Note: I've been practicing on writing a feature article because I will compete this upcoming Friday on the said category. So, here's one of my drafts. Hope you enjoy reading!
-
I heard the door open and it was followed by footsteps obviously from a 2-inch pumps.
It was an everyday scenario. Me, making an entrance into a quadrilateral space, roaming my eyes into the whole place, watching crumpled papers fly.
Wearing my backpack on both of my shoulders is something that I'm used to until I realize one day, I'm missing something good.
There were no footsteps anymore, so it's a signal that she has stopped walking. I raised my head and I saw the fear in everyone's eyes as she randomly picked an index card out of the box. I was very confident my name would not be called but then in her, you should expect even the most impossible.
"Salazar"
She called my name. Startled, I shut my eyes and breathed for a second, and then finally stood up. I can see the terror in her eyes, but then it was accompanied by sadness and dissapointment as she saw me scratching my head. She told us to read and understand the poem but what I did last night is watch my favorite TV show.
She was angry. To the point that she grabbed the whiteboard eraser and threw it at me with curses and dissapointed words. I can see her shaking hands because of anger, but then I see her eyes with longing and sadness.
That's when I knew, she was faking everything.
I cursed her out to death because my classmates are mocking me to something that I would never understand. She was the root of all my problems.
She is the reason why I can't watch my favorite TV Show. She is at fault when I got sick because I didn't have a complete sleep. She is the reason why I'm always busy because of too much assignments so I can't go to family events.
But then I realized, she is also the reason why I'm wearing this corporate attire and she's behind the story why I can be called as a professional.
Her curses and dissapointed words accompanied me to the top. Her terror and anger towards me gave me an inspiration to win and her longing and sad eyes offered me the motivation to survive this jungle.
And, I did.
I hurriedly went to my car after I hung up the saddest phone call I've ever had. Worse than my missed TV Shows, than my aching head when I'm sick, and family events that I didn't attend.
I entered the room and waited for her footsteps. There were none, actually.
Instead, I saw her wrinkled saggy skin, her half body coated with white cloth, and her hand holding a hundred-peso paper.
I roamed around the area but I didn't see flying crumpled papers. There were none too.
And what I saw are her children with their handkerchiefs on, fragrant flower stands, and paper plates with finger foods.
I touched the white box she's in and cried my heart out.
She's dissapointed when we don't take education seriously because she wants us to be successful someday. She's dissapointed when i watch my favorite TV show instead of understanding the poem.
I'm thankful.
Not because I succeeded, but because I saw her lying at the coffin, with her smiling pink lips and closed eyes.
That's when I know. She's contented on how far we went. She's proud that she did not teach kindness to failure- but with terror to success.
randomly
