Chapter 3: After The Twenty-Minute Melancholic Disaster

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A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Hyacinth Ortile Nieva who blooms no matter how intense or crazy life can be.

This part of the story happened after the disaster. The next part of chapter 3 will tell about that.

The medicine part comes from Marlex Tuson.

Please vote after reading.

CLEARLY, YOU CAN READ THAT.        :)

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CHAPTER 3: AFTER THE TWENTY-MINUTE MELANCHOLIC DISASTER

-HYACINTH-

I’m glad I’m at home. Although this isn’t my true home, I’m talking not about the womb, I always feel safe even if the odds are against me.

Earlier this morning, I witnessed an event that I would really, really, really-------forget. I mean, who wants to remember the melancholic disaster of III-Dalton? I’m beginning to feel that this school year would be hectic with these happenings. Who knows what will happen next?

But the fact is, I’m at home. And as long as I’m here with my family, I’ll always be safe. Though, there are some things that I can’t bear to live by here.

It was lunch. And as usual, the off-beat singing of my mother of the song “Sweet, sweet Nightingale” can be heard below. If she trained that voice more often, then she would have the capability to shatter glass with a third octave do

My noisy siblings are also there below laughing to what Ms. Pretty Vice (a famous gay comedian in the Philippines) is saying. Right now, I guessed they are watching “It’s Showtime!” That show has been proven to be the best antidote to depressed water bugs (and for that I mean people).

"Ma'am! Ma'am! When I grow up, I want to be a---medicine!" Ms. Pretty Vice said like a rampaging horse. Then all of us laughed, including me, since the volume of the television was at 70 and the joke was pretty corny.

I always laugh at all kinds of jokes. Even the corny jokes that Xyrel Euphales or Renz Joseph Corales mention will make me laugh. What can I say? Laughter is the best medicine.

Anne Curtsy, a fellow artist, replied to Ms. Pretty Vice. "Ha! Formalin you!"

Again, we cheered, clapped and laughed to that joke. I think mom noticed that I am also listening to the show. Then Johnvince, my brother, asked mom, "Mom, what's formalin?"

"It's a chemical used in making medicines.” Vitz, my mom, replied. Johnvince didn’t replied but I’m sure he didn’t get what mom meant. After all she’s a teacher.

Dad's laugh subsided and whistled a tune while repairing the motorcycle. He is at the garage at the moment. His clothes are blotched with dark oil. Jhun’s, dad's name, sweat slowly trickled down to his brow. Still holding to his wrench, he wiped off the sweat and went back to work.

I looked far beyond our compound boundaries. People are bustling around with activity. A lot are having lunch while watching “It’s Showtime!” That show gave smiles all over the country but I still prefer “The Lunch Surprise” from the other network, GMA 7.

Others are preparing for the afternoon session for school. Looking very closely to the nearest window that I could see, a student of MORMS has begun to pack his things and go to the campus. As for me, I’m doing nothing.

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