adventures in neverland

as soon as i saw him, his frail body carrying two pieces of luggage and having difficulty opening the gate, i knew he was dying. but nobody noticed that other than me. it was a sweltering saturday morning, around eleven, and the sun was at its most unwelcoming mood. the entire household, with his mother at the control tower, was busy preparing lunch. you could smell dishes being cooked, vegetables, onions being chopped, garlic being sauteed, and hear his mother shouting orders to the maids who were bantering while doing their chores in the dirty kitchen. they were all sweating even if electric fans were on, but nobody seemed to mind. it was a feast that his mother was preparing. not for him. not for his arrival. but for her husband's nth death anniversary. his mother will forever love his father, keep him alive in her memory, even if in the end, he was not a very good husband and father to their three children. her mother cried and embraced him tightly as soon as she saw...

"she finally realized that the loud noise of her laughter that echoed for hours in the huge living room and made everyone who heard it smile silently was simply the tears that she hid, and even ignored, for years from everyone else, including herself. after reading her diary, she recalled hearing her sobs deep into the night when she thought everyone was asleep. but she was wrong. she was awake. but she was too young to realize what was going on with her life. too afraid of t he dark hallway to get out of her room and knock on her door. how she wished she did. how she wished she tried to listen to her when she was older and could therefore understand her more, instead of just dismissing her outright as a "drama queen." how many times did she have these thoughts-- what else would make her sad? she was living her dream, everyone's dream. wasn't that enough to make her happy? but now that she's dead after jumping down from the rooftop of her thirty-storey ...

"it was a vicious summer. the sweltering afternoons and blistering nights made even worse by his wounded heart. he wanted to weep under the roasting sun, the boiling sea water up to his neck, after he saw and heard him flirting with other girls in the beach, even paying special attention to sabel, the prettiest of them all. she of the soft, creamy white complexion and long, dark as night hair, and a face and the voice of an angel. she looked a lot like phoebe cates, the hottest hollywood actress. tall and dashing, and a nymphet in short shorts and tight, figure hugging white shirt that accentuated her bulging teen-aged breasts. he has been secretly in love with him for almost a year now. at that moment, the burden of the secret, the immense guilt, the weight of the forbidden feelings were just too much to bear. like those sleepy afternoons, when the heat was intolerable, he waited for the rains to start pouring. to help him drown the sorrows of an unrequited young love. he...

before she left the room, theresa, her long, black hair tied into a bun, took a one last look at the sleeping paolo. she lingered at his handsome face, at the w ell-sculptured nose, at the long eyelashes, at the small, closed mouth. those lips that made her swoon in ecstasy last night. in a month, she will marry paolo's father, the sixty-nine year old businessman, who owns half of the city's real estate, as well as several restaurants, hotels, even a taxi fleet. paolo, who is her first love, does not know it yet. but soon he will and she hates the thought that she will be breaking his heart. quietly, she turned off the light and closed the door. outside it was still dark. the beach has calmed down now. the waves were turbulent last night and the rains were persistent, won't stop. the howling winds have also quieted down. there was a storm signal last night, but they decided to come here to paolo's family's beach house to be alone. to share a night for th...

i knew something was wrong the moment i entered the room. it was a bit dark (the light bulb was off…there was only a candle from where he was sitting)  and a pungent smell of cigarettes and alcohol greeted me as soon as i opened the door.  cigarette smokes swirled like invisible tiny clouds hurting my eyes and caused a few tears to swell up, a case of beer on the floor, and the soft humming of the beatles on the cassette player -- here, there and everywhere.  he didn't notice me. he was there, but he was not. he barely moved from his ghostly, statue-like post on the floor. i removed my shoes, my shirt, and my pants. then i grabbed last night's short pants hanging from a nail on a wall right beside my tiny bed. then i sat on the floor, right across from where he was seated. beer bottles, cigarette butts and a lighted stick between us. finally he saw me and gave me a lukewarm smile. i could not see his face clearly. but i knew he was forlorn, like the grey a...