Anecdotes of a Hobo [[on hold]]

One - M. C. Angeles

He was wearing a white school uniform.

"Andrei," Meira called out to him. But he did not stop walking nor did he look back. His hair was short. Meira could see the distinctive mole on the upper left side of his nape. She was certain that this boy is Andrei Vincent Bailon. She called him again. "Andrei!" Yet he kept walking. Was he ignoring her like—she couldn't bear to finish her thoughts. "ANDREI!!!" She called for the last time, but he vanished along with his friends who were clad in the same white outfit as he was.

SORRY! SORRY! SORRY! SO—Meira opened her eyes and pushed the snooze button to stop her Super Junior alarm tone. It was November 16, 2009, 5:30 A.M. She was lying in bed, warmly wrapped in her comforters. Meira peered outside the window. It was still dark, and when she stretched her arm earlier to reach her phone, she felt the cold November air on her skin. It was chilly and unwelcoming—just  like this country.

There was a heavy feeling in her heart. She also felt the beginnings of a headache. Because Meira was still drowsy she decided to close her eyes. She curled into her soft, warm comforter. Clutching a pillow, fifteen year old, Meira Cristabella Angeles relished the ten minutes of silence before her alarm set off again. "I'm sorry," she whispered to the cold November air...