• A MOTORCYCLE REVVED then speeded away.

    She woke up, opened her eyes, and saw the clearing cloud of smoke that the motorcycle left on his trail.

    The girl dressed in an old white, but now grayish brown, daster sat down at the sidewalk with her back leaned against the thick railings of the great Nagtahan Bridge.

    This was where she lives. This was where she sleeps. This was where she walks back and forth all day humming, sometimes singing:
    Madilim ang ‘yong paligid, hating-gabing walang hanggan
    Anyo at kulay ng mundo sa ‘yo’y pinagkaitan

    The people called her Frida. She had long hair, about chest-length, that was all dirty and tangled and somehow resembled a bird’s nest. Her face was unrecognizable because of her bushy hair that almost covered half of her face. She was thin and short, and her skin was brown and old and had some stains of dirt. Her long daster had countless stains of food, dirt, and the black stuff that came out from vehicles’ mufflers. It also had many holes and its hem at the back part was torn all the way up to below her buttocks. She walks back and forth on the pavement all day begging for alms from people who pass by, and sometimes, from cars when the traffic is heavy.

    She was sitting at a pile of newspapers, that were also her bed, and staring at the still cool cloudless sky while humming. Her peace was broken when she heard a faint clank sound from the part of the metal railing a few inches away from her head.

    “Aaw! I missed!” said a boy in blue shorts.
    “Ha! You owe me five pesos! Now It’s my turn to throw a rock!” said a boy in red.
    “That’s unfair! She was moving!” explained the boy in blue.
    Frida stood up with difficulty while holding on to the metal railings to support her. She ran after the boys who ran away fast and clumsily while teasing her: Frida! Frida! May gurang na impokrita!
    “Hoy! Come back here you brats!”

    The wind blew hard and a leaf of the pile of newspapers flew in the air and landed at the land below the bridge.

    The newspaper read: 2 Bodies Found Dead In Pasig River


    “WOULD YOU LIKE a stick of candle, hija?” asked the old woman. “Your wish will surely reach God if you pray after offering a candle to him.”
    “How much is it, lola?”
    “It’s only five pesos per stick”

    The girl reached in her bag, gave the old woman a five-peso coin, and took a stick of candle from her basket then smiled and started to light the candle.

    “Thank you hija. You’ll surely be blessed” Said the old woman.

    She headed to a few benches and sat there. She looked at the little pocket where she puts her earnings in her bag and counted the money. Thirty-six pesos, and it was eleven o’clock-an hour left until lunch time. With the money, she could buy a role of fresh lumpia for lunch and a cup of sago-gulaman from the bangketa outside the church.

    “A-Aling Constancia is that you?” said a girl sitting on the bench behind her.
    The old woman looked behind her and saw a familiar girl in a white fitted polo shirt and faded jeans.

    “Aling Constancia! It IS you!” screamed the girl with excitement.
    “Kara? KARA! Is it really you??” asked aling constancia in shock. “It’s been almost a week. Your mother…your mother-”
    “Mom? Why? Where’s my mom?? How is she?? Is she doing okay? My brothers? How are they?? Where are they? Are they doing well??”
    “Hold on…hold on. Your brothers are all doing ok. But your mom…”
    “Why? What’s wrong with mom?? Where is she, Aling Constancia?!?”
    “Come on, girl!” a voice cut in. “We’re going home now!”

    Aling Constancia looked at the tall man in a loose dark blue polo shirt and jeans. She knew who he was. She could never forget the face that looked a lot like the villains you see in Filipino action movies; the grin that gleamed on a hundred wicked deeds—it was Mr. Moreno.

    “Hey. If it isn’t Aling Constancia…” said the man as he approached. “How’s Theresa doing?” he said with a smirk.

    “What are you doing here?” asked Aling Constancia. “I didn’t know GREAT supervisors still go to church.”

    “Be careful with your tone, tanda...you seem to be forgetting who owns your friend’s daughter. You wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her, would you?”

    “Sir, please let me come back to my family. I want to see my mom and my brothers…please…please sir” pleaded Kara.

    Their scene was catching the peoples’ attention. So the people started leaving the place. Aling Constancia, Kara, and Mr. Moreno were left in the hall with a couple of people, still finishing their prayers, in the other corner of the hall.

    “Give her back now, Mr. Moreno…or else I’ll report this to the police” threatened Aling Constancia.

    “Report all you want. Do you think the police will listen to an old hag like you?” he scoffed. “Come now girl!” He ordered while grabbing Kara’s left wrist.

    “Sir, let go of me please! I want to go back to my family!” Kara begged while pulling her arm away from the man.

    Aling Constancia joined in the struggle by pulling Kara away from Mr. Moreno. But the man was strong and was able to overthrow the old woman. Aling Constancia was pushed off to the floor leaving Mr. Moreno free to drag the girl.

    “Kara! Give her back! Police! POLICE! POLIIICCCEEE!!!”
    “Aling Constancia No! HELP ME! PLEASE! ANYBODY!”

    Mr. Moreno stormed out of the hall while dragging Kara inside his car. The people were looking and sometimes taking glimpses, but only taking glimpses. Mr. Moreno started his car and left the church courtyard.

    Aling Constancia rushed to try and catch up to the car. But a woman of her age, she knew she wouldn’t be able to do anything else. She almost stumbled, but now leaned on the dusty floor of the courtyard.

    “KARA! KARA! KARA!” Aling Constancia cried, almost losing her sanity.

    The people in the yard were all looking at Aling Constancia and sometimes taking glimpses, but only taking glimpses. Aling Constancia went on with her weeping while all the people went on with their activities. She looked around and tried to look for help, but no one dared look at her. Above her skulking and the noise of the vehicles on the road, one voice from the crowd echoed in her head.

    “Poor old woman.”


    AFTER FORCING ME to yield to him, here is where we are, where it all started, I’ll end it here.
    “Kara Lacuesta, sir.”
    “Yes, I know him sir.”
    “J-Just someone I know sir.”
    “He…He called me there through his cell phone sir.”
    “He was already like that when I saw him.”
    “A…a knife…sir.”
    “T-t-thank you, s-sir.”

    When did I last do that? It’s been more than five years. I was in grade school then, so fresh, so innocent, yet at the same time rotting. I remember all the white ones I told: “No mom, it was their fault. Yes mom, I already did my assignment. We had a group work mom.” But now it’s different, I know it’s different. I’ve never went as far as this.

    I left the office guilty of what I’ve done. But still, I’m free. I finally found some use for Mrs. Ramos’ 4 years of acting class in high school. It feels good. It felt so good. Maybe some of HIM rubbed off on me after THAT.

    I think I passed out when he threw me into the car. I opened my eyes, everything’s dark, why’s everything so dark? It’s hot, I feel warm, and I’m going crazy. The devil, I hear him moving. Where’s the devil? Why can’t I move? My legs hurt, in between feels like its burning. I feel my bosom pricked as though it were bleeding. Is it bleeding? Why am I bleeding? It hurts. Please stop. It hurts. Wake me up.

    Where am I? Why am I here? Blood? Why’s there blood? Was I bleeding? Am I still bleeding? I thought I felt myself bleeding. The devil, he’s with me. He’s asleep, I must leave. The door, where’s the door? There’s the door.

    Mom, I did what’s right. That devil did this, and now he’s in hell. Mom, where are you? Are you really there? He said you were there. Are you really there? I’m going there right now mom. Let’s all go to hell.