Unfinished Tale (✔️)

Kabanata 3

TW: Suicidal Ideation 

Cleotha

"Él no está regresando..." I uttered, recalling the Spanish words that I uttered in my dream when I took a nap in the bus last Monday. I seem to have understood those words when I was dreaming, but when I woke up, I suddenly forgot it.

This always happens. Naiintindihan ko sa loob ng panaginip, pero pagbangon ko, hindi ko na naaalala kahit anong pilit ko pa. Pinipilit ko ang sariling alalahanin ang kahulugan nito na halos sabunutan ko na ang sarili, pero mas lalo lamang itong sumasakit. Inis na lang akong bumuntong ng hininga.

I tried to write those words on my notebook where I wrote the prologue of my new novel. Alam kong may internet naman kung saan puwede akong mag-research, but I don't know what's wrong with me that I want to understand it on my own because I can feel that I have the ability to understand it. Hihintayin ko na lang ang araw na maiintindihan ko ito na wala na ako sa panaginip.

Tiningnan ko ang palapulsuhan ko. I remember asking my mother when I was a kid if what was it. She said that it's a birthmark. Nakita kong may ganoon din siya sa kaniyang batok, pero hindi naman ganito kalala ang hitsura. The birthmark on my wrist looks awful. Para akong pinarusahan. Para itong sumpa na habang buhay akong uusigin.

Napalunok ako nang marahan ko itong hinaplos. Kahit hindi naman masakit, pakiramdam ko, pinupunit ang puso ko habang dinaramdam ito. This is my biggest insecurity in life. Naalala ko noong elementary, ang balat kong ito ang palaging inaasar sa 'kin ng mga lalaki kong kaklase. Hanggang ngayon, dala-dala ko pa rin. Especially that before them, my Mom said it looks so ugly while laughing. Kaya palagi na akong nagsusuot ng bracelet hanggang ngayon upang matakpan ito.

My dream while caressing my wounded wrist seems to have a connection to this birthmark on my wrist.

Hinarap ko ang sariling repleksiyon sa salamin. It really feels so strange to look at myself with emotionless eyes on the mirror because I have several dreams about it. It often screams deja vu.

Inilingan ko ang sarili at binalik ang tingin sa notebook na sinulatan ko ng mga salita. Pinuntahan ko ang pahinang nakasulat ang simula ng kuwento. Prologo pa lang talaga ang naisulat ko dahil sa sunod-sunod na demand activities ng subject teachers namin kahit first week pa lang ng second sem.

Since I'm already done with the two essays in Creative Writing and other assignments, maybe I can lend my time for this. Sinulat kong muli ang buong pangalan ng dalawang bidang karakter sa kuwento. This would be my first time to write a historical fiction novel with romance. Naging inspiration ko ang naging panaginip ko.

Maria Isabella Fonseca y Flores
Lucas Delgado y Suarez

Saglit akong napatitig sa apelyidong Delgado. As far as I can remember, I heard this surname from my dream. That dream of mine last Monday. Pero hindi iyon ang rason kung bakit iyan ang pinili kong apelyido para sa leading man ng nobela. Sadyang iyon lang ang biglaang naisip ko.

The paper of our tale seems to tear,
I can hear its sound and it trapped me in fear,
For I could no longer feel its entirety,
It is filled with melancholy instead of glee,
Every word was torn like a piece of trash,
The souls we poured onto it seem to crush,

The tale I wrote for us is still unfinished,
And fear engulfed me for it slowly vanished,
It says 'the end' when we're still in the middle,
Why does fate have to meddle?
The book of tale about us became empty,
My tears dissipate every symbol of our story.

Screaming in anguish in front of a lake,
Kneeling in despair with the sobs I make,
I was trying to save my heart from agony,
But how when it's the home of disharmony?
I was trying to save our dear tale,
But how...