Short Stories

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Before, when I was a kid at the age of 8, I dreamt of standing on the edge of the lips of a volcano. Looking down the red hot flaming (not) lava that could melt anything, if touched, inside the mountain, like a smoky red pus waiting to broke out and flow. It is where ashes of smoke never bothered my sense of smell, it is where I can see a wide yellow red ocean that sparkles calamity as ostentatious as the fact that it touches the deepest floor, that humans described of theories but never was really seen with their curious eyes. I can see the gist of dark igneous rock, surrounding the vast vicious viscous liquid that seemed to never end, that solidified willingly as they stayed there for a long time. It was captivating, alluring, bewitching, enticing, fascinating, whatever words synonymous to the word beautiful that never satiate the beauty and wonder of the world. Yet, I never really dared to come down. It looks like hell, where many of the people will suffer, through their actions, ahead of the present time.

Then the day came, I matured, and learned knowledge through the pages and experience. That was when my eyes opened, my imaginations widen and at the same time, some were forced to come an end. I found out in the horrible reality of this cruel world, that does not deserve kids innocence, the fact that it was a lie — all a lie. I never thought, from every corner of my mind, that before you can even step in that edge —volcanoes mouth, hundreds meter far from the lips, your feet will immediately turn into a tasteless barbeque human meat.

Note: Naglilibang lamang po. Hindi ko alam kung anong sumapi saakin at ginawa ko ito. Hshs