Epilogue

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Sirens wail as the thunder throbs its might in this gloomy and story night. All by-standers seem dumbfounded by the sight at hand. Kids crying relentlessly, people calling for help nervously, cars buzzing their horns noisily, and a girl weeping woefully. Bodies scattered, glasses shattered, and blood flooded the dry, cold, dead street. People from all walks of life gather around at this horrific sight and all they can do is to stand in awe, put their hands on their mouths, and pity the havoc at hand.

Yet there is something unusual about the scene. About everything. I can’t seem to grasp the fact that I, too, was a by-stander, surveying this horrific scene that I usually only see in movies. But this is real. It is happening in front of my very eyes. This bloody nightmare is unfolding its horror in me. The horror isn’t something that bothers me, though, there is something else. Something eerie and creepy.

And as I make my way through this clutter of a mess, I, too, was dumb-founded by what I saw. Angelene, the girl of my dreams, the woman I said I’d marry, my childhood love, my everything. My life. She is the beautiful monster I captured. Tall and white, crowned with her long and silky black hair, eyes of light brown that resemble the hills of Bohol, they simply illuminate when she smiles, it’s not just her pearly white teeth that glitter her eyes also smile, simply every man’s dream. I am lucky to have her and she always say that she is lucky to have me as well. Boy, I really am the luckiest guy on earth for I can call her, “MINE”. She is a girl for keeps and that is what I’ll surely do. I am actually planning to ask her to marry me. That’ll be great! I’d set up a perfectly planned engagement party. Where all of our families and friends would gather in one elegantly decorated hall. A hall filled with her favorite pink roses, an orchestra to play our favorite songs, from Sarah Geronimo’s Forever’s Not Enough to the likes of Pangako by Regine Velasquez and of course the song Marry Your Daughter, that’ll be amazing! There will be sparkling champagne, scrumptious meals, and of course the best ring to suit her hand. I can imagine how’d lovely that will be for my Angelene. I will sing with the orchestra and by the end of my song I will pop the dreaded question.

“Angelene San Antonio, my love, the sun in my universe, my Angelina Jolie, my better half, my everything. Please, would you grant me the chance to be your husband for the rest of your life. Will you marry me?”

I’d see her face lit up and a little blushed. Screams and cheers would envelope the place and they would anxiously wait for her sweet response. Of course I’d be one hell of a nervous man but I will definitely assume that she’ll say the three letter word I am longing to hear, the much awaited….

“Wake up, please wake up! Don’t do this to me now, don’t do this to me!”

I was pulled out of my reverie and was brought back to reality. The reality that is so horrific I can’t even bare the sight of everything. But I am here. Curious. Confused. So I walked closely to check who Angelene is holding in her arms. All eyes are on her as she wells her eyes with tears that don’t seem to appear due to the heavy pouring of the rain. I can't seem to take the fact that she is mournfully sobbing as if she is competing with the roaring sound of the rain.

I inched closer to her and noticed that she was holding a man. Probably in his mid-twenties. I can’t recognize the man due to the blood that covers the totality of his identity but it clearly show that this man is dear to her heart. The question is, who is he? I never really met someone dear to her heart besides her father, Sir Marco San Antonio, a great man. He has raised Angelene, together with Tita Rosa, in such a fine way that no bad thing is to be said about her; Cj, her brother, who happens to be a real pain in the butt. He is now a junior in his school but still acts as if he is the family’s baby. I like the kid though, he reminds me of my brother, Lance, the ever naughty brother of mine. They are of the same age and are classmates. Fate really; and Gregg her best friend but he left for London two days ago. So who is this man?

As I inched further, I recognized that he was wearing a watch. A watch that looked so familiar. A black watch with silver metal covering and lining and with black strap. Yes! It is my watch, the one given by Cj on my birthday. Funny. Alarming. Probably he just has the same watch. There could be millions of this watch. So I finally took a big step to fully check who the man is. Black shoes and socks, gray pants, white polo shirt, and a purple tie. They looked familiar, I know I’ve seen them all before, probably even wore them. As I graced my outfit, I recognized that they were the same as mine. The only thing different is that mine was clean and his was bloody.

Could it be that this man is--- No it can’t be. It is impossible. I need to relax. “Stephen, inhale, exhale.” I need to wake up, this is just a nightmare of sorts. A scary one for that matter. This man can’t be…. I inched closer and this time I dropped on my knees to clearly see who he is. The man is….ME!

“Stephen, please wake up! Don’t do this to me!” Angelene exclaimed in deep sobs.

Is the man really me? Am I? No! It can’t be. Angelene’s face was filled with terror, pain, and exhaust. She looks like she’d seen hell. Probably because she is holding me…NO! The man isn’t me. I’m here, looking straight at this bloody scene I really can’t understand. Then a man in white took the lifeless body out of Angelene’s arms.

“Ma’am, give him to me, we need to check for signs that he is still alive. You too need some checking,” she said in a tone as if relaxing and calming Angelene all at the same time.

“Please, doctor, please save my boyfriend! I need him!”

Wait. Did I hear her right? Her boyfriend? I am her boyfriend and yet she has this man as her boyfriend. I felt betrayed at that very moment. How could she do this to me? After all we’ve been through. But I know how loyal she is to me so this is not possible. But I know that everyone has a dark side. Is this hers? I hope not. Wait. Why I am thinking ill of my love, my life, my everything. She won’t do these things I am picturing in my mind. She simple won’t. I am sure of that. What I am not sure though was her last words.

“Please, doctor, please save my boyfriend! I need him!”

Her boyfriend? Me? Stephen Andrew Diego? This really is out of my league. I am seeing all these nonsense and they are threatening my sanity or are these all true? No. Everything is a mess. This isn’t real because if it is, that means, I’m….DEAD!

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