I guess that’s just how it is between us as Valentine’s came and went.

Ready were my flowers in one hand, the sweets wrapped in a handsome gold,

your favorite brand of cut-out stars in the style of our names, the sticky notes and pictures of our blissful days, all called for at the back of my car’s trunk.

Sweating profusely, my hands were, as I held the roses, about to knock on your door.

You see, I never got to tell you; didn’t want to go all cliché, even. But you loved this kind of thing anyway, so there I was, hand raised, heart pounding.

I knocked. Once. Twice.

There were scuffles and a thud from the other side of the door - were you alright?
Were your parents hurting you again?

Perhaps I came at the wrong hour, or maybe I should have just broken the door down and saved you from whatever was happening.

I heard shouting, my engine revving, I ran to turn it off and threw the flowers at the back.

I was on the front porch when the door suddenly opened and a man walked out stoutly and smirked at me, pushing me aside.

I saw you inside, he left the door open,

In tears again, on a beautiful night like this.

I asked you to change, to come with me.

So you did.

I carried you to my car and we drove off into the night.

Words not needed, just silence as I showed you the place I promised nights ago.

I had a speech ready, but all I could do was take you in my arms and whisper, “You’re beautiful. I love you”, like the fool I am.

Source: http://heres-to-our-feelings.tumblr.com/post/68434024436

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This entry for Fiction is written by DarkSilence.

"Then I see the distant night sky and how it is embellished with stars and I see you; your beauty, your calm and how you never became mine."

The night skies I look up during desolate moments and I see everything - in the back of my mind, at least. While the orange street lamp on the corner of the block blinds my eyes, I relish the moments when I see those three stars lining up like ants. Or how these clustered shining things resembled the pimple scars I found on your cheeks. Or how the wispy clouds looked like cotton under the plasters of your scars. In those dark moments, I see you. I felt safe.

We were in that dark cinema, holding each other’s hands to gain a little warmth in that cold place. I remember the scene when the waters of Venice reflected its night sky. I saw your constellation of pimples and know that it was you I am with. I could feel you with me on that same gondola that rippled the stars. I will not drown. Because even if I will, the dark reflective liquid that I was traveling on will catch me. It will cradle me until I float ashore.

Handing your right earphone piece, you grabbed me and led me towards a dark room. “You will hear it better in here!” you exclaimed as I allow myself to float in your currents of excitement. We made the floor warm, the air damp and the sound raspy. Your panting made its way to my auditory processes which made me not want to put on the right piece. Because if I do, I’d miss the chance of engulfing all of your sounds from one ear in exchange of this song about falling stars. “You sure do sweat quickly,” you say. A hanky with yellow tulip prints was dabbed in my forehead and got rid of my sweat.

Bass lines from a band concert we attended one spring break are still audible to this day. My mind plays a melody of love unrequited while looking back at you wincing in pain because of a wound you got from some douchebag who can’t take care of you. The cotton turned brown under the plaster as you tried to get yourself drunk, waving your hurting wrists up. I look at you and your eyeliner was the night sky, your tears the stars. I didn’t notice that I was already falling because of the person accidentally shoving me to you. And you caught me. You smiled and said, “What would you do without me?”

I stand on a Hospital rooftop, staring at the night sky. I see the stars better now as more of the nearby lights grew faint. The Emergency Room you lay in is bright; it pains me to be there. You rest in pristine white sheets, your pimple marks almost concealed; I can’t see your dark hazel eyes. I know that if I stay, I won’t see the stars anymore. So I went away from the light and back in the dim comforts of the dark, desolated rooftop.

My soul keeps coming back to those moments - those dark moments engraved in my head. I look up at the heavens and feel myself fall to the ground where you now lay. Then I see the distant night sky and how it is embellished with stars and I see you; your beauty, your calm and how you never became mine. No camera can capture your existence as perfectly as my eyes can just like how it can’t make me hold the night. And I close my eyes. I sleep easy in a dark, starry night.

END

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This entry for Fiction is written by Tara Angela Prieto.

Magduwa-duwa pa lamang si Taz sa gamayng bola dihang miabot siya sa among panimalay. Karon nga dili na siya makighamag sa bola, dili na usab siya magpaligo. Mangawras ug mamaak na. Dili sama sa dihang gamay pa lamang siyang iring nga dili pa hait ang mga kuko.

Sa pag-abot niya sa among pamilya, giapil na siya namo sa among banay uban sa among irong si Neo nga pirme niyang ilogan sa sobrang sud-an matag human namog kaon. Hinungdan nganong sa kosina gayod mokaon si Taz ug sa gawas na lamang si Neo. Kawrason niya kini kon makit-an. Maluoy god mi sa iro nga moatras na lamang papalayo.

Sukad nga miabot siya sa among balay, wala nay ilagang maglaag-laag sa kosina matag gabii. Wala nay gising mga sinina sa aparador nga mautingkayan sauna ni Mama. Wala na usay mga tuko nga mangiti kada tan-aw namog telebisyon matag gabii. 

Usa ka higayon niana, nakit-an namong migawas si Taz gikan sa kosina nga galuya ang mga mata ug gatulo ang laway. Samaran ang tambok niyang lawas. Pinaakan ang iyang tuong paa. Pula ang mitina sa iyang puting balahibo.

Gisulod dayon namo ni Mama ang kosina ug nakit-an ang dakong kobra nga nagligid sa sawog; sama ni Taz nga samaran ug luya. Tungod sa kalisang ni Mama, midali-dali siyag kuha sa pinuti. Ug nabuwag ang ulo ug lawas sa dakong bitin nga nagkisis-kisi nga naligo sa iyang kaugalingong dugo.

Paghuman niadtong masulob-ong adlaw, daw mibalik ang panahon. May kinitkitan na usahay ang mga sinina sa aparador. Mibalik na ang mga tuko sa pagpangiti kanamo samtang magtan-aw mig telebisyon. Mitambok nag balik si Neo ug sa kosina na siya magkan-anan.

Sama sa una dihang wala pa maapil sa among banay si Taz.

KATAPOSAN

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This Cebuano fiction is written by Romeo Nicolas Bonsocan.