuckled. Leave it Lean to act like a kid opening her presents. "Okay, I'll be down in a minute," I replied, walking to the open window.

She turned to close the door, but I stopped her. She looked at me again and I just had to say it. "Thank you," the next thing I knew, I was in a big hug from my best friend. Her hands patted me on the back. A big grin was on her face when she pulled back. "Anything for you, anything." She said sincerely then patted my cheek lightly. A surge of gratitude and affection rushed to me when she did that. I returned the smile and then she left.

Her humming filled the house as she made her way downstairs. I closed the window, drawn the curtains, grabbed my satchel and followed her. The smile remained on my face. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to go out on a summer day. Maybe Lean could help me all along.

----

The ride to the university was very refreshing. The wind breezed past my cheeks, sending cool tingles where my sweat dripped on the sides of my head. Riding an open windowed jeep helped. My eyes watched the changing scenery from the urban feel of the city to the rural one inside the huge campus. Trees lined the sidewalk with vast grass covered land in between places. This was a plus point why I chose this school.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Lean's voice filled my ears. I went with her and met Chris and Dean at our old alma mater before we rode a bus to the next station. We had passed the entrance exam here in this school and we decided to visit it this summer before Dean go to the province for the much needed vacation. I envied him a bit.

"Yes, it is. It won't vanish even if you stop gushing at it every five seconds," Chris retorted. I rolled my eyes on him. I thought after the graduation party, the two of them had their relationship fixed. Apparently, I'm wrong. One night of fun wasn't enough.

"You just can't appreciate beauty when you see one." Lean said turning her eyes on the view, her gushing reduced to sighing audibly. I watched Chris with an amused smirk to how he will react on my friend's double meaning statement. The two had always been one to banter, but it became painfully obvious that they had unresolved tension between, and to the point that their words became venomous already.

"Yes, I can," Chris huffed and turned to the other window on his side of the jeep. On the corner of his eyes, he glanced at Lean before he sighed and turned his attention back on the view. I just shook my head. Their love life was theirs to unfold.

"They're obvious, aren't they?" Dean whispered next to my ear, causing me to involuntarily shiver. I looked at him and nodded. His black hair looked utter perfect as always. It was neatly combed, parted on my side. It was slightly longer to the front while neatly trimmed at the back. I resist the urge to brush back his bangs. It just wouldn't do good for us.

"They are. Can't we really do anything?" I asked in an equally quiet tone. I shifted on my seat and faced him, glancing at Lean and Chris making sure they weren't listening. "You know the answer, Mira. They need to see on their own. We've done what we can do." He said, putting his index finger on my chin and lifting my face to look at him. I felt my heart in my throat. He looked incredibly beautiful still.

"I'm just tired of watching them skirt around the issue," I whispered, averting my eyes on him.

"They're big boy and girl, they don't need another mother breathing on their necks,"  he had a point as usual, and I sighed. I hate it when he's right. "And we had our own issue." He whispered in low tone which gave me a few tingles.

Dean and I had a brief relationship back in our senior year. It wasn't the fairytale relationship, nor was it the most horrible one. It was a mediocre at its best. But it was a dreamy one in an outsider's view. We started out as best friends before I met Lean on my second year. We've been inseparable and the teachers had been on our side, pairing us together  almost every time. It bloomed and flourished until he decided to court me at the summer before our fourth year. We've been together for six months, and suddenly I ended it off, without a proper explanation.

Dean had been a gentleman about the issue. I suspect he knew about my family. Maybe not the full story, but a few insights from it. He was close to my sister too so most likely he knew something. I ended our love story the day I saw my father cheating in our house.

"You're wrong, we don't have an issue." I said firmly hoping he won't argue. He never did, but you can't be sure about people's mind. He gave me a shake of his head and a sigh.

"You know it, Mira. I'll be here when you're ready to talk." He whispered to my ear giving me again the shiver in my spine. Damn him for making me react like this. He leaned over to me, and cleared his throat. "Mama para po,(Mister, please stop)" he said. Lean and Chris both shifted and turned from their seats and we got off the jeep one by one. Maybe he was right. Someday Dean, someday.

---

"That's tiring, but at least we know the school lay-out now. Its very beautiful in here," Lean said as she plopped herself on the stone bench at the courtyard. As it was summer, only a handful of students were in the school, most for their summer courses, some like us touring the campus. I sat beside Lean and leaned my head on her shoulder.

"It is informative yes. I still say, I very much like to be on my bed still." I covered my yawn with my hands as Chris sat on the bench beside me. Dean was across the street buying some snacks.

It was a large campus, over a hectare I think. The buildings were ten or more meters away from each other, with few exemptions like three or four buildings were located side by side. At times we needed to ride some vehicle to go from one building to another. It would take me months to memorize the names of the building and their exact location. But at least we knew our way around the campus. It was nice to be ready for the next academic year.

"How can you say that?" Lean glared at me and I was forced to lift my head when she shifted on her seat. I rolled my eyes and shifted so I was facing Chris. He looked very amused at us and I glared at him.

"Chill, ladies. It was a nice day." He said lifting his hands as if to surrender. "But I wouldn't mind hanging around in your house Mi, it's better than mine anytime." He winked at me, and I reduced to giggles.

Lean shrieked and stomped her way in front of Chris. I stopped giggling and cocked my head to the side. It's my turn to be amused. "You!" Lean said sternly, her index finger pointed to Chris's face. "You're supposed to be backing me up, not her!" She continued.

"I'm just saying the truth. Is there anything wrong in saying the truth Mi?" He asked, leaning to side so he could see me.

I shrugged nonchalantly hiding my amusement with a straight face. He wrinkled his nose, then flinched when Lean proceeded to hit his arm. "You can't really see the beauty can you?" She said in between hits. "Lying around in Mira's house is boring I tell you!" She shrieked and chased Chris as he stood up and ran away from her. I couldn't help it anymore. I burst into laughter.

"Help!" Chris looked  like a terrified kid, and I shook my head. "Nope, never. You know brought that to yourself." I said grinning at him. He looked horrified at my words. "Not fair! I helped you! Help me!" He shouted as he continued to ran away to Lean.

"She won't help you. I know she won't." Lean thrilled in anger but I could see her resolve was wavering. She's entertained in her own antics. "I'm not yet finished with you Mira. You're next." She yelled to me before chasing Chris again.

"I'm terrified Lee!" I yelled back then giggled at their chase. I felt a tap on my shoulder and I looked around. Dean held out a can of cola and a bag of chips before he plopped on my side. "Its nice to see you smiling again Mi," He said quietly, his eyes watching our two friends at the distance.

"What do you mean?" I asked as I opened the chips, looking at it with confusion. My heart beat louder and faster. Was I that obvious? I smile everyday. But Dean knew me better. He probably could see through my façade.

"You know what I mean Mira," He looked at me quietly before he stood up to stop the two. "I hope they stay the same when we get to college," he said louder and gave me a nod. I watched him stop grab Lean and calmed her down, forcing a can of cola in her hand. He looked calm and collected, I felt guilty for causing trouble in his insides.

"I'm sorry Dean," I whispered as I stood from my seat and walked to them, holding out my food to Chris who gladly relieved them of me.

"Can we go home now?" I asked sweetly, and Chris nodded his head eagerly, walking   around me so I became his human shield against Lean. The girl glared at us, and I could practically see the wheels turning in her mind.

Dean was in front of me and for a moment I thought he would say no. Then he smiled and took my can. "I guess," he shrugged as he chugged down the last of my drink. Lean sighed and nodded. "On one condition, can we eat real food first?" She asked.

I cocked my head to the side and smiled. "Of course. Let's go to the mall near the station." I said and we crossed the street to stop a jeep. It would take us out the campus and to our destination. Chris took the seat on one side and Lean on the other. I sat on the nearest empty seat, with Dean beside me. I looked at him and smiled. "Yeah, I hope they stay the same." I leaned my head on his shoulder, as he took my hand to entwine it with his. He may not be my boyfriend, but he still is my best friend. And together, we could make it through college.

3- Lost

"NO!" I woke up suddenly from my uneasy slumber, the remnants of my nightmare as clear as it goes in my mind. Hell, it was too vivid to forget. I let my hands rub away the last signs of sleep. there was no way I'll be getting any sleep anymore after this. I glanced at the alarm clock on my beside table only to be greeted by the fact that its an hour before I should be waking, the sun hadn't even got to his throne yet.

The house was eerily quiet, something I've been recently trying to get myself used to. My father was at home, yes, but only snoring his way to dreamland. It was a bit comforting that I still had him after all, although it was a weird sense of comfort. Someone in their deranged minds would find comfort to be in a house where there's some cheater sleeping in it. Clearly, I wasn't as sane as I thought I was.

I made my way out of my room and headed for the bathroom. Nature called, all the while letting my mind wander off to my nightmare. It had been frightening, but it was another I'm getting used to. Ever since that night when she left, I've been getting nightmares.

It was a consistent, unchanging nightmare. The image of my mother's fleeting smile gradually leaving her face as she walked farther away from me. I was bounded by chains and metal rails as she made our distance longer and longer until she was nothing more of a tiny fleck in the scene. Then the scene will change and mom was falling too deep in the pit of darkness while I struggled to help her through invisible forces. It always left me screaming 'No' and woke up drenched in my own cold sweat.

I couldn't remember the last time the lights in the bathroom did me glory, except now. It had emphasized the sickly yellowish color of my skin, and the dark circles under my eyes. This was a rather terrifying look for someone of sixteen years of age. One would guess that I was not eating well due to the impending graduation. It was normal, but they didn't know. They have no idea, that my reason had nothing to do with school. It had more to do with life in general.

I turned the tap on and let the water ran on my hands. The refreshing coldness of the water pushed back my sleepy senses as it reached my face. I needed to wake up and put my mask on. I needed to let my audience think that I'm only nervous because of today's event. They couldn't know of my secret. That was only mine and mine alone.

***

"Good morning Mira!" Lean greeted, her hair in perfect ringlets as she stood before me and a painfully big smile painted on her face. I cocked my head to the side and flashed my perfectly mastered smile to her.

"Morning to you too, lovely Lee," I returned the greeting to my best friend in an equal glee. Fake as it was, Lean had acknowledged that the genuine Miranda was long gone. She had accepted it after I lashed out on her once. I never felt so guilty in my life since then so I pretended that I was alright. But I know deep inside her, she must have known that I'm not.

"Ready to face the big world, eh?" She took my hand as she always did and we started our ascend to the entrance of the auditorium where the event was to take place. I spotted her parents somewhere inside through the glass walls, and flashed a small polite smile when they caught my eye.

I turned my focus back to Lean and shook my head, "Never will, love. Never will." She raised both eyebrows on me then burst into chuckles. "Well princess, be ready because we're here to start our journey," she told me, squeezed my hand and half-dragged me up to meet her parents.

She was right. I should be ready, no matter what.

***

"Montano, Miranda Abueva." Miss Cabrera spoke through the microphone, then glanced at me, a small fleeting smile on her face. I returned it with one of my own smile, the first real smile of the day. I stepped up to the stage, received my diploma, shook the hands of the few guests before taking my final vow as a high school student at the center. This was it. I finally graduated.

I remembered the time when I was seven years old, on my second grade in Elementary and my teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up. I smiled at her and answered instantly that I want to be a doctor. That changed when I reached my sixth year just before graduating elementary school, and I was given the job to write about my dream job. I wrote how I wanted to be a lawyer. Just a year ago, we had an open discussion about our future careers. I was one of the quickly decided people who spoke. I wanted to be a artist and share my talents. The only difference was now that I stood in front of my year-mates and their parents, I didn't know what I wanted to be. Not a doctor, not a lawyer, not an artist. I tried to look for some answers in their eyes but I was found none. She was not here. My mother was not here. I sighed in my head, and stepped down.

"Navarro, Christina Santos," Miss Cabrera continued as I walked away from the stage.

***

"You look stunning Mira," Chris greeted as he let me in his house where the party was to take place. The loud music banged the walls on his house as we stepped in his living room.

"Metal at seven, Chris?" I teased, elbowing lightly his ribs when he poked my side in response.

"Nope, not me. Leandra's the DJ not me," he shrugged as he led me to the backyard where half of our class were. I frowned at his use of Lean's full name but ignored it. It was their problem not mine. They had to resolve this not me. I'll probably just give a helping hand.

"MIRA!" Lean's voice boomed across the place despite the size and the crowd. Flashing the practiced grin, I quickened my pace, side stepping the dancing people until I reached my best friend mid-way. "Stunningly gorgeous, lovely," I greeted and kissed her cheek as she kissed mine.

"You look stunning yourself," she returned and twirled me around which sent us into fit of giggles. "Metal at seven, missy?" I teased her, bumping my hips on hers.

She just grinned impishly at me and pulled me to the disc jockey's place. Once I realized where she's bringing me. I quickly pulled my hand from her grip and shook my head. "That's not my place," I said in a raised voice, frowning as the speakers boomed with loud music.

"What?" She looked at me confused so I closed our distance and put my lips to her ears. "That's not my place. Its yours, I'll just find Chris. Meet you in an hour inside?" Her lips tugged a fraction downward at the mention of his name. She then shrugged and continued to her place, switching the song to a rock song.

I turned around and scanned the dim place for the sign of Chris. It was hard to see him with the poor lighting in this place. It was a miracle that I haven't tripped on my own feet yet. Then I saw him. Tall, and slender, Chris stood by the refreshment table, his red polo shirt the only distinguishing feature in his otherwise monochromatic clothes. He was talking to one of our classmates whom I couldn't recognize.

I made her way to him, making sure to just walk at the sides so I wouldn't bump to the dancers. I recognized the girl to be Alma, our president. I flashed a smile to him behind Alma before I tapped the girl's shoulder. "Excuse me, may I borrow Chris for a moment?" I asked almost politely, but a bit of tension escaped my cage.

Something flashed in her face for a moment. Irritation perhaps? But I let it go as she just walked off with poise and left us alone. I watched her at the corner of my eyes as she approached her group of giggling girls on one of the tables. I narrowed my eyes for a moment before I turned my focus back on Chris. He was laughing at me so I glared at him.

"Stop it!" I exclaimed, punching his arm playfully. He tried to calm himself for a minute then looked at me in the eye with an annoying smile on his face.

"Sorry, sorry. You just looked hilarious. Really? Alma's just jealous you got higher position in the ranks. Plus you have me by your side." He teased, but I shook my head.

"Nonsense. Alma's just a childish swot, I would never sink low on her level," I said, an air of  arrogance in my voice.

"Yet you still glare at her as if you want nothing but revenge," he said in a low but serious manner. "Seriously Mira, chill, relax. Alma can't do any harm. She's a swot you said and you're not. So relax. Its supposed to be our party. Time to celebrate not to plot on revenge!" He said touching my arm and offering me a glass of juice.

I sighed as I accepted the offer and nodded. "Fine, but I'm not letting you go that easy on your other statement. Have you by my side? Your head is as big as the hers it seemed." I rolled my eyes as I took a sip on my drink. My eyes focused on Lean as she moved her body to the music at the stage. She was in her element. And I felt a bit envious, I wish I had her confidence. I wish I had my confidence back.

"Well, I'm just telling the truth. I'm handsome, I have good voice, athletic, and romantic at heart. I'm to die for," he said exaggerating his gestures.

"In your dreams, Gutierrez. In your dreams," I said rolling my eyes once more before I noticed that he was looking at Lean too. "Yes, in my dreams," he whispered then sighed.

I looked back at Lean and took Chris's large hand in mine. "Won't be in your dreams if you make a move now," I said in an equally quiet voice. He looked at me confused before I glanced at my best friend pointedly and looked back at him. "Go on, there's something more you can do." I gave his hand a squeezed before I pushed him lightly towards Lean's direction.

"You think so?" he asked, worry in his eyes betraying the calm and proud demeanor he had. I just nodded and sent an encouraging smile. "Thanks," he said kissing my forehead and walked away from me and to Lean. He stopped a  few feet away from me and turned back to me.

"I wish you'd follow your advice Mira," he said then grinned widely and continued his way to her. Panic crossed my eyes, and everything blurred. The colorful lights danced in my gaze but I couldn't see anything. What did he mean by that? Did he know? Did he? Realization clicked on me when I saw Chris pulled Lean from her place and to the dance floor. He didn't. Chris was just good in his intuitions, and he just assumed. If he knew, he would talk to me. He just probably assumed it.

I sighed in relief as I watched them dance, bodies in an intimate distance, rocking hips to the music. They moved in perfect rhythm and my lips warped into an ironic smile. "Sorry Chris, but I couldn't do anything. I can't do anything more," I whispered before I scanned the room in search of another person to bug. 

2- Frame

I ran and left the office after she said those words. This wasn't life. The life I grew up was the life I knew and wanted. It was the life with both my parents bringing me to the park and pushing my swing as our merry laughter filled the air. It was the life that had me filled up with knowledge through the guidance of them both. It was the life that even their simple smiles reassured me that everything's going to be okay.

Where did that life go? I wanted it back, back in my grasp, back in my heart. It was lost. My sister was mistaken. This wasn't life, this was hell. I stopped under the largest tree at the center of the park five blocks away from school. I had a hand leaning on the trunk of tree and the other on my chest as I tried to catch up with my breath. I still cried, though it was reduced to dry sniffing.

What happened back there was a dream, something I wouldn't want to relive again. I slumped down on the grassy ground and hugged my knees to my chest. I leaned my forehead on my knees, and shut my eyes. I wished it was dream- something that would vanish when I opened my eyes.

I waited painstakingly for minutes to pass by before I opened my eyes. It felt like a few minutes since I closed them, but the truth was, hours had already gone. I must have fell asleep under the tree. Disoriented, I rubbed the nape of my neck with my left hand, trying to work out the kinks that formed at my awkward position. I had to go home. As much as I hated to admit it, that home was now only a house.

***

I watched the view changed from the house to house, from establishment to establishment as I rode the jeepney. It was a quick ride but enough for me to know that it hadn't been a dream. If it was, I'm sure they've gone out to call a search for me. But they didn't. And I know that nobody cared for me in that house.

"Hija, bumaba ka na, paparada na ko (Miss, you need to get off now. I'm going to park this now),"  a gruffly looking man, the driver, announced. I nodded meekly at him before I gave him the fare and got off the vehicle. Three more blocks before I stepped in my 'home'. I felt the wind started to pick up and blew a few strands of my hair that escaped my bun. I paid no heed to it as I continued to walk with head downcast and watched my feet.

I suddenly wished I was back at the park, paying no mind at the time. Now, I grudgingly willed myself to step forward every minute. It was difficult, both frightening and lonely. The turmoil in my chest seemed to increase as I took every step closer to my house. Was I ready to face him? Was I prepared to enter the house that had been once filled with happiness? Was I ready?

The question hang mid-air as I suddenly found myself stepping a foot on the neatly trimmed lawn of our property. I lifted my head to look at the white-washed painted two-storey house in front of me. The assorted flowers seemed to mock me with their happy glow at the front of the house under the moonlight. This wasn't the home I grew up with.

Physically, it was still the same. However, it lacked the warmth that had been slowly diminishing in the past six months. Now, it was completely gone. It had left its confines and followed her. "Selfish," I mumbled with bitterness.

The lights at the living room was opened. He must have been here. Unusual, seeing as he left the house every night. He was as selfish as her, I decided. Was he waiting for mom to arrive and serve him food? How very unfortunate of you, dad. Sarcasm dripped in my thoughts. A scowl formed itself on my face as I turned the knob of the door opened.

"Where have you been?" he asked dimly. He was at the couch, with a half-full bottle of beer on one hand. The television flashed images without sound. He must have been anticipating my arrival. The smell of alcohol and smoke lingered in the air and I forced my face not to show any emotion.

"Somewhere," was my quick reply. I shrugged off my shoes and pushed it at the back of the door as I closed it. I didn't dare to look at him, but I could feel his eyes burning the back of my head.

"Where is she?" He continued, his voice slightly slurred. My shoulders tensed for a moment but I still didn't look at him. I turned about face and walked to the stairs. The stairway forced me to face his direction and for once, I willed myself to shot him an indifferent look. "I don't know." I said with a shrug, and I continued my climb to my room.

***

I shut my door with a soft click and stood leaning on it. I strained my ears to listen to his actions downstairs. The telly was now shut, the clink of the bottle on the kitchen counter ruined the otherwise complete silence in the house. I stood there listening for any hint of movement, until I heard the door opened and closed. I moved away from my door to my windows. I pushed back the dark pink curtains slightly, and saw his figure walked on the lawn and out of the property towards his mysterious destination.

I sighed as I let hand fall on my side. He's different. He wasn't the man I knew before. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the life I knew before was a lie, an illusion. And hell was the reality. I looked around at my dim room. The light of the moon passing through the narrow slits of the curtains was the only thing that gave my room a bit of lit. It directly shone on the pictures on my study table across the room, particularly at one.

It was the picture taken when I was seven. We were at the park and my father pushed the swing I was sat on back and forth while the both of us laughed at the whoosh of the wind every time I rise. My mother shot it, successfully capturing the moment.

"Where did you go dad?" I mumbled as I strutted the small distance to the table and grabbed the picture in my hands. I traced his laughing features lightly as I let the tears flow freely on my cheeks.

***

He was a different man now. Gone were the smiles, replaced by the sneers. He had slowly left us a long time ago. Maybe that was what pushed my mom to go and leave me, us, behind. However, my brain told me differently. I was only fooling myself by believing that it was the sole reason.

I was the witness of the other reason. The night, that confirmed my suspicions consequently confused my mind, had been enough reason for her leaving. She probably knew. Maybe I wasn't the only witness. Maybe...

***

My eyes clouded with images of that night. It was as if I was transported back that chilly December night. I heard sounds, something different from the usual sobbing. Curiosity filled my mind and I silently sneaked my way towards the source of the sound.

Each step became heavy as I realized what the sound was. Guttural sounds, moans and groans. My eyes began to widen each time I lifted my foot to near the room. I wasn't a kid anymore. I wasn't five who was too innocent to know what those sounds mean. Those were moans of pleasure. But my heart told me to confirm it before concluding.

The knob turned silently, thankful that another moan muffled the creaking sound of the door. I pushed it open slightly, my eyes were short of budging out of the sockets. Two figures were on the bed, lost in the thrill of passion. I would have made a small interruption if they were my parents. However, my sharp eyes recognized the woman to be a stranger at my home.

This time, disgust filled my gut as they both emitted another moan of pleasure. I was in short of throwing up the remnants of my dinner. Despite my fear of being caught, I didn't shut the door as quietly as I had opened it. I didn't bother covering up my footfalls as I rushed to the loo. I threw up the contents of my stomach as I continue to hear their sounds as if they didn't notice the noise I made. Tears fell from my eyes as I hugged my knees to my chest and rocked by body back and forth on the cold tiled floor of the loo.

***

I threw picture frame I was holding across the room. It hit the wall and the glass broke down into pieces on the floor. My father had a mistress. He's a cheater and he was to blame. I exited my room to go to the bathroom. The disgust I felt that night wasn't in the least different from the disgust I right now. I threw up the contents of my empty stomach.

I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and stood to look at my reflection on the mirror. The person who looked at me was nothing like the Mira I knew. She had lost the warmth and glee in her black orbs, her lashes drenched in tears, and her lips pursed on a thin line. I focused on her eyes. It seemed to talk to me. Her eyes were filled with swirling clouds of regret. What am I regretting? It clicked. I was regretting about not telling dad that I knew his secret. It was my fault.

Tears fell down on my cheeks once more as I watched the girl in the mirror. That girl seemed to mock me more with her tears. And I felt more guilty at the passing seconds, for I, Miranda Montano was to blame.

1-Letter

'What is love?' was the question that boggled my mind as I answered once more the slam book my friend asked me to. I turned the previous pages of the small notebook to read the other girls' answers to the question. There was the clichéd "Love is blind," or the idealistic "Sparks and butterflies in your tummy." Nothing seemed a perfect fit however. I wanted to write something unique, something I could call mine, but it felt like my mind shut down and refused to think. So instead on scribbling down my words, I left it blank and went to the next question.

***

I shut the notebook close having one single space left unanswered still. I had to give it back to Bea tomorrow and still I refused to answer that question. Sighing, I pushed the notebook to the edge of my desk before I stood up and walked to my bed. I laid on my back with eyes trained on the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling. It was arranged to be like the Andromeda constellation. What is love? It hadn't left my mind since I came across it an hour ago. As a young curious explorer, I had tried to seek out for answers in books, through media, and sometimes through sitting and observing people. I still hadn't made definite conclusions yet, all because it confused the hell out of me. How will you make one ending to a question when said question had a gazillion answers to start with?

A younger version of me would say with confidence that she knew what love was. I've seen love. Wasn't it supposed to be the feeling when you're in married relationship? And I've been around one. In fact, I'm still suffering in one. No, I'm not a married woman; I'm sixteen for goodness sake. I'm suffering by watching one.

Through the silence of the night, I heard sobs. It vaguely registered to me when I first heard it, six months ago. At first, I thought it was from the television. But then again, who in their right minds would watch TV at 12:30 in the morning? I'm certain everyone in the house had their hinges intact. So I confidently crossed it out.

I went to investigate one night. I crept out of my room and tiptoed towards where the sound was louder. Doppler Effect, I think was what it was called. And to my surprise it came from my parents’ room. I opened the door slightly, and I saw her. I saw my mom shaking as she lay down on her side and wiped her eyes harshly. I safely assumed it was tears she was wiping. Questions had formed in my mind that night. Slowly and silently, I crept to my room. There I allowed to ask myself of the small question; why?

Things became clearer to me as the time passed by. I began to observe my parents while they interact with each other. To the untrained eye, nothing would look different in their conversations or their actions, but to me, an expert, I've seen past through their facades.

My mother spent less and less time doing her hobbies at home. Instead, she tired herself out in her job. She'll go to work before I did, leaving a small note to me for breakfast, and then she'll go home after dinner. My father did the exact opposite. He had a job, part-time so to speak. But he still wasn't a constant figure in the house in the past. However, in those six months, he stayed every day, leaving the house after dinner and going home in the wee hours in the morning. Less time were spent in their banter, a concrete proof that something was wrong. And whenever they met at home, they'll talk in harsh hushed tones.

I wasn't an idiot. I knew of these things because of observing and in fact, a few firsthand experiences. Still they refused to talk to me about it. The clock chimed and I glanced at it. It was two in the morning. I sometimes think it was their biological clock that stopped the sobbing and made that small click of the door announcing his retreat. The walls of this house weren’t as thick as they liked to think. In fact, it was the thinnest thing ever. Silence once again took over the place. 'At last' was the last thought in my mind before it went completely shut.

***

The rays of sun passed through the small slits of the closed dark pink curtains on the East side of my room. It reached my eyes causing it to adjust to the sudden change in lighting. I looked at the clock on my left. Three hours of sleep that was all I got in the past six months.

Grudgingly, I stood up from my bed, shaking off the remnants of sleep. I heard soft clinking of kitchen wares downstairs. She must have been late today. I opened my door and started my way down to the kitchen. My mom flitted in her kingdom- the kitchen. She was in her element, something I definitely missed for the past six months.

"Where's dad?" I asked. And like the rare moments I caught her in the morning, she replied, "Good morning, dear." She didn't even bother to answer my question. It was either he was still asleep, or he's spent his night away. But since I heard their door shut last night, it meant that he's upstairs, snoring his way to dreamland. How lucky can he get?

I tucked in at the eggs and bacon my mother laid in front of me as she left her sanctuary with one swift kiss on the forehead. Sighing, my eyes followed the weary steps she took until she was completely out of sight. Something's wrong. My heart began to pace, but my brain immediately stopped it. Nothing's wrong. It's just how life was.

***

Boring was the understatement of the year. As the last months of school passed, the sudden decrease of school works and the increase of practices for commencement exercises came for the senior students. In between the rare academic work and often practices laid the indefinite amount of free time when everyone else seemed to shut off the others and mind their own worlds.

Today was full of that free time. I found myself stuck at one corner of our classroom. The four corners had been divided into four factions; from the cheering and jeering boys, to the giggling and squealing girls, to the sleeping and snoring mix, and to the reading and writing club. I was part of the fourth group. The room was filled with noise, something you'll grow used to as the time passed; something you'll miss after the graduation.

In the midst of the sea of noises, a soft clicking sound of heels on cold cemented floor entered the mix, almost inaudible to the novice. The clicking stopped, and Miss Cabrera cleared her throat. As if on cue, all in the mixture of noise stopped and all heads turned to look at her. "Will you minimize your noise class?" No one answered. It was the unwritten rule of the students. 'Thou shall not answer if thou shall not follow.' Stupid, yes, but logical. "Practice will start in fifteen minutes, I expect you to behave like the mature young adults that you are." She sent each group a glare before the class broke into their own noises again.

I refused to go back on my work until she had completely left the room. However, she remained at the door, oblivious to the ruckus my classmates made through their sounds. She looked at me in the eye before she opened her lips. "Miss Montano, if you please come with me for a moment." Her voice droned out the noise that filled the air. With a hesitant nod, I shut down my laptop and put it in the bag. I quickly turned to my classmate to ask a favor if she could please look out for it while I'm gone. I didn't bother to wait for her response as I paced from my corner to the door and ultimately followed Miss Cabrera.

Questions began to formulate in my mind. I was rarely called out from my room, unless it was too important. Like when you fail an exam or your final grade didn't reach the limit. Or it could be that you broke the rules and they had to give you sanction for your infraction. My brain tried to tell me that I was called because I had an award, something they had forgotten to tell me before we started practicing; A last minute award that escaped their notices before. However, my heart was at the opposite of the spectrum. It expected the worst, news that would drastically change my life.

We reached the Guidance Office and Miss Cabrera turned the door knob clockwise. The door opened and revealed a familiar dark-haired figure shaking with quiet sobs. Upon the announcement of our arrival, the figure lifted its head to look at us. Miss Cabrera and the councilor chose that moment to exit with a soft click of the door shutting.

My sister burst into violent cry at that moment. She clung to me tightly as I stood dumbfounded at her figure. I whispered cooing sounds and awkwardly patted her back. We weren't the epitome of best siblings in the world; we didn't even reach the lowest level. But in this rare moment, I suddenly found myself becoming increasingly tensed. What was happening? I had missed something, what it was, was still a mystery.

I led to the couch and she descended into the quiet sobs once more. "What happened? Why are you crying?" I asked, figuring that she'll be more likely to answer me now that she's a bit calm.

Instead of replying however, she thrust a delicately folded letter in my hand. What was this? Who did it come from? The neat penmanship on the right hand corner that wrote my name, however, gave it away. Mom.

I shook as I slowly unfolded the small paper. My eyes passed through a blur of words. It won't register in my mind. By the end, I was crying like my sister. The small piece of paper slipped from my grasp and fell on the floor.

It wrote:

Dear Mira

I couldn't express how sorry I am for you leaving you. I know you are an intelligent and compassionate young woman, I wouldn't put it past to you to know what's happening in our home. I know you noticed the gradual turn of events at the house. You know what's happening. I deluded myself into thinking that you are too young to know all of this. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for being selfish, my dear. I left this letter on the doorstep of your sister's house, choosing a coward's way of solving the problems. I couldn't take it anymore. I choose to leave you because of it. I know you're not like me. As much as you insist that we're the same, Mira, hija, we aren't. You are your own woman. You grew up independently away from your parents grasp. You had learned to stand up on your own feet. You, unlike me, is brave enough to face life.

It took me months of weighing my options before I finally opted for leaving. The selfish side of me won, and I am very sorry for it. I'll be off somewhere your dad would never look for. I am leaving you in the hopes that you'll never follow our paths. Live your own life, Mira. Love with your heart. You'll understand at the right time why I did this. I'm really sorry Mira, love. Please find it in your heart to forgive an old woman, even if it took years for you to do that.

With all my love,

Mom

I deftly picked up the letter and looked at my sister pleadingly. "Please tell me this is a joke, a cruel joke. Please." I whispered, desperation dripping from my voice. She returned my gaze with the sadness and pity. She shook her head and wrapped her arms on me, successfully enveloping me into a hug as I took my turn to shake violently as I cry. "I'm so sorry Mira. This isn't a joke. This is life."