Leonora

Jose coughed out the blood filling his lungs, eager to breathe for a bit. He was slowly losing his sight around the chaos. It didn't matter. They had served their purpose. He knew that independence would soon be in their hands.

He closed his tired eyes as he clasped on the pendant locket he often wears around his neck, trying to reminisce the scent of Leonora's favorite ylang-ylang clinging on it. His lips curved into a painful smile. She would definitely cry the moment the news reached her in her family estate back in San Isidro. It wouldn't matter. He would rather die knowing she would experience freedom than to live under fear of oppression.

The strong scent of rust overpowered Leonora's perfume as Jose coughed up blood once again. He fell on his back and slumped beside a broken wagon. He reminisced the times they would meet behind the stables, their special meeting place, to be able to walk around the plaza. However, with his meager salary as a farmhand, how could he even buy her something precious and grandiose that would rival the gifts of her suitors?

The first droplets of tears fell down from his eyes, as he uttered soft prayers of a dying man. Despite the heat of May, the blooming of flowers around that battlefield, Jose felt the cold slowly eating him inside as he tried to cling on to his life. But it didn't matter anymore. As long as Leonora would be able to experience liberty and see the blooming of the flowers in the next Flores de Mayo. And let her illustrious face be kissed by the blazing summer sun.

"Mahirap man ako, nawa'y tanggapin mo itong aking regalo, mahal ko," he whispered as he heaved his last breath, "Nawa'y matamasa mo ang kasarinlan, Leonora."