Dying Wish

The bench in the park was where they used to sit and talk about their day. The trees around the park were now huge and old whereas before, they were green and vibrant. The two women, now in their thirties, sat side by side again, just like before.

Amanda, the vibrant one, in her expensive suit and pumps, seemed uncomfortable in their serene surroundings. Louise, on the other hand, in a normal t-shirt and jeans, blended with the scenery.

“It has been a while, Louise.”

Louise mumbled a yes.

“How is he?”

Louise turned to face Amanda, with watery eyes and answered,

“He’s fine. He wants to see you.”

Amanda now looked as if she’s about to cry but took control of her tears.

“I can’t.”

Louise spoke with fervor,

“You can’t or you won’t? He’s dying. We don’t know how long he can last.”

Amanda looked away from her friend. She was filled with remorse over what happened. Sam was the first man she ever loved. He was the one she was supposed to marry, but when her father found out, she was sent away abroad. She entrusted Sam to Louise. It was only right that they should get married after.

Louise could not contain it any longer. She grabbed Amanda and slapped her.

“What do you think this is? A joke? I came here for him. If he didn’t ask me, I wouldn’t have gone here. Do you know how much I hated you fro leaving him? For leaving us? You were selfish. You still are.”

Louise stood up and started walking away from Amanda. She could never understand why Sam still loved her even after she broke his heart.

The next day, a car arrived in front of a simple house. The neighbors all looked in awe and admiration as a woman dressed in expensive clothes got out and proceeded to the entrance.

She knocked on the wooden door twice but there was no answer. She knocked again but still no answer. A young houseboy came from the back and went towards her.

“Hey lady, what are you doing there?” he asked.

“I’m looking for Louise…and Sam.”

“They already left. Yesterday, when the missus arrived, Mister Sam asked for something or someone then he died. They are now in the morgue.”


So the story began like any other love story. Worlds apart, they somehow found a place to meet.
Right there in school, it was an ordinary day. She was crossing the hallway and he was simply walking by.
She slipped on something and he was right there beside her, breaking her fall.
She looked at him and he looked at her.
It was magic.

They were stuck on each other from that day on. Whenever he can, he would make up an excuse to see her. She does this as well.
It was a heavenly feeling. It was wonderful and thrilling. They could talk for hours and they could simply stare at each other and each one would totally get it. They hoped it would go on forever.

But nothing ever does last forever.

She soon found out that he has a girlfriend. It broke her heart.

Little by little, she started to create a wall in between them.
No more slow walks, witty chats, holding hands or staring at each other eyes. Soon, he began to think that she was mad at him.

He started to stay away from her as well.

It took every ounce of her willpower not to correct his doubts. However, reality bites and he still has a girlfriend.

One day, she was walking blindly around school and realized that she stopped where it all began. Slowly, tears began to fall from her eyes. She knew that a love like this could never come again.

She went to the rooftop of the school building. She could see herself falling from the building and feeling the pain slowly disappear as her blood seeps to the ground.

A hand jerked her from her reverie. She looked blankly at the boy she loves.
She could not believe her eyes. He was here. Always, he appears when she needed him the most.

He held out his hand and she happily held his.

So the story ended like any other love story. For a while, their love shone, blazing like a comet.
Its fiery brightness replaced by two broken bodies of the lovers.

A New Room

The goldfish swimming inside the fishbowl was as jittery as I am. After my father placed him inside, he kept on flittering here and there, moving about as if expecting something bad will happen to him. I share the same sentiments because the new house we moved in was huge and creepy. The old floorboards would creak at each step and the dust was everywhere. I dreaded this day of moving in. It was as if there’s no turning back. Nothing will ever be the same again. Not only did I lose my mother, I lost a life where I was once happy and safe.

I placed my finger inside the fishbowl and immediately, the goldfish backed away from it. I slowly moved my finger closer and closer and the fish started to swim in panic. I removed my finger from the bowl and looked for the fish flakes I bought earlier.

I dropped some of it inside and the little guy swam to it without fear.

“Leila! Come up here and see your room!”

I ran towards my father’s voice and saw him with a big smile on his handsome face.

“My room? I have my own room?”

“I certainly think it’s time. I hope you’ll like it.”

I saw the prettiest room any eleven year old girl would dream of. There was a canopy bed with white curtains, fluffy white pillows with embroidered roses. To my right was a window that overlooked the city in all its bustling life. In a corner, a study table where horse figurines are perched on the shelf to inspire me. At the foot of the bed, a little sofa, should I have some friends over and on my left, my guitar resting near a closet where all my clothes are neatly hanged and pressed with my shoes lined up in a rack.

Suddenly, that fear of not liking the changes in my life was gone. I went to get the fishbowl and saw that the goldfish was now swimming in a relaxed manner. He was obviously happy with the food I gave. I dipped my finger once more in the bowl and this time, the fish went by swimming back and forth, ignoring my finger.

I placed the bowl near the windowsill and sat on my new bed. As the light reflected itself on the water, I thought of how beautiful this day was.

The Fall

Everything was like an idyllic dream. The sun was setting gracefully, its arms enfolding the earth with her red-orange cape, slowly darkening the horizon. The wind was billowing around her, caressing her like a lover. She knew no fear, only of a curiosity as to what will happen next.

A car screeched in the distance and sped up towards where she was.


She turned her head to see the love of her life. He was a good man, handsome and kind. She looked on towards the pretty sight of the setting sun and stepped closer to the cliff.

“Please, stop. Don’t go any further.”

Patrick was at a loss. Clara knew that this was the only way to end it. She stayed with him far longer than needed. She faced him and was slightly bothered to find out that he was now only a few paces away.

“I have to do this, Patrick. I have to.”

“No, you don’t. Please come back to me. Please take my hand and come to me.”

She looked at him for the last time and turned around. The wind called her name. She stepped forward and fell.


He ran to the edge and saw that before she could hit the ground, she unfolded her wings and flew back up to the sky where she belonged and beyond the sunset.

He could only fall to his knees and weep as his angel left him without even looking back.

The Accountant

Leo was pissed. Some guy is trying to woo his girlfriend Vicky. Although he’s confident of Vicky’s faithfulness, he is extremely annoyed at the smooth moves this guy is pulling.

He sends Vicky love notes, love letters, chocolates and flowers. Vicky was flattered but wasn’t interested at all. What piqued Vicky is how Leo is handling all of this.

Finally, Leo couldn’t take it anymore. The guy was about to hand Vicky another of his love poems when Leo grabbed him and punched him in the face. The guy fell with a bloody nose and a black-eye. Vicky was surprised and asked her friends to take the guy to the infirmary.

Vicky turned to face Leo and said, “I actually liked his poems, letters and the little things he gave me for no apparent reason. It was sweet and all you did was to punch him senseless.”

With that, she left him. Leo was now confused. What does she want?

After several days of not seeing each other since Vicky was obviously being unreasonably mad at him for reasons unknown, Leo decided to imitate the previous guy’s tactics. Since he can’t afford the flowers and chocolates since it’s not included in his budget, he decided that a love letter will do, for now.

My Sweetheart,

I write to you in all humility. I am your love slave…I will do anything for you…

That was awful. Leo crumpled that letter and started writing another one.

My Dearest Vicky,

You are the reason for my very being. You are the angel in my life. I live and breathe for you…

Crap. It was not working. Le looked through love poems, love letters and other romantic materials he can get inspiration but it was not working. He was just not cut out to be romantic that way. He was an accountant and everything else made sense to him as long as he can balance the account given to him.

After several hours, this is what he wrote:

My Darling Vicky,

When I met you, you gave me something special. I invested that in the bank of my heart. At 25% interest, compounded daily, my love for you grew at such alarming speed. You might wonder why 25%. Out of 100% of the principal amount, 25% I allocated for God. He brought us together and He will always be part of our relationship. The other 25% is set aside for our future family. The other 25% is for our individual needs. Our personal growth, dreams and ambitions for ourselves. The remaining 25% is our love for each other.

I make withdrawals for times we quarrel or argue which means to cover for those unexpected drawing from the account, I specified a 25% interest rate. This is not withstanding that after we kiss and make up; I also gain more than what I lost. Thus, I placed those in a time deposit account, still in the bank of my heart.

Every month, I audit my love account and I am happy to learn that my return of investment has more than surpassed my forecast.

Finally, I would like to convert this into a joint account and I hope you will think of this as a lucrative investment that will make us both set for life.

Love, Leo

Vicky soon married Leo. They had two daughters and three grandsons.

Come back to me

It was all a blur to me. I could hear her screaming and trying her best to get away from me. She really doesn’t get it at all. There’s no other way. This was the only way I can be with the love of my life.

When she left me without saying goodbye, I hid my feelings of hurt, anger and despair from everyone. She was my light, she was my reason for being. I used to believe that our love was pure and true. Then somehow, everything went wrong.

Now, she’s gone.

But I know how to make her come back to me.

The cold and heavy knife I held jerked me to the present. I must be brave. I must not falter in what I’m about to do.

Her pitiful whimpers were music to my ears. Soon, my love will be flying back home, asking for my forgiveness for slinking away like a thief in the night. Soon.

I held her down forcefully. My legs pinning her down as she tries to escape from my death grip.

Her final words were pleas of mercy that fell on deaf ears.

“Papa, please don’t kill me!!!”

Our seven year old daughter would make my wife come back to me. This, I am sure of.

At First Sight

It was an ordeal that I could have missed altogether. The choice was there but deep down, it was never really a matter of choosing. It was simply an inevitable series of events that led me to the operating table. Dazed as they cut me open and panicking at the thought of people simply throwing my flap of skin to expose my uterus.

I did not really get it at first. It was too cold and too quiet. I could feel the icy slab of the operating table and hear the ticking of the seconds hand of the clock.

Then a loud cry erupted.

I dimly heard them say that it’s time to sew me up.

I woke up and saw her.


100-Word Story: On Her Deathbed

Lights off. The room begins to change into a cave that houses demons. The green-eyed demon unleashes its jealous rage and summons all the other demons that began to torment her.

She yearns for the morning to come but it doesn’t arrive. She huddles in the corner of her bed, kicking each claw that tries to take hold of her. She wades through a sea of insecurities and despair.

She looks for her lover, a pale ghost sleeping soundly beside her. She shouts his name but there is only silence.

She realizes that hell has come. She must be dead.

“I must be dead.”

The Writer in Me

I love writing. This is why I started blogging. It was an outlet for me to express my thoughts on life, the mundane and the mysteries I encounter. Nowadays, I only blog when something actually happens to me. Yep, I’m that self-centered. But again, this is my blog.

Anyhow, the writer in me awoke. Especially when one of my students started to write her own fiction. It’s not yet finished but I can see that she’s doing her best to make it into something fantastic.

Thus, I’m back to this burgeoning desire to simply write and write. Short stories or microfiction are more my style. I don’t know if I’ll ever have the patience to write a novel. The per chapter thing seems taxing and well, long. For now, I shall do my best to simply get back on writing. Wish me luck!