BADILLO, AUDREY LIVETTE, V.

February 3, 2021
CREATIVE WRITING

(2) CONNECTING IMAGES

There is a distinct place in Sitio Sabang where time suddenly stops, without a warning nor a hushed
whisper. The winds avoid the charter of that place, afraid to give up their gullible freedom. Towering
mountains, however, are glad to hide whatever mystery or mysticism the place holds. But the waters of
the river, like the wind, would disagree.

You see, in this distinct place, lies a humble bungalow made entirely of bamboo. Ornamented with wild
flowers of different colors, the façade shelters the dark secrets of the bungalow’s inside, including an
elderly woman whose eyes are always looking in the distant past.

People of Sitio Sabang, unwilling to settle with not knowing, made up truths about the place and the old
woman. Hearsays reaching even people outside, warning them of the things they could find.

Ay dios mio! Do not go at the top of that mountain, lest the witch of Sabang will make rinds of your bones!
Mothers would often say to keep their naughty children at bay.

You know, it was said, that if a person could pick one flower from the witch’s garden, that person is granted a
wish. Sadly, it’s not that simple. Many who tried, ended up being lost for three days, then they would turn up
disheveled and insane! Teenagers would narrate under the shimmer of the moonlight.

If only they’d tried, then they would probably have seen her crying, shouting mournfully every time it
rained.

---

The war had stopped and all is gay. Everyone was drunk with merriment and celebration. Outside Don
Baste’s mansion, the clinks of wine glasses were heard along with the joyous (and flustered) shouts of “To
freedom!”

Silently observing the gaiety from the second-floor terrace, is Don Baste’s only son and heir to his fortune,
Sebastian Vallano III. With pursed lips, striking fierce brown eyes, and a prominent high nose, he is often
mistaken to be a Hapinoy – a half Japanese, half Pinoy. He didn’t dare correct them, though. He liked their
wrong assumption. It made him feel significantly different. The opposite of the different he feels daily.

Breathing anxiously, Sebastian went inside his bedroom and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was
standing upright like a gentleman should. Dashing in his steam-pressed black tuxedo, like a gentleman
should. The man in the mirror is nothing like Sebastian. This is not me. He bitterly thought.

After a moment, Sebastian left his bedroom and discreetly slid into their mansion’s back kitchen. Mixed
feelings of excitement and fear enveloped his every stride. Tonight, he shall meet his lover and like all the
other nights before, dance away his sorrows and worries.

---

My stomach is churning like a train’s engine. No, it is not out of hunger. It is because of the sheer nervous
energy I have tonight. Because tonight shall be the night that I shall confess my overwhelming love to
Sebastian. I will ask him to marry me. Never mind our Sitio’s close-minded people. I shall ask him to elope
with me so that we could finally be happy! I sincerely hope he accepts my proposal.

Sebastian Vallano III, I cherish you! I treasure you! Let us fight for our love!
BADILLO, AUDREY LIVETTE, V. February 3, 2021
CREATIVE WRITING
Celestine closed the tattered, fading notebook, and put it down on the wooden table. This is one of the
times when she would get the diary, flipped it open at the bloodied page and relive the memory. In the
corner of her eyes, she saw a woman staring at the mirror, with silent tears streaking down her chin.
Celestine began to sobbed uncontrollably, clutching her face. Guilt and regret swooping at her again, after
all those years.

---

Don Baste, furious at the blaspheming woman’s information, threw the dinner table upside down,
shattering the drunken smiles of his guests.

“How dare you, woman! You come in my mansion wearing shabby poor people clothes, making my guests
uncomfortable of your appearance, now you dare talk lies of my son!? Leave! Leave lest I whip you out of
here!” he yelled, rotund belly trying to squirt out of his shirt.

“But Don Baste, I have proof! Please, believe me!” the woman cried. But Don Baste would not hear from
it anymore. He signaled the guards to take the woman away. The woman was still shouting, “I have
proof”. She revealed something in her pocket and dropped it while the guards brusquely whisked her
away from the mansion’s sophisticated party.

Don Baste noticed it. When he opened it, his face became bloodred that his nostrils seem to blow smoke.
Without saying proper goodbye to his dumbfounded guests, he exited from the front garden and walked
briskly towards his large office. He instructed the maids to contact Sergio and his goons. God, please make
the woman a liar! He angrily prayed.

---

Deep into the sitio’s hill, stood the sturdy flowering santol tree a yard away from the deep, green river. At
night, especially when the moon is big and emits a pale moonlight, the place would glimmer just enough to
make an alluring illusion.

The secret place looked exactly like the night Sebastian met his lover. But something is out of place. He
couldn’t pinpoint it. Shrugging the negative thought, he exhaled, and closed his eyes, feeling the gentle
rhythm of the night. He started to sway his hips as if spellbound, drawing the melodious memory of his
lover strumming the guitar, singing kundiman.

Nasaan ka, Irog,

At dagling naparam ang iyong pag-ibig?

‘Di baga sumpa mo, ako’y mamahalin?

Iyong itatangi, iyong itatangi

Magpa-hanggang libing,

Subalit nasaan ang gayong pagtingin.

(Where are you, Love?

Where are you, Love, that your

Affections have suddenly died?

BADILLO, AUDREY LIVETTE, V. February 3, 2021
CREATIVE WRITING
Did you not swear that I will be loved?

You pledged, you promised, that you would until your grave you meet

But where has your love for me gone?)

Sebastian suddenly opened his eyes, alerted by the throng of footsteps coming towards him. His heart
began to beat rapidly, inexplainable fear embracing him. The shadowed figures stepped into the light,
becoming human, becoming Don Baste along with Sergio and his three macho friends.

“That loathsome woman was right, after all. How could you, my son?” Don Baste started, calm demeanor
deceiving the monster underneath.

“What did you do to him?” Sebastian asked, choking down his imminent sorrow.

“Do not look for that shameless hardinero. It is alright, son. He will not bother you anymore. He will not
confuse you anymore, singing songs of blasphemous and unrighteous acts. I have protected you, my son.
My only son.” Don Baste embraced his son, crying mournfully but grinning like a lunatic.

Sebastian’s eyes caught a broken guitar floating in the river. He knows that guitar from the heart.
Memorized its every string, felt its glossy house, danced to every bit of its music. Sebastian closed his eyes,
trying to remember his lover’s face. He couldn’t conceive it.

Trying to escape, Sebastian pushed his father and ran mindlessly down the hill, the cold patters of rain
wanting to cry with him.

---

Seventy years had passed since the night Sebastian lost his forbidden love. People are more accepting of
different kinds of love, then. But he chose to seclude himself, still burdened by the memories—both good
and bad.

He hears the rumors about him. He didn’t dare correct them. He liked being a woman. That at least, made
Sebastian, for a minute, happy.

Reference:

Nasaan Ka, Irog by Nicanor Belarde, translated by Katrina Navarro (2013)

BADILLO, AUDREY LIVETTE, V. February 3, 2021
CREATIVE WRITING
(3) IMAGINING

Song: “The Next Right Thing” by Kristen Bell from Frozen 2

1) Darkness
2) Small light from a distant
3) Figure kneeling down out of sorrow
4) Figure looking around
5) Figure walking towards the light
6) Figure running towards the light
7) Figure stumbling, trying to reach out the light
8) Figure crying