Chapter one - - The memories.

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15 years after. . .

Cassandra was wearing a black long sleeves and a black jeans. She didn't meant to look gothic but the color was just appropriate for her mood today,  she feel so gloomy and sad like her world for a second turns black and white.

Sighing, she stepped inside the house, it was still the same when they left it almost eight years ago except that its paint already faded and no one is already living in it. The house look sad and dull, but the memories were imprinted in every corner, she smile. Its been a long time, but it feels like home. Feels like she've never left, they've never left.

Her eyes went teary for a moment and she release a laugh. She must be crazy but she never care. Years of pain and she never easily cry. Not even in her parents funeral but now that she's alone and empty, crying seems the only way out.

* *
"kawawang mga bata, ang aga-agang naulila--(poor child. .they were too young to be orphaned)".

"Kasasayang ng mga magulang nila ---(Its a pity to have lost their parents)"

"kapait naman ng sinapit nila. .(what happened was really tragic. .)"

The rumors and whispers in their parents and brother's wake was all over the house. Cassandra can hear them no matter how low their voices are and how sympathic their comments be. Its life, she needs to accept it. Her parents are gone and her younger brother Eli too were gone for good. She can never take them back no matter what. Besides their neighbors were right. They were orphaned now. They were in a pitiful situation but she needed to live. A situation she needed to strive not just for herself but for Emme too.

She took every word in every turn listening but not minding, then she took the tray deposited in their mini kitchen and distributed some snacks for the mourners.

Well, she thought, their neighbor has been of good help though. They have held the traditional wakes and pa-syam for their parents and brother. They even promised to conduct the kwarenta diaz (Forty days) too so she guess it wasn't really that bad even if they talk sympathy behind their back looking at them with pitiful eyes which make her stomach spin for a while but who cares? Their parents and brother need prayers and a proper/traditional Filipino mournings so she think it might just be worth it. Worth all the stares and words, worth their gossips. She shrugs, it wont hurt her, there just words after all.

But it did, no matter how she deny it. It did matter, it did hurts like it was some constant reminder that they were alone now and that their orphaned. She shrug again then look at her sister's direction. She matters, when everything is not. She does. Her parents are dead but she is alive. She's worth surviving for isn't she?

***

She roam the sala, look at it bitterly and took a half smile. It was little and dusty and old but its been theirs for so long. She reach for the divider and look at its emptiness. Its been full of photos and stuff before, now all it has was cobwebs and some old magazines and newspaper piled in.

She blew the dust off and pick the newspaper, it was quiet old but the newspaper had survived time. The paper portrayed a huge picture, the tragedy made it to the front page as it resulted to huge casualties. The photo shows whack down buss down cliff. It has a bold clippings underneath that says 'Bus accidents killed nearly thirty people, and injured ten and so on.'

She slowly drop it and turn to held again another one, this time the front page captures the funeral. A silent black and gray with masses of people in solemn faces wearing their black attire for the prayer mass for those who died in the accident. The picture was sad but it didn't capture the whole ache in that scenario.

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