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A Random Story: Knock on wood…

I clearly remember the day I received the news. My father and step mother, your parents, got into a car accident. It was your first birthday and they wanted to come home earlier to celebrate. They told me the you cried the entire night and only went to sleep after tiring yourself out from all that crying.  You were only a baby and you didn’t understand why you were crying, they said. But I knew that you knew. Even if you didn’t understand it at the time, you knew that they weren’t coming back.

I never got the chance to see them one last time, because they held the mass and funeral service a few days before I arrived. They wanted to delay the burial until I got back, but I didn’t want them to; partly for respect of the dead and partly because I could not have stood to see them in their caskets. I didn’t want to see the shades of blue, purple, and black desperately hidden in a thick layer of make-up. I didn’t want to see their seemingly sleeping figure, all dressed in white, and lying inside a wooden box. I didn’t want that as my last memory of them. I wanted to remember them when they were happy and alive. I wanted to remember them as they were; the day I last saw them, sending me off to study abroad. You were still in her womb back then. I promised you the I’d return to you in time. I never imagined that I’d be coming home to you in such circumstances.

I arrived at the airport a week later. I was greeted by my grandmother in tears and brought me to my childhood home. That was when I held you for the first time. You were so small and vulnerable to the world, but in my hold I knew that it was then, more than ever, my responsibility to keep you safe and raise you up as our father and your mother would have wanted to. At that moment, I lost myself and cried for the first time. I held back every single tear before that moment. That night, you made no fuss and slept soundly in my arms. That was your first peaceful night of rest after days of crying yourself to sleep.

There was never a day after that that I wouldn’t be there to take care of you. Before, I was a selfish child that mostly thought about myself and my future. But every night that I tucked you in your crib was a reminder from then on, I was responsible not only for my future, but your future as well.

Then after, I never missed an important day in your life. Every birthday. Every graduation. You could not imagine how proud I was when you graduated college. And at the day of your wedding and you chose me as your best man, I gave myself a big pat on the back, because I knew that then that I did a good job with you. Our parents would have been so proud of you that day.

And on this day which I never hoped to live long enough to see. To send you off with more than all the love I gave to you everyday of your life. From the day I first held you; to the day you breath you last; to the day that it’ll be my turn to succumb to fate. I promise that we’ll see each other again, and we’ll finally be one complete family. You, me, our father, and our mothers— together again. As I promised you even before you were born, I’m making that same promise now. 

I love you, baby brother.

And as I write this story, I knock on wood; that the events stated herein should never happen; that my baby brother grow up with his mother and father and care for them until they grow old. But know that he’ll still have his ever loving older brother. Half by blood, full in love and in spirit.

The End.

Source: robiotics

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  • 11 months ago
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Second Passing [a love story - part 1]

Click here for the prologue.

————————————-

The second passing is the second installment of my original story, “Fleeting Moments” To catch up on the 1st part of the story, click here for the prologue, and for part one, two, three, four, five,  six, seven and eight of “Fleeting moments”.

————————————-

It is done…

I saved her…

But if only I had more time…

I could have given her more…

More of the love that I’ve bottled up inside.

“It doesn’t make sense.” Melissa’s voice whispering from the distance.

——-

[Earlier… Somewhat the day before…]

*Riiiiiiing!!!

I heard my alarm clock ringing and started to open my eyes. What puzzled me was why it was still dark and why my head felt like it had a brick on top of it. Then I realized that I fell asleep while reading and the book I was reading was covering my face.

Lifting the book from my face, I glided my other hand to the bed side table— searching for a bookmark. I placed the bookmark at the last page I was reading and scanned the room. The bed side lamp shade was still on— typical for someone who left a two pound book on top of his head while falling asleep and forgot to turn-off the lamp.

I rolled out of bed and landed on my feet and headed out the door, but not before turning the lamp off.

———

Bacon…

“Starving here, Dad.” I said out of starvation.

“Wait a minute, son. I still have to interrogate you, and a good investigator should unnerve and throw you off balance before asking questions.”

I grabbed a dull butter knife on the table in front of me and pointed at him, “Hand over the pork and nobody gets slathered on the face with butter.”

“Derrick, we have to carefully talk about these things.” With a pair of tongs, Dad took the bacon and placed it on top of a stack of flapjacks and placed it on the table just barely out of range for my arms to grab.

“What do you want to know?” I stared daggers at him and folded my arms in irritation.

He pulled out a chair in front across the table from me and played with the bacon with a fork— taunting me to slather his face with butter of a splash of milk on his head.

“Dad, if you’re not gonna talk, I’m gonna have my breakfast now.” Trying to reach for the plate. He pulled back the plate ever so slowly, not allowing me to grab even a slither of pork from the plate.

“Come on, Dad! I’m gonna be late!”

He gave out a laugh which made my eye twitch and gave me more reason to reach for the milk. “So, son, what are your plans for today?” He started.

“Uh. School? Home? Homework?”

“And what are you planning to do meanwhile?”

“Huh?”

“I know your plans. I know you’ve talked to your teacher and the bus driver for a favor.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. But for what?” He cupped his chin with his right hand and placed his elbow on top of the table while still playing with the bacon with his other hand. I stared blankly at him. My dad was a cop and could easily read body language. Luckily for me, he was a cop and I’ve become a pro at trying to get away with my hand in the cookie jar for so many years.

“Look son, I’ll make you a deal.” He took a slice of bacon and taunted me near enough to me so much that I could smell the smoked fat. “You tell me what you’re up to and I’ll give you your breakfast and we could all avoid being late.”

“Fine. I plan to tell her today.”

“Today?” He motioned forward as a sign of intrigue.

“Yeah.” And I looked away in embarrassment.

“Don’t get me wrong. Melissa is a nice girl, but what’s with the favors?”

“Dad, I’ve planned for this moment for a very long time. Surely, a little presentation and fireworks wouldn’t hurt.” And crossed my arms and relaxed on the backrest. Dad did the same and we were looking at each other at the satisfaction of out victories.

“I raised you well, son. Now, come get your bacon.” And placed the bacon on the plate and pushed the plate in my direction.

I ate my breakfast quickly, grabbed my bag and went for the door. My dad was clearing the table, when I looked back. “Dad?”

He turned around with the dishes at hand. “Bye, son. Good luck.”

“Thanks, dad.” And I exited and walked to the bus stop. The autumn air was quite cold and almost all the leaves from the tree tops have fallen. Save for a few orange ones fighting of the wind in all futility.

I took out a book from my bag and started to ‘pretend reading’ while reviewing all my plans. Today has to be perfect. She has to know… everything.

My thoughts were stolen with the gentle sound of footsteps coming closer. It was her— Melissa. I tried my best not to acknowledge her presence and patiently waited for the bus to arrive. It’s gonna be a long day… for the both of us.

Source: robiotics

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  • 1 year ago
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Second Passing [a love story - prologue]

Melissa? Melissa?

“Derrick? I’m here.”

Help! Somebody help us!

“Derrick, I’m sorry.”

Anybody? Help!

And Derrick’s shouting faded away into a soft lull…

——————-

Author’s note: This would be the second installment of Fleeting Moments…

Source: robiotics

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  • 1 year ago
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Alam kong malabo. Screencap ng isa sa mga post sa drafts ko. Ang weird lang. Inuna ko munang itype yung ending ng lovestory na naisip ko kagabi. Hahaha. Pero pati ako kinikilig. :”>
Yeah, maiksi pa, kasi yan palang namanage kong itype bago agawin ng tatay ko laptop. Hehe. Will be expecting part 1 to be posted sometime this… year? Hahaha. :P
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Alam kong malabo. Screencap ng isa sa mga post sa drafts ko. Ang weird lang. Inuna ko munang itype yung ending ng lovestory na naisip ko kagabi. Hahaha. Pero pati ako kinikilig. :”>

Yeah, maiksi pa, kasi yan palang namanage kong itype bago agawin ng tatay ko laptop. Hehe. Will be expecting part 1 to be posted sometime this… year? Hahaha. :P

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  • 1 year ago
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Fleeting moments [a love story - part 9]

Click here for the prologue, and for part one, two, three, four, five,  six, seven and eight.

—————————————————————————-

The past mile was spent in silence. As the sunset drew to a close, the street lamps turned on at the first blink of night and illuminated the pavement on both sides. Home stretch, we’re almost less than a mile from my house. I could already make out the silhouette of the bus stop. It was cold— winter was on its way.

I couldn’t help but sigh at this scene. We were having such a great time before. I shouldn’t have butted in on his affairs. It was stupid of me to think that I could ever replace that girl in his heart. I shouldn’t have let that incident happen earlier. I should have just called my mom to pick me up and everything would have been alright.

“I’m sorry…” Derrick said from up front, but didn’t look back.

I was dead hesitant to answer, but I still said, “For what?” And I looked away from his direction.

“For earlier,” and paused for a moment. “For doing that.”

“Oh.” I forced a nervous giggle. “Let’s forget about it. It’ll be our little secret.” A secret? A lie. Everything that happened today would have been a lie, and lies hurt. It would have been painful for me to forget what had happened. I lost my first kiss to the guy I really loved while he was thinking of another girl— A girl who’s now dead.

I was taken aback by my own thoughts. I gave a quick glance at Derrick and blushed. I haven’t thought about it before, but I can’t deny that I just did. I think I love him, painful as it seems. I love a guy who’s in love with an impossibility. But, I can’t blame him. If he’d kick the bucket, I’d have a pretty hard time getting over it myself.

I really should have told you that I love you. But now, it seems that it’s too late and I don’t have a chance… I accidentally said my thoughts out loud.

“What?” He paused and turned around and gave me a half-surprised-half-puzzled look.

“What?” I gave him an equally surprised and puzzled look. “What is it?”

“What you just said a while ago.”

“But I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes you did. You said that you should have told me that you,” paused to think about his next few words. “… love me. But now, it was too late and that you don’t have a chance.”

I was left agape. Did I really say that out loud? God no. Please. This was too embarrassing. I let out a giggle as if I went nuts or something. “I didn’t mean anything,” looked away. “I’m sorry…”

“But I…” He choked on a word he can’t seem to say.

I waved it off and said, “Please forget about it.”

I suddenly walked away, passing right in front of his semi-frozen expression of shock. I should have started running by then. But two paces past him, he caught me by the wrist and held it in a soft grip. I could have easily shaken off that grip, but something stopped me from doing so. I didn’t look back at him— one, it was too embarrassing, and two, I already started crying. I didn’t want to let him know, so I kept silent. I hid my face and didn’t let him see the tears rolling off my cheeks and falling on the cold pavement below.

“You’re crying aren’t you,” he said in a deep concerned voice. I can’t help jerking while crying. I didn’t answer. If I answered, my voice would have confirmed the obvious.

He let go of his grip and I withdrew them back, letting it fall gently by my waist. I heard footsteps on the pavement and a pair of arms fondled around me in an embrace, just below my clavicle. I froze at this and clenched my fists, but I still kept crying. I felt his forehead resting at the back of my head.

“But I do…” He whispered beneath his breath. “I do love you too. I love you very much.” I felt a soft jerk and realized that he too was crying. “I’ve loved you for a very long time. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

My fists loosened. I lifted my hands and held on to his arms. My breathing calmed down a little bit. There was that moment of silence, as if the world stopped moving around us.

“Is it true?” I asked.

“Yes.” He whispered. His crying seemed to have calmed down a bit, but there were still traces of grief in his answer.

“But what about that girl?” I winced at the thought of her.

“It’s complicated.”

“Why? Don’t you still love her?”

“I do…” And paused, “but I love you.”

“I can’t compete with a dead person. Especially if you’re left with those perfect little memories of her. While I’m here, left to be compared with her. I’m not perfect. I’m just alive…” Every word hurts like hell. I gritted my teeth in partial anger. There was a flood of emotions, and I don’t know which to show.

“You should probably read the message in the bottle.”

“Why should I? If the letter was for her.”

“It’s for you…”

I tried to shake him off to get the letter, but he said, “read it later.”We don’t have much time left.” There was an ominous trace of dread in his voice.

“Why?”

“We have to get you home.”

“We’re not in a hurry.”

“Please. Just trust me.” Now, there was a sense of concern and haste in his words.

“Why? What’s wrong?” I was starting to feel scared.

“What time is it?”

I looked at my wristwatch and read, “8:30. Why?”

He didn’t answer. He held on to the embrace a little bit tighter. “Just remember that you’re the one and only person that I’ve ever loved, Melissa.”

—————-

I heard tires screeching from behind us. I tried to took back and see what it was, but Derrick’s head was keeping me from turning. Suddenly, Derrick’s embrace loosened and a strong set of arms flung me to the road. I found myself on the road and remembered the speeding car. I saw my shadow growing on the road, a pair of head lights illuminating me from behind. There was a loud popping sound, like a tire that gave way. The light source swerved to the left and I heard a crash.

Everything happened in a matter of seconds. I tried to recount why I was on the road… Derrick.

I got up and felt a slight scrape on my elbow and knees. I didn’t mind the pain, cos’ I was more concerned with Derrick. I looked around and saw a wreck. A car was pinned to a tree and the driver was jammed inside. But… I can’t find Derrick anywhere.

“Derrick?” I called. “Derrick?” I called again, but no answer.

“Derrick where are you? Answer me.”  I feared the worst. He could have been pinned between the car and the tree. He could have been under that wreck. He could be… dead.

Derrick? Derrick? Derrick? I desperately searched for him around the wreck. He wasn’t there.

I heard someone cough. I looked at that direction. I saw a figure on the ground. I rushed to it and found Derrick. He was in horrible shape. The car had flung him 15 feet away from where we stood just a while ago.

I took out my phone and dialled 911. I spoke to the operator and described the scene. She asked me to keep calm and wait for the ambulance.

“Please! Hurry!” I was in too much shock to cry.

“Melissa?” He said from what little strength he could muster.

I dropped my phone on the ground with the operator still on the line. I knelt down and saw him more clearly. He was beaten-up really badly. There were cuts all over his face and arms. I saw little compared to what damage could have been done underneath his clothes. “Derrick? You shouldn’t talk. Save your strength.”

“Melissa. Melissa. Are you there?” His speech was slurry.

“Shh. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” I held on to his hand to let him have sense of my presence.

“Melissa… I’m so sorry…” His breathing was laboured and painful every time he spoke.

“For what?” I’m at the brink of crying.

“I… should have… told you… sooner…” And he lost consciousness.

“Derrick? Wake up. Derrick? Stay with me.” I gripped his hand tighter, almost to cause him pain, so that he’d wake up. But, I got no response.

I looked around for any signs of help. “Help!” I yelled.

“Anybody? Please. Help us!” There was the sound of barking dogs in the distance, but no sign of anybody at all.

Help! Anybody! Please help us!

Source: robiotics

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  • 2 years ago
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Fleeting Moments [a love story - part 8]

Click here for the prologue, and for part one, two, three, four, five,  six and seven.

—————————————————————————-

“I want you to have this.” He handed me the bottle with the letter still inside. He placed it on my hand, the one he’d been holding all this time. He gently closed my hand, with the treasure in my grasp. He held my hand in a soft grip, but in a firm gesture to take care of it and never let go.

I noticed that all the while, my heart calmed down and my panicking all gone. That’s when I broke a smile and said, “Thanks…” Moments passed and we were left staring at each other.

Gravity. I felt as if something was pulling me towards him. I was actually beginning to lean in closer to him, but I didn’t know why. It occurred to me that Derrick was gently pulling on to my sleeve and was the perpetrator of this seemingly romantic moment.

My eyes kept track or the slowly closing distance between our faces. My vision leaped from his lips to his eyes. He was unperturbed by what he’s planning to do. Moments passed and I could almost feel his warm breathing. I started to close my eyes and almost submitted to what he was planning on doing.

He’s close. I can feel his soft inhales and exhales. He stopped breathing and I knew that the distance between our lips were non-existent. Curiosity stuck me, and peeked a little bit. I’ve never been this close to him before. I could see all his features ever so clearly. I was swimming in his scent from this distance — a mixture of bath soap, cologne and a hint of sweat. Well, you can’t blame him for the sweat part, he was carrying my ever since we crossed the bridge.

Everything was overwhelming… I was overwhelmed, and all the while we were inching closer yet still…

My upper lip started brushing up against his. It was soft and nothing I’ve ever imagined…

Another car passed by and the noise rattled me a bit, steeling me from my daze and made me realize what in the hell we we’re doing. So, I pulled back with a jolt and inhaling a lung full of cold autumn air. I was panicking again and the sudden inhale of cold air made me cough once or twice. But I was deflecting, I was distracting myself and or Derrick with incohesive gestures, arm waving and giggling.

But, I failed to notice that same sad look in his eyes. Deep in me, I felt that I did something wrong…

Without a word, he stood up and forced a grin, as if nothing had happened. But, it was clear that he was shielding the pain. He can’t hide it from his eyes. He extended a hand, urging me to try and stand up.

“We should probably get going before it gets dark,” he said.

I hung my head low and didn’t look him in the eyes. I hurt him in some way. In some way I could not ever possibly explain. I put on my shoe. It dried up quickly in the cold air, but it felt cold and made me shiver when I putted it on. I placed the bottle in my backpack and went in his direction.

We walk up-hill, but I stayed behind one or two steps. I can’t face him after that. I don’t know, but I just might cry here with out warning. There’s this emotion, this guilt that was choking me up and made me hold my breath and want to disappear…

Source: robiotics

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  • 2 years ago
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Fleeting Moments [a love story - part 7]

Click here for the prologue, and for part one, two, three, four, five and six.

———————————————————————————-

“You remember that bottle I took from under the bridge?”

“Yeah. You said that you were remembering a friend.”

“Mhm. A friend…” I caught a hint of sadness in his tone.

“Why? What happened?” My curiosity leading the way.

“You really wanna know?” He looked at me with those eyes… as if he was about to cry.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” I looked away and fiddled with my fingers. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too personal. It’s just that you seemed so sad.” I looked back, but the pang I felt when my conscience mentally kicked me in the head was still there. 

He gave out a sad smile, looked up to the sky and said, “She’s up there now.”

“Where?” I said plainly as I was almost reluctant to believe his words. Though I knew deep down that he was saying that this someone wasn’t here anymore, I can’t bear to look into his sad eyes.

“I don’t know. Andromeda maybe?” He chuckled a little, but he still can’t hide the pain. “She’s just gone…”

I let that last message trail into the wind. A long moment passed and I said ever so cautiously, “What happened?”

He looked at me with those eyes almost up to the breaking point of crying. “I don’t know. They said that a drunk driver took her while walking home.” Two small droplets glided down his cheeks. I could feel all the pain and sadness he felt that moment. It almost makes me wanna cry too.

“Where…” I held my breath and thought about the consequences of my question. I bit my lip and started again with a hint of hesitation, “Where were you?”

He gave a big grin and covers his face-up with both his hands. He was crying. I made him cry. I was guilt stuck with the callousness of my question. I shouldn’t have prodded on. I tried to reach for him. I wanted to pat him on the shoulder, as if that would help ease his pain.

I put my right hand on his left shoulder and felt him stiffen-up at the touch of my hand. I drew small circles on his back with the palm of my hands to ease him a bit. He soon softened-up and tried to relax his breathing. I was somehow proud of myself for this little gesture. It’s not about the stroke of the hand on someone’s back. It’s how you let them feel that their still connected to this world and that someone still cares.

He stopped crying, but he still didn’t show his face. I stopped moving and placed my hand on his shoulder. A moment passed and I felt him ease up to my hand. I was unsure of what to do, so I pulled back my hand very slowly. He felt this and quickly yet gently took my hand into his. Now his left hand grabbed on to my retreating right hand. This shocked me. I didn’t know that to say.

He pulled my in closer. I felt that he was gesturing me to listen in on what he was about to say. As I came in closer, I saw that his eyes were puffy and his cheeks were blushing.

“I was right beside her when it happened…”

Moments passed as I just stared at him in disbelief. That explains a lot why he cried so much.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

He held on to my hand and I felt him tightening up. I almost expected him to cry again, but he said instead, “I don’t remember everything but…” He gave out a small sigh, as if he was recounting it in agony for the first time.

“We were walking home from school. And I just…” He tightened up his hold on me as if he was in so much pain. “I just told her earlier how I felt about her. It took me a year to sum up that courage. I wrote it all down in a letter to her, but I hid it in a bottle and hid the bottle under a bridge.”

“Why’d you hide it?”

“I wrote a date on it. So that if I did ever tell her, years from now, we could come back to it and show her how I loved her from then on.” His grip loosened up, but he still didn’t let go.

He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and continued. “I was so happy that day. She told me that we shared the same feeling. She liked me too. I couldn’t have believed it if she didn’t held on to my hand— fingers interlaced. But I heard tires screech, she looked back to see what it was and before I knew it, I found myself on the cold hard pavement. She pushed me away at the last moment.” He took my hand with both of his and I felt tears falling on at the back of my hand.

“I never even got to say good bye. I never got the chance to show her how much I loved her. I never got the chance tell her that she’s the love of my life, and how it will forever pain me to let her go into another world all alone…”

“But she’s never alone,” I interjected. “She’ll always be with you. Deep down inside your heart, she’s always there. And as long as you shall remember her, she stays alive… in you.” I let him take-in every word I said. I saddens me to see him in such pain like this.

I knew that somewhere in his head, he found comfort in my words. He finally smiled; on that was different from earlier. This smile had a sense of liberation, a reprieve from all the weight that he carried. He took my hand closer to his face and kissed the palm of my hand. My fingers brushed his cheeks, and it was softer than I’d ever imagine. But upon the realization that Derrick was kissing my hand, my warm blood ran straight to my flustered cheeks.

[to be continued]

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  • 2 years ago
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Fleeting Moments [a love story - part 6]

Click here for the prologue, and for part one, two, three, four and five.

———————————————————————-

It’s dark again…

*sound of a car crash*

What’s that?

“Melissa!”

Who’s there?

Who’s crying?

What happened?

Hello…

Is anybody there?

Hello?

——

“Melissa? Hey. Melissa?”

I began a slow soft groan. I started to stir and revert back to reality. When I opened my eyes, the scenery around me was moving. Why? What’s going on?

“Hey. Melissa, you alright?”

“Yeah. I’m ok, Derrick.” I closed my eyes again and buried my head on my moving pillow. ‘Derrick? Wait… what?’ My blood ran cold and my eyes shot wide open in realization of the situation. I fell asleep while Derrick was carrying me on a piggyback. Panic set in and I began to squirm. Derrick loss balance and before I knew it, we both fell over. Luckily, the landing was much grassier as compared to the much harder and less comfortable pavement, five inches away from ground zero.

“Ouch…” I have to admit, the grass was much better than pavement, but it wasn’t a mattress. It still hurts a little. Derrick quickly got up and tried to pat off the dirt from his jeans.

“Are you ok?” He asked in concern.

“Yeah.” I tried to get up, but I remembered that I only had one shoe on. Derrick gave a hand out to me. I gladly obliged and said, “Sorry about that,” and meant every word of it.

“What happened anyway?”

“Umm… I don’t know. I panicked.” It was so embarrassing. I can’t believe it tripped us over like that.

“Well, as long as you’re okay.” He looked ahead for a bit and said, “There’s a rest stop not far from here. Maybe we should go there and rest for a bit.”

I simply nodded in agreement. Derrick knelt once more before me and urged me to hop on again for another piggyback to the rest stop. I hesitated for a bit, but he insisted on it. I can’t help but say yes.

We’re going on an uphill road. I know where were going since we pass that rest stop every morning on the bus. As we continued on, the scenery changed dramatically. Higher and higher, the hill was overlooking the whole town. It was beautiful. Treetops were a bright orange as autumn sun began to set. I could see the park from here and I could even make out where the plaza should be, a small clearing in the middle. I could see the school from here, town hall, the mall, and a lot of suburban houses filed neatly in rows. The sky was cloudless; and you could still see up to the horizon… the ocean. It was as blue as the sky. And in the perfect blend of autumn colors, the view was one of a kind in the world.

We reached the rest stop— nothing fancy, just a couple of benches, two posts and a roof. But the view was spectacular, nonetheless.

“Maybe we should rest for a while,” Derrick insisted. I sat on the bench first at faced the view. He followed suit and sat beside me and faced the road. For a moment, there was an awkward silence— nothing but the wind broke the dead air.

A passing sedan took our attention, and when it finally passed, our eyes met and stared at each other for a split second. We both started laughing. I don’t know if its for the anti-climactic passing of the sedan, or maybe my little panic earlier that lead to our descent to the ground, or maybe the little slip off the stream, or maybe we’re just laughing at me, but it felt good. It took a full minute to calm us down. We let out some small giggles until the laughing died down.

That certainly help released some tension, because, after that, Derrick broke the silence barrier between us…

[to be continued]

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  • 2 years ago
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Fleeting Moments [a love story - part 5]

Click here for the prologue, and for part one, two, three and four.

————————————————————————————-

The long walk continued on, until I heard the pitter-patter of streaming water. An estuary that connected to the open ocean, a few kilometers away, obstructed our way home. The brook bisected the park and was hidden in the cover of woodland, but a stone path was made for the convenience of not-getting-lost — cobblestones dating back to the late nineteen hundreds. I’ve read in a book that before the park was renovated by the late Mayor Tip, people would chop a tree down, neat the water’s edge, clear off the branches and ‘presto’— a log bridge. 

Luckily, some 80 years ago, people decided to build an arched bridge crossing the brook. Praise them for having the technology of finally building a more stable bridge. And since then, they named the bridge, “Brook Pass”. A minus for the lack of imagination on their part, but this town never had any historic battles or housed any saints. The bridge was built to make it look almost rustic to mimic that of the traditional log bridges. But as wood shall always decay, efforts for preserving the wooden bridge reached the peek of its controversy upon the introduction of pressure treated arsenic timber, when the bridge was constructed and the old one preserved in a museum. Until the usage of such hazardous wood treatment was banned, in fear of poisoning the brook, the town hall dropped the idea of making wood bridges and made the more permanent and less potent stone arched bridge and ironically renamed, “Timber Bridge”.

The park was huge, thus the essentialness of our little shortcut. It’s either through the park or around it. The bus always drives around park and through an over-deck truss bridge with steel girders and wooded carriageway, made to accommodate heavy traffic over a wider part of the small river. But, a trip through the park seemed nicer and shorter.

The sound of our shoes meeting cobblestone ground was the only thing breaking the silence in between us. And as we neared the brook, the wind began to chill a little bit. I held my arms in closer and hugged myself. The thought of Derrick putting his arms around me and sharing ‘body heat’ brushed my mind and brushed my cheek with a blush. Derrick noticed it and maybe mistook it as a reaction to the cold, and asked, “You alright?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just the cold that’s all.” I made a faint smile of reassurance. He nodded and continued on the walk until we reached the bridge. But, sooner before we began to cross it, he stopped and said, “Could you wait for just a moment?”

“What? Sure.” I puzzled at his motion.

“Great,” and he proceeded to the side of the bridge, down a small slope, and I lost sight of him.

“What are you doing?” I whispered. He didn’t answer. So I went over to him, to see where he went.

“Derrick!” I yelped, which echoed into the woods. He was standing in a large slab of rock in the middle of the stream. “How’d you get there?” I asked in confusion as to why he’s down there.

“I skipped through the rocks,” and pointed out a neat row of rocks making stepping-stones towards the where Derrick is standing.

“Well, what are you doing there?” I finally asked, in my concern for the cold waters beneath him.

“I’m remembering someone.” I was even more puzzled with his vague answer. I watched him as he dipped his hand into the ice cold water and under the slab. He pulled out some rocks and found a water bottle. There was a piece of paper in the half soaked bottle, which luckily survived its underwater hiding place.

“What is that?”

“A friend,” and paused to think, “Well, a memory of a friend.” He skipped back over the rocks and headed towards me. I headed on over to the shore and planned to meet him there. But, with all the poise, grace and balance in the world leaving the room, I gave out a scream and slipped into the almost freezing water. I flailed my arms in instinct to grab on to something, and I found a hand grabbing on to mine. I regained what little composure I had and tried to get a footing. My foot plunged into the water and the other on dry land.

The water was cold, and felt like a thousand needles prickling every nerve. Derrick pulled me back over to terra firma and didn’t let go. “Are you ok?”

“It’s c…c…cold.” I stammered by the numbness of my foot to the cold. Derrick, not letting go of my hand, pulled me back to the path and urged me to sit at a bench near the foot of the bridge. He pulled of my soaked shoes and socks and rolled up the leg of my jeans. He placed his warm hands over my foot until I calmed down.

The embarrassment of slipping and the awkwardness of the situation ravaged through my cheeks and made blush furiously, so I tried to cover my face with the palm of my hands. He didn’t let go until he felt my foot warm-up again, and said, “You could have had frostbite.”

I didn’t make a sound, and just nodded.

“How do you feel?” Kneeling in front of me and was almost at eye level.

“Better,” I whispered.

“You should be more careful.”

“I know.”

He made a small sigh and turned around, still in kneeling position. “Hop on.” He said looking back at me.

“What?” I was almost too hesitant to realize what he wants me to do.

“Well, you can’t walk around with one shoe, right?” He pointed out to my still soaked shoe. “I’ll give you a piggyback.”

“What?” I was too reluctant to accept. “No. I can walk.”

“With one shoe?”

“I can manage.”

“You’ll hurt your foot.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Like last time? On the riverbed?”  I shrugged his last comment and resisted on. I didn’t want to be a burden to anyone, especially not to Derrick. I just can’t!

“I won’t accept no for an answer, Melissa,” and pulled me up to him. My arms were around his neck with my body resting on his back and my legs were held-up by his hands. I was speechless from the moment he called my name until I realized that we were already walking over the bridge.

I’ve never imagined this moment, not even in my wildest dreams. But this wasn’t a dream, cos’ everything felt so real. I was ever so near enough that I could smell the scent of his hair. My arms could feel the strength of his shoulder. My mind felt that he was never going to give up until he carried me home. The blood rush to my face was overwhelming. And so I tried to bury my face, but without thinking, I buried it to the side of his head on top of his shoulder.

I heard a small chuckle from him. Maybe he was laughing at my carelessness. Maybe he found it amusing that I was such a klutz. Maybe he was laughing at how pathetic I am.

“Cute,” he said.

“What?” I whispered to his shoulder, not lifting my head.

“Nothing. It’s just that every small gesture you try to make seem… cute.” He chuckled under his breath. I couldn’t react. I buried my face deeper, so that he wouldn’t notice a scintilla of blush on my face. I don’t know what to feel at this moment.

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  • 2 years ago
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Fleeting Moments [a love story - part 4]

Click here for the prologue, and for part one, two and three.

—————————————————————————————

The autumn wind was cooler than usual. It must be because winter is drawing closer. The faintest breeze ran goose bumps up my spine for the nth time. But, I didn’t show my partial distress for the cold on this particularly long walk home, because Derrick was right beside me.

On the way home, we were going to pass a small park, a creek and an up-hill road. Roughly a few good kilometers from home sweet home, though it might as well have been three hundred light years away. I tried to keep my breathing steady, though I cant say the same for my heart. It was pacing like crazy.

We were approaching the park; and in my head I was relieved to see a familiar landmark, yet I can’t say that I’m already out of the woods. We’ll take a shortcut through the park, I insisted cause it’d be much faster— all in my favor.

The park was quiet, solemn not eerie. We entered a wrought iron gate. It was probably there since the park first opened in 1908, but it was kept well maintained through the years cos’ it looked as if it was placed there yesterday. Great big piles of leaves were scattered all over the park. I was almost tempted to run right into them like a stampede of gazelles in the savanna, but I didn’t because Derrick could have seen my embarrassing childish moment.

Violin… I heard a violin playing, and I know he heard it too. It came in the direction the plaza. There was a plaza in the middle of the park, a gazebo can be found at the center of it all and was surrounded with a bright patch of lilies— though now left an empty plot since the flowers were harvested for the winter, old oak benches were positioned to face the gazebo, a marble fountain was the crowning glory of the plaza— an assortment of 6 cherubs holding wine jugs, but pouring water into the shallow pool below.

We came about the plaza and found a girl, maybe a few years older than us. She was beautiful, with her long ebony hair gently draping her figure and gracefully ending by curve of her hips. She was playing this violin that looked really old, but it played the most wonderful sound. It read on the case, “Stradivarius”, but it felt that I’ve heard that brand somewhere.

We came by the gazebo and lingered for a minute. We took our time to bathe in the melody of a Stradivarius. I closed my eyes and the music seemed to calm my heart down. It gave me a small measure of warmth at the pit of my stomach, and completely swallowed me into a deep sense of euphoria. Every stroke sent a flutter of notes, each note made me hope to hold on to it for a while longer. But as the melody played, the note must end and begin anew.

I opened my eyes when the piece ended and saw her gently opening her eyes, as if waking up from a dream. “Beautiful,” I whispered and noticed Derrick was looking at me. I gave a small blush, and kept my attention at the violinist before us.

She noticed us and gave a sweet smile and said, “I see you two are back here again.”

I was confused at her statement. When have I ever walked with Derrick here? When have I walked with him ever? I was dumbfounded by her words.

“But we’ve never…” I started, but was abruptly cut-off by Derrick.

“Oh. You’re talking about another friend of mine,” and gave a meek smile.

“Really, but I could have sworn it was h…” She bit her lip at thought for a moment. “Oh. Right. She’s not the same one as last time.”

I kept my mouth shut and took in every bit of information I was hearing. I thought: did Derrick have a girlfriend? Did they used to come here often? How did she know him?

As my thoughts lingered, I kept my sights on her violin. She caught me staring at it and said, “The violin is a very beautiful instrument. Much like a person, it shows emotion and character. Every violin has its own unique sound, the subtlest of difference in the music even if the same craftsman makes it. My Stradivarius plays a gentle sound, much like of a baby. You’ll nurture this sound and make it grow into an melody.”

“Well then it makes very beautiful music,” and gave a shy smile.

Our conversation was interrupted when a pair of men in suits came. “Madam, the car is waiting.”

“Well, I think it’s time to make my exit.” She made a small curtsy and was assisted by the suits. She looked back to us and said, “My name is Beatrice, by the way.” She nodded as a final goodbye and went away.

We watched them as they disappeared at a turn. Derrick motioned for us to continue on our walk home. I obliged and felt a little bit more comfortable after that small performance. Though I can’t seem to figure out why her name sounded familiar and everything that just happened was deja vu.

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  • 2 years ago
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About

KEVIN ROB E. ISIDRO
20 Biologist-Bartender-Banker.
I'd write some epic description about my future dreams and aspirations, but I'm too busy making them happen right now.
I fluctuate between a photo blog, a food blog, random shit and love stories.
BTW, I don't own a DSLR, but I do have a Nikon Coolpix P500 that I got for my graduation.

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