One-Shot Stories

The Right Decision

Why must he always dictate my life?  Can’t I decide for myself?  These thoughts kept on bugging me ever since yesterday and as I was walking at the park, when I saw an empty can, I kicked it hard.  It flew over and dropped in front of a girl.

“Hey!  You’re not allowed to throw things wherever you want.  You might end up hurting someone with that can,” the girl, probably about my age told me.  Correction, I didn’t throw the can, I kicked it.

“Why do you even care?”

“Well, I’m just concerned with the people who’ll get hurt if you hit them,” she replied.  What a silly excuse.

“Plus,” she said as she picked up the can.  “Littering is bad,” she continued, now throwing the can in the trash bin.  She looked at me and smiled.  “Well I hope you learned something, mister.  I’ll see you around then!” she waved and left.  Wait, did she just say ‘see you around’?  What a weird girl.

“Oh wait!” she shouted.  “Don’t hate your father.  He just wants what’s best for you.  If you don’t like his decision, why don’t you go and talk with him?  Tell him you have your own dreams.  He’ll understand you for sure,” she advised and smiled at me again.  What a warm smile.  It appears as if she doesn’t have any problem.  Wow, I envy her.

I sat down a bench.  How did she know about my problem?  She’s really such a weird girl.

*Ring*Ring*

I picked up my phone.  “Hello?”

Kuya, come home.  Papa’s looking for you.

“Yes, I’ll be there,” I said and ended the call.  Here goes my problem again.  I went home and went straight to my father’s office.  I knocked.

“Come in.”

I went inside and sat in one of the couches.  “If you called me just to know if I’m taking up Law, then my answer is yes.”

“Good,” was the only thing he said.  He didn’t even bother to look at me.  “You may go.”

I went straight to my room.  Does he even think of me as his son?  Does he even consider what I want?  I hate him.

“I told you, didn’t I?  You must not hate your father,” a familiar voice told me.  I turned to look at who spoke and to my surprise, I saw the girl from earlier.

“What are you doing here?  Are you a stalker?”  I asked dumbfounded.  She giggled and went near me.  She passed through my body.

“I probably am a stalker.  But who cares?  I’m a ghost,” she stated.  What?  A ghost?  This can’t be true.  I blinked several times but she didn’t vanish.

“Oh well, enough of the shocked portion.  I’ll go straight to the point.  Go directly to your father and tell him what you want to take up for college is Conservatory of Music.  Tell him that your passion is Music.”

“It’s not like it’s that easy talking with my father.  He doesn’t even care about how I feel,” I told her.  How did she know I like Music?

“Your father also loves Music.  If you explain to him how much you love Music, I know for sure he’ll accept your decision,” she said.  My father loves Music as well?  You’re kidding.  “Go on.  Talk to your father.  Nothing’s going to lose if you try right?” she smiled again.  I went to my father’s office.  Why am I even following her advice?

“Father,” I started.  But even before I could start with my sentence, he cut me off.

“I know.  You’re going to tell me you don’t like to take up Law right?  I’m sorry son.  I should’ve listened to you.  I forgot that I too once loved Music and that I too promised myself that I would not do the same as my father did.  I will let my children choose what they want for themselves.  You can take Conservatory of Music if that’s what you like,” my father said and smiled at me.  This is the first time I saw him smile.  It gave me joy.

“Thank you papa,” I said.

“She told you to talk to me right?” he asked.  Huh?  To whom is my father pertaining to?  He stood up and showed me a picture frame.  She’s the ghost girl.  “She’s your deceased aunt,” my father said.  “She’s the only person in our family who understood what I wanted.  Unfortunately, she died early.  You should thank her.”

The next day, I went back to the park in order to get some fresh air.  I’m lucky I was able to see my aunt here.  I took a deep breath and, “Ouch!” a can hit me.  A girl came rushing towards me.

“I’m sorry.  I’m really sorry!” she apologized.  I smiled at her.

“You shouldn’t throw things wherever you want.  If you have a problem, confront that person.  For sure, he’ll understand.”

“You’re right.  I should go talk to my friend.  Thanks,” she said and smiled.

“By the way,” I threw the can back to her. “Littering is bad.”

She smiled once again.  What a warm smile.

Mlle Maria ☆