There are only fifteen days before Ye Joon Ji leaves the Philippines. Alison de Franco, Ye Joon's best friend knows they need to seize all those days left for them-- at the same time, she needs to learn how to let him go.
But then, as college is ar...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
13TH OF MAY
THE cold air kisses my skin as I walk on my way to our home . . . that doesn't really feel like home.
The lamp post dims the empty streets. No stars. No moon. It makes me feel lonely.
This is what I feel at home.
Nanay is the only one who acts as that dim street light in that empty lifeless corners I call home.
I breathe deeply as I open the gate of our house. I went to my aunt earlier to ask if I could stay in their house when the sem starts. Since the university is really far from here, I need to ride two jeepneys and tricycle before I reach the university. Theirs is nearer.
"Nay? I'm home," I call and enter the living room.
I haven't even reached the dining area but I already hear the shouts from there. It's the voice of my mother and father, going on with their endless arguments again.
Immediately, I drop my bag on the sofa.
"That's the problem with you, Joyce! You let her do whatever she wants!" Tatay yells.
I stride to the kitchen and see them towering with each other, stiff and with wide eyes. Their voices sending thunderous thugs in my chest.
I am facing my mom's back so they probably can't see me, but even from here I notice how her shoulder rise up and down like she's breathing heavily.
"So, what? why would I stop my child doing what she wants?" Nanay replies using a sharp voice.
I want to stop them but I feel like I am frozen in my spot, hearing them exchanging rants about me again. When will they get tired?
Is it really the time that I give up. . . my dream? If not because of it, this mess won't be this big.
"You let her do everything she wants no matter how shallow her dream is!"
"Allison's dream isn't as shallow as your mind!"
But then, am I that coward to give up something I want to do when I know there is at least one person who is willing to fight it for me. I gulp seeing and hearing how my mother does this for me.
What is my right to give up when all this time Nanay believe in me?
She believes I can do it.
She believes my dream isn't shallow.
"Son of a bitch! I want her to live a life with wealth and power! Not as a cheap painter on the street waiting for alms!" his voice is dreading and too poisonous for my system.
Is that how low he can think of art, of painters who save me with their colorful palettes when I've lost the will to dream?
Nanay points her shaking hands to my father, her teeth gritting as she spits words firmly, "Don't you ever ruin her dream for your own. You never did anything—"
