37: The Number

The Number

“I will miss the future I might have had with you.”

He read and slowly folded the parchment which seemed to be yellowed by age. On a separate piece he inked ‘I miss you too’ under the pile of the same phrases.

He counted them. 37.

He laughed. “I miss you for 37 years.”

So again, just like what he’d been doing for the past years, he tucked himself on the table started composing a reply. His 37th letter. His 37th reply to a letter he had from her, 37 years ago.



The Precious Present

I guess, some of you might notice I’ve had posted this story a long time. But since that Christmas is approaching, which is the season of giving and sharing, allow me to provide you a great inspiration through this story which inspire by the time I went in a bookstore for a book and author hunt.


Read. Enjoy. Be inspired.

Once, there was an old man who lived alone in a little cabin. Everyday a little boy would always visit the old man to play and hear stories. One day, the child asked the old man. Continue reading

The Question

girl cry

Photo credit: http://weheartit.com

“Why?” She asked beyond sobs. Looking at her face, she’s as close as her 5 year-old self years ago asking her mother why would her father have to leave. But it’s not like that. That she wished it will just be like that. That everytime her father left, there’s always been an assurance of him coming back.

Yet this one is different.

Her body was shivering from an inner impulse of unnamed pain. Her arms, bloody and numb held tightly the un-breathing flesh of her beloved , already damped with her tears.

Her childhood friend, her brother, her first love. He was just sixteen and why?

She just kept herself crying. For every moment, she wished this was just like back when she was a child, that when someone leaves, he will comeback. Truth is, she had grown already, she knew all about the laws of death and life, all the mockeries of fate and all the hurts of reality. Still, death was out of her own comprehension.

What she just understood was that he left, he will never come back. What’s worst, she had never even heard him saying goodbye.

“Why?” she asked again.

Life Behind 2: Behind Doors

continued from Life Behind 1: Behind Music

If chances are just seeing falling stars at night, I think this was the moment where she had a tight sleep, unable to see some in the sky. For he was there, the man who intrigues her, her neighbor, the man he just known by the name Connor- right there in front of their house knocking, pushing the doorbell, patiently waiting.

Too bad for her, she’s always been sleeping like dead during weekends, (really did have a tight sleep) she never heard the noise of his existence right before her door. So by the tease of the moment again, she never had the great chance of meeting him, face to face.

Hours later, she’s in the kitchen with her cereals and the journal she left from the library.

“Who gave this?” She asked while examining at her journal.

“Oh. He said he’s been with you in the library yesterday and you left that journal.” Her mother smiled. “Good thing you had your address written inside, he was so surprised knowing about it.”

“What do you mean?” She ate the last spoon of her cereal looking perplexed by her mother’s words.

“He said he just stayed right there, just beside our house and he was so surprised knowing that we are neighbors.” She answered back. “I never really thought that Martha has a pretty looking nephew.”

“What? He’s the guy at the Thiel’s?”

“Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing!” She jumped from where she sat and ran toward her room.


Hi Amie! I just got your name from this journal. I guess you’re going to be as surprised as me too. This is just crazy knowing all of this and I can’t even believe myself how our paths just crossed again.

I believe you had my CD. Yeah, just maybe you will ask, I was the blind boy in the train. Surprise isn’t it? I was also surprised as hell yesterday as you told the story. It gave me the chills and all throughout your story, I was like a kid staring at you imagining what you look like back. I hope you didn’t notice it.

I guess fate has been too good to us then? Another thing, I just learned that we’re neighbors, which really made all this stuffs crazier.

As soon as you read this please don’t hesitate to knock at my door. You just knew me by the name Four and I haven’t even known yours. So maybe we could give ourselves another chance to meet. Where we could formally introduce ourselves. I hope it sounds cool to you.

Hoping to meet you again.

It’s me,

Four/ Connor.


P.S. Sorry for making some writings here in your journal.


She closed the journal and stared blankly at it keeping herself still for almost 10 seconds. After that silent moment, she ran outside her room and screamed out loud.




Life Behind 1: Behind Music

behind music

She had been doing it for almost a month. She can’t tell why, but she seemed so intrigued with the new guy next to their house. He just moved in about six weeks ago at the Thiel’s. Staying with his aunt Martha for college. Although he had spent some vacations in the neighborhood before, he had stayed aloof and silent so he hadn’t really created any friends and that nobody really knew him at all. Fact is that he had just been so invisible to everybody, every in and out of him in the house is unnoticed and that the only thing people knew about him is his name – Connor Stevenson.  The very reason why she didn’t bother to give a care of his existence.

But things had changed lately. He had been so bold for her, so intriguing which caused for her interest to just fire undying desire. And just two weeks after his arrival, she had started her secret stares.

All those days where she could take the chance, she settled herself hidden behind the curtain of the window of her room, overlooking the Thiel’s house. Yet, since then she had never ever caught a glimpse of his face. Always the back of his head or his body. Blame it to whammy or misfortune or fate, but she always end up viewing him with boxes, books, newspapers or anything that could possibly cover his face from her direction. Or in the time where she could have the chance for a look, that’s when the moment a phone rang, her mother called, a friend shifted in front of him, a dog just barked or his auntie called turning his head in directions. Yet she continued her adoration for him.


So there she was that Friday afternoon in the public library, struggling for multiple assignments and researches. It’s just a typical day for doing studies, a typical day where everything is silent, every head is down, every hand is writing – until a phone rang.

♫ When the night has come and the day is done. I’m always thinking of you. ♪ What a ring tone!

That time every head was into her. She seemed so dumb letting such a humiliating thing happened. She’s been like singing oh-no oh-no oh-no oh-no oh-no oh-no inside her head. Yet she’s still lucky enough, it isn’t Thursday, not the library-is-too-full day. There have been like 16 or 20 students scattered in different places.

“Cool ringtone!” Someone whispered.

She unfolded the book that’s been covering her face to take a glance of the voice’s owner. It was a guy sat opposite her. If books would speak for his self, probably he’s a medical student.

He winked at her, she looked at him sheepishly. Yeah a very cool shame tone. She chuckled in her thought and just smiled at him wryly.

“You’re great!” He smiled back.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean. The song is great.” He stood up and motioned to sat beside her. “It’s Forever and a Day by MLTR right? It had been my favorite since…since the day. I just can’t believe I could meet another girl listening to that song.”

“Yeah. It’s a great song. I can’t even believe it myself that I had loved it that much.” She beamed. She can’t tell why, but she seemed so buoyant with the guy in front of her. It would be creepy to talk like this to strangers and it seemed so absurd to just have an abrupt conversation. But it is music, she seemed to be not herself when it comes to music. This man also loves her song and that’s just enough against the odds. Then, she just can’t help to tell the story behind the song.

“Actually, everything is just an accident. How I met this song is magic.” She moved her head away from him, facing the blank page of her notebook. As if that there were scenes showing her what to tell. She continued.

“It was like eleven years ago.  I met this guy once in a train, he was heading to Le Bruke with his grandmother.” She paused, trying to dig the significant images of her memories, yet she failed. “I can’t really remember how he looked that time, but he had a different smile. A smile that could lead you to smiling, a feature I think he got from her grandma.

“He was the one who introduced me to this song. I remembered, he had the purest expression that time. It was silent, not much people inside and the only noise was the chug-chug of the train. Then he talked to his grandma and his grandma talked to me until we were already talking to each other. I learned that he is blind, such a cruel fate for a soul like him. He got it when he was 12, two years ago before we have met, it was retina weakness as they say. But that didn’t stop him to be cheerful.

“Between our great laughter, he then introduced to me this song. He was holding a music player, he turned it on and I listened to it. He said he really liked it. The harmony, the melody, the voice of the singer, the lyrics – everything seems to be magical to him. It changed his world that every time he listens to the song, he can’t see darkness anymore. What he sees are colorful shades of the world. The beautiful images he had gathered before his blindness.”

She chuckled in sweet tone. Then she continued. “His earphone seemed to be grating that time, so I gave mine to him. As a gift and as a sign of friendship, in return he gave me his CD.” She ended in wink of her left eye.

“So, are you still seeing him?” He asked winking back.

She smiled and fixed the books in front of her. “The thing is, I just known him by the name Four. And we never met each other again since that day. It is just the CD, the song and memory I got from him. That’s the reason why I’m listening to this song always. So that he will never be forgotten, until the time we meet again.”

“So you’re still hoping?”

“Yes. Until we meet again.” She stood up, grabbed her books and left the man without saying goodbye.

…to be continued.





Design of Death

“Not again,”

He was scared. It was always the same dream. No, more likely he considered it as a nightmare. It’s the dream that kept on haunting him giving him sleepless nights or if he sleeps, he’ll woke up drenched in heavy sweats. He almost lost grip of sanity because of the nightmares he had every night. He knew that it will happen. He could attest to that. That reality made him shiver and goosebumps started to sprout all over his trembling body.

It was almost 2AM when he woke up. He thought of things to stop the haunting. What he was thinking was quite stupid and he knew no one will believe him either even if it’s a battle between life and death. Continue reading


Living in someone else's shadowBeads of sweat streamed down from her temple as she struggled to jostle her way through a host of frenzied people clamoring and singing in chorus, all in high pitch decibels to a group of males performing on stage as though they had never seen such a spectacle before. Had it not been for the relentless coaxing of her friends to seeing ‘The Canons’ – as the band was named, she would never have, under any circumstance, drag herself into such gathering. But being the impressionable friend that she was, she yielded to their request. She raked the entire podium with her eyes for semblance of a man she so have been trying hard to evade, as she was told to. And as though luck was in total defiance with the wishes, her eyes collided with his. An awkward recognition broke through their faces but she instantly withdrew hers. It seems that coming here would’ve proved to be such a bad idea afterall. And still as if she hadn’t had the worst yet, her friends had somehow noticed the same thing.

“Hey Alice, don’t tell us you know Traze Canon, the vocalist. He keeps looking at you.” Continue reading