I write typical and predictable stories. If your taste is unique, you can't find it here. I'm not a professional writer and still learning, I am not here to please you. I just simply wanna share for FREE. So please, if you're a perfectionist who wants to read a very clean novel with perfect grammar and plot, leave my works.
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Simula
A masculine naked man under a white soft comforter 'till his abdomen. His long thighs were apart while sitting on the edge of his own comfortable bed, he was looking so far outside his glass window in front, palm on his jaw, lips were separated and I couldn't see any emotion on his face... it is still not enough, very lightless and sad... unreadable.
It's bothering.
Just like those coloring books I had been coloring when I was a kid, I had colored them using colorful pencils my Dad gave me. I have always been admiring him for giving me colorful things that I could use to color the blank pictures in coloring books that needed to have their own colors to shine and be alive when the time someone opened the pages to see what's inside this book cover.
I sighed morosely and stared at the man I've been watching for a long time ago now.
I couldn't see his color, I could not find it and I want to cry because of that. Where's my eyes? Am I blind now? What did I do? Where did it go?
I wrinkled my forehead, I scratched my furrowed brow and gasped hopelessly. Isang pasada pa ng tingin ang ginawad ko sa aking pinipinta bago ilapag ang mga paintbrush sa isang maliit na lamesa, pumikit ako ng mariin at bumuga ng hangin.
It hurts my heart.
This is just a man! Why can't I even give him color like how I gave my other pieces? This is bulldogshit!
Iniwanan ko ang mga paintbrush ko at tumayo na. Tinali ko ang aking buhok pataas at sinukbit na ang isang strap ng backpack ko sa aking kanang balikat, nang marating ko ang pintuan ay sinulyapan ko pa ang walang buhay na lalaki kong ipininta. I sighed again and turned off the light before going out completely.
"Woah! What happened, Carillo?" Corvi asked while chortling.
Diretso akong naglakad kahit na hinaharangan niya at sumusunod sa aking paglalakad, napairap ako at bumuntong hininga habang tinitingnan siya.
"Corvi, please, get out of the way." I said lifelessly.
Nagtaas siya ng kamay habang ang isang kamay naman ay kapit ang strap ng kanyang knapsack sa kanang balikat, he chortled.
"Chill, Metry. Tell me 'bout your day..." he said while smiling lightly. "What's up again? Why do you look so off?"
Hindi ako nagsalita dahil pagod na ako sa pagsasalita, I just don't feel like talking now. I feel really sick and lifeless, lalo na kapag sumusuksok sa isip ko ang aking walang kulay na naipinta kanina.
I can't understand it. I cannot even believe I painted such lifeless piece! Shame on my pencils, paintbrush, watercolor and hands!
"So, that's your problem? Still?" his forehead was wrinkled while looking at me, guessing my expression.
Lumunok ako at umiling. Tumingin siya sa aking noo at buhok, dumaan ang ngisi sa kanyang labi pero nanguso na siya para hindi iyon ipahalata.
"Look, you're still my number one idol! Don't be so sad just because of that." he smiled boyishly.
Huminga ako ng malalim at napailing, he can't understand me. I love painting! Paano niya nasasabing huwag akong maging malungkot dahil "lang" doon? Did he even feel like worthless at one moment like that? Ako kasi, ngayon ko lang naramdaman ang pangyayaring iyon.
