Untitled Piece

Here's the story telling piece I wrote. I'm not so sure if this will  win us the favor of the judges, but I would like an honest opinion from you guys. Thanks for reading, and spending  your time with this crappy or whatever post. Happy reading !

              In a small shaggy apartment, lives a family of two: a mother and a daughter. Day by day, they live with their heads held high in their low ceilinged residence. They wake as the first rays of light penetrate the handmade bed where they lay, cold but comfortable in each other’s warmth.  Meager meals of potatoes or corn fill their bellies after saying their morning prayers.  After that, the daughter, Shiela, would arduously do her daily routines before heading off to the nearest school.

            One foggy morning, Shiela was leaping from rock to rock to avoid the wet muddy ground. The downpour from the previous night created loud noisy steps as she made her way to school. Splash! Splash! She could feel the muddy water seeping into the hole on her shoes. Splash! Splash! Now the murky drops were getting her clothes dirty too. “Oh Lord, please let a familiar car pass by, so I can get a hitch ride to school,” She prayed.

            A few minutes later, their neighbor’s motorcycle passed by, and splashed her more of the brown substance. “Hop in Shiela. I’ll take you to school,” Shiela was disgruntled at the sudden kindness of her neighbor, and thanked the Lord for answering her prayers. It wasn’t a slick and chic car, but it made her trip easier. She accepted the neighbor’s offer and thanked him with a wide toothy grin. “Thank you for the ride, kuya!”

            In the middle of the road, the engine of the motorcycle came to a sputtering stop. Their neighbor shouted a string of curses, which made Shiela wince. Her mother never cursed even when the going gets tough. Shiela thanked the driver again before she started walking once more.

A few more steps brought her to a bakery owned by their rich neighbor. Although she had breakfast earlier, her stomach gave a quiet growl as the smell of freshly baked bread waft throughout the area. “Hmmmm. Lord I hope I can eat delicious bread from that bakery,” she prayed silently as she inhaled the pleasant smell. Suddenly, their middle aged neighbor bumped her from behind which caused her to topple over.

“I’m so sorry Shiela. Here, take this biscuits as a sign of my apology,” the middle-aged man handed her the biscuits. Shiela was bruised, but she silently thanked the Lord for their neighbor’s sweet pity. It wasn’t the bread she hoped for, but it can cover the gnawing hunger she felt. She ate the biscuits and thanked him with a healthy smile. “Thank you for the biscuits manong!”

They ate while walking for a while, when another man rushed past them and bumped their middle-aged neighbor on his shoulder blades. Their neighbor shoved the man, and a brawl ensued after their tempers ran out. Shiela’s mother never spanked her even if she sometimes crossed the lines. Shiela hurriedly backed away from the slowly gathering crowd, and made her way to school alone.

A few more blocks, and she would finally reach the school gates, when her hand stitched bag gave way and spilled the contents of her bag- tattered books, broken pencils and scratch papers- on the ground. “Oh Lord! Please help me get through this day,” she prayed silently, while she busily picked her things. Her eyes suddenly blurred with tears from all the misfortune she encountered even before the day fully started.

A hand tapped her shoulders as she stood up. It was their old neighbor this time, holding a sturdy bag in one hand, and a cane on the other hand. Shiela looked up as their old neighbor placed the bag in her hands. “I’m supposed to give that to my daughter, but she already owns a collection of bags. This would help your cause more,” the old man smiled a sad smile. Shiela, feeling ashamed of her poverty, silently received the bag with nothing but a sniff. Her words of thank you were stuck on her throat. Out of sheer happiness, she hugged the old man and helped him cross the street.

“Thank you lolo. I will never lose this bag, and I will take care of it as much as I can,” she muttered the words, when she finally calmed down. “It is nothing child. Just pray to the Lord, keep your faith and dreams close to your heart, and never give up on your education. That’s the only treasure that will never be taken from you,” the old man patted her head lightly as they made their way through the busy streets.

Suppression

            

             The world could go on better off without this word: Suppression. The world seems to deal with this issue since forever. People have to contend with the meager lifestyle that suppression offers them. It’s such a pitiful state to see so much innovation, and yet, the world still remains with a caveman’s mentality: their baser and wilder instinct still provokes them to win the race in ways that would step on other people’s dignity. Sad? Disgusting? Unbelievable? Yes, but simply open your eyes to reality, and you will see the real world.

Everyone has a thing or two to say to someone. At some point in a relationship, one party would snap. That’s where suppression begins- with a little burst of emotion. Emotion will fuel the negativity of a person, and would eventually lead to suppression. Hidden feelings, unheard voices, unacknowledged efforts, unchanged habits-all of these contribute to the growing suppression within society. For those who’ve never known peace all their lives- like the people in warring countries or average children unnoticed by society- suppression becomes the trigger and the clutch that they hold on to for survival. They live their daily doctrines with the thought of suppression hanging over their heads. Although, one may not think of being suppressed consciously, one’s actions and expressions are still obviously under the confines of suppression.

Despite a person’s attempts to enjoy life, the threat of being kicked to the dirt lingers like a pungent smell. Young children could never voice their longing for attention, teens could never voice their need for acknowledgement, adults could never voice their cry for change. All of these hidden underneath layers of routines, work, parties and all other things that a person does to erase the word suppression written on their skins. But it’s still there. When alone and thinking, one would realize the unbecoming of their dreams, all because of suppressed emotions and dignity.

We couldn’t help everybody else, but we could start with a simple, happy conversation. Words that could encourage and heal instead of probing ones that could instigate anxiety are enough to ease the restrains. Accepting and understanding one another without giving in to emotional barriers can gradually move mountains. Don’t be afraid to make friends, and don’t ever suppress a smile.

My next post will be a storytelling piece I am writing for a competition. I hope it will be good enough to win our college an award. God Bless us all.

04- A habit that you wish you didn't have

                  

                     Life is never without habits. People change and learn to move with the resiliency that innovation and change brings. Some people say that one does not change, but the slightest detail in your lifestyle, the slightest blemish on your face, the slightest shift in your attitude is a sign of change. Mortality in itself changes a person entirely. The only constant thing in this world is change itself.

                My life is full of ups and downs. Throughout the years that passed by, I have formed and outgrown from one habit to the next. Some habits easily pass by, while some stay like a thorn on my side. I’m not saying that most of my habits are bad. I could call them distracting, but it was never bad. One old habit that I could never seem to get off is my fetish for handkerchiefs and hand towels. I was not even conscious of the first time I ever had this addiction. My mother said that during my infant years, I could never sleep well without a hand towel nearby. Sooner, they noticed that I always had a hand towel n my grip, and got used to squishing it. Ever since, I never slept or left the house without a hand towel or handkerchief in my hands. Admittedly, I don’t bring handkerchiefs often anymore (in fear of losing them, or leaving them anywhere), but I still hang on to my hand towels at home.

                This cute and childish habit seems to stay forever in me, but I never really wish for it to leave just yet. I have other habits that I really want to get rid of. One certain habit is my negative consistency. I easily learn things. I’m not really a fast learner, but I easily get used to things. The bad perk that came along with it, is my tendency to get consistent, once I reach a certain point, and just stay stagnant. I won’t get better, or worse about it, but consistent. I don’t want this habit to go on. I want to discover all doors of possibilities and chances.

                Life is never getting easier. It’s either you fly to the top of the mountain, or you fall to a steep decline. It’s your choice. Killing a habit or becoming confident is a choice, not an option. You have to pick the knife to start cracking that shell, and not wait for the light to simply penetrate through the small holes.