II
polaroids
Magaspang ang nakausbong na pilat sa aking noo. Tinunton iyon ng aking daliri habang pinagmamasdan ko ang repleksyon sa salamin.
For years, I hid this scar with a bangs. Palagi ko itong itinatago hindi dahil sa nahihiya akong makita ito ng iba, kundi dahil ako mismo ang natatakot na makita ito.
It was a constant reminder that I was once on the brink of death. A constant proof of a nightmare that I have never really escaped and perhaps, would live on with me forever.
A sudden burst of fear and bitterness resurrected from the pit of my stomach. Before my long jet black hair was skin so pale, it looked blood-drained. My eyes looked so stoic and fierce that I often gave off a scary impression. My face heart-shaped and my cheekbones, high. I looked so much like my grandmother.
Isang beses ko pang pinasadahan ng tingin ang sarili. I look fine. Paulit ulit kong kinukumbinsi ang sarili kong maayos ang hitsura ko. Hindi kabawasan ang pilat. Palihim akong humiling na sana ay matanggap sa susunod na model casting na dadaluhan.
As much as I love to paint, I love modeling too. But I was never vocal or too bold to pursue it because my mom wouldn't want it.
A heavy sigh escaped my lips. Inilugay kong muli ang bangs bago bumaba para mag-almusal.
"Ano'ng plano mo ngayong araw? Do you have somewhere particular you want to visit? Sabihin mo nang hindi ka biglang nawawala rito't nag-aalala kami." Bungad sa akin ni mama.
"Mag-jojogging lang po ako. I'll return for breakfast later."
Hindi ko na hinintay na makasagot si mama. Wearing my racerback and dolphin shorts, I started taking laps in the garden. But soon, the mansion grew boring. Sa likod na gate ako dumaan upang hindi na kwestyunin ng mga guwardiya.
Tuwang tuwa ako nang humaplos sa aking pisngi ang mabining hangin mula sa malawak na taniman. I ran past some of the workers who craned their necks for me. Ngumiti ako't kumaway sa mga ito.
"Iyan iyong apo ni Donya Luisiana, hindi ba? Iyong nanirahan sa States?"
"Oo. Balita ko'y kahapon lang muling umuwi."
I heard a bit of their gossip but it didn't really bother me.
Something else bothers me. I wonder where that guy from yesterday lives? I can't help but be curious. Masiyadong bitin ang pag-uusap namin kahapon. I feel like he knows more about me only if we weren't interrupted. Malayo layo pa ang tinakbo ko, nagbabaka-sakali na makita siya kung saan.
When I failed to do so, I ran my way back to the mansion. Naligo ako't nagpahinga bago naghanda ng almusal para sa sarili.
I spent the day working out, doing a bit of yoga and practicing my walk.
"Why are you doing all these, Zhalia? Pinapagod mo ang sarili mo. I have friends in Storm, if you want, I could easily book you with them. In no time, you'll be in New York fashion week." Auntie Camila made a face when she saw me in my room, walking in front a huge mirror.
I am well aware of that. Sa kanilang tatlo, Auntie Camila is more fond of fashion and grandeur. She's a fashion icon. She's a shareholder in a fashion-design company, and she's friends with a lot of designers. Dahil roon ay lagi itong imbitado sa mga fashion week. Milan, Paris to New York FW, she jumps from one to another because of her love of couture.
"Tita, ayos lang. I can work my way to that."
Mas lalo itong hindi makapaniwala sa sagot ko. She frowned in disbelief as if I am the dumbest person in earth.
BINABASA MO ANG
NOSTALGIA (La Mémoire #1)
RomanceBorn to a prominent and wealthy family, Zhalia Ferriol's life could be compared to a princess's but more complex. There was an accident. She was sure she remembered everything, or so she thought. Dreams. Polaroids. An old script. Sunflowers. A hangi...