I see what you did there! Haha, so I guess, from now on, you’ll be You for me and I’ll be Me for you (get it?). Seriously, though, I think we need to stop with all these lame jokes we’re throwing at each other because it’s bound to get old. I mean, I do tolerate it as much as the next person, seeing as I give lame jokes once in a while, too. But we might just get tired of it at some point, and that wouldn’t be any fun at all. Plus, we have a long time ahead of us, we might run out of lame jokes if we keep them coming at this rate.
Anyway, you’re actually so right about the fact that no one really wants to read about the weather. I mean, I think our parents or the “grown ups” like to show that they are interested to read it, but I think they’re just yawning on the inside. I, personally, don’t like finding out what the weather will be before it actually comes. It makes life much more of an adventure if you don’t know what’ll happen tomorrow. You could be suffering from humidity today and then wake up happy tomorrow, seeing the snow outside your window (so maybe that’s quite an exaggeration but I’m hoping you’re witty enough to get my point). I mean, what fun would life be if you knew every single detail that’s bound to happen from the moment you wake up till the moment you fall asleep again? I’d say that’d be quite a bore. (I’m quite chatty, aren’t I?)
I’m sorry if I’m gonna sound a little crazy right now but, I find it both amusing and sad about your story regarding your relationship with your family. It’s sad that you don’t get along with them that much. I’d like to think that I get along well with my family. I find your story amusing, though, because you certainly have good insight regarding the reasons for why your relationship is such. I like to call that “rationalization”. Haha! Seriously, you gotta at least give your family a chance, I think. Maybe they just don’t know how to deal with a teenager (I’m assuming here, since I don’t really know what age you are right now, but I’m thinking we’re both teenagers cause it’d be creepy if you turned out to be some middle-aged man in midlife crisis). Anyway, maybe the thing with your family is just some misunderstanding. You know how us teenagers can be sometimes. You do know, right? If you don’t, well, we’re usually too moody about life, if you get me. If you don’t get it, forget I ever said anything. Maybe that fact is just applicable to me.
Anyway, since you said something about yourself, I should probably do the same. My favorite color is orange. I know, random right? Most of my friends don’t get why I like the color, cause most girls usually like pink, or purple, or yellow (and in case you didn’t get that, I answered your question: I’m a girl). Well, let’s just say I’m not your usual girl. That’s not to say that me being unusual means I’m weird. Or maybe I am, cause some of my friends actually say “You’re weird” to me sometimes, although that might just be some mindless expression they caught around my school. I’m not gonna tell you what school I go to because that ruins the whole anonimity thing, not because I think you’re some random serial killer who’d stalk me if I tell you. You’re not some random serial killer, are you? But I guess you won’t confess to that so that was a pretty stupid question from me. Hmm, what else can I tell you, then? Well, I don’t have sisters or brothers. I’m actually an only child, though I live in an extended household so my cousins sometimes serve as my siblings. It’s a pretty funny set up actually, because when my cousins and I fight, our parents always point fingers among themselves as to who will scold us. In the end, we usually just get told off, which is funny. I think.
You never told me if you were a boy or a girl, by the way? Tell me more about yourself! Because, despite your “warning” about you being boring, I think you’re pretty interesting.
I finished reading and noticed that I was already smiling wide. So my locker partner is a girl. From her letters, she sounds like she could be fun to hang out with. I’d like to know who she is but from the tone of her letter, it seems like she wanted to milk the anonimity thing some more and I can’t exactly blame her. Not knowing who the letters were from was half of the fun of the whole Locker Letters thing. I put the letter back in my bag and lay down on my bed. I suddenly remembered the girl I’d met at Locker Letters, Julie Anne. She seemed nice, too. It would probably be so funny if she turned out to be my locker partner. Then again, my locker hallway had ten lockers, each locker owned by two people. So Julie being my locker partner was a one in eighteen chance. I’ve seen a lot of teenage girls go in and out of my locker hallway these past few days so it could just be one of them.
Someone knocked on my door and pulled me out of my thoughts. “Yeah?”, I called out.
“Dinner time”, Maxene’s dry voice answered.
I got up from the bed and opened the door. “Thanks”, I said.
She nodded and walked towards the kitchen. I followed, closing my bedroom door behind me.
Frank, Mom and Dad were already at the table. I sat down next to my dad and we said grace, then started eating. No one was making any conversation, which was weird because usually my sister would talk about life at school, her boyfriend, her friends, the new clothes she wants to buy from the mall, and all that petty and trivial stuff she was into.
I looked around the table. My brother was looking at his food as if it tasted like cardboard, but he kept on shoveling it to his mouth like he’d rather be doing something than being idle. My sister was twirling her fork around the spaghetti. A huge portion of her dinner was already at the end of her fork, but she seems to not pay attention to it. I glanced at my mother and father.
“What’s wrong with them?”, I asked my father quietly.
I felt Frank and Maxene exchange glances then look away from each other, almost immediately. I knew they knew something I didn’t, at that point.
“Moe…”, my mother began.
Maxene suddenly stood up. “I’ll be in my room”, she said, turning around.
Before she could even start walking away, my father spoke, quietly but firmly. “Maxene Magalona, sit down”, he said.
Now, usually, this kind of tone of voice from my father can make us three siblings do anything he tells us. So, imagine my surprise when my sister shook her head at him, then she pointed at me. “If you want to tell him now, go ahead. I’m not about to listen to this piece of shit for the second time. Excuse me”, she said with finality, then stormed off.
My mouth fell open. I never heard my sister curse in front of my parents, let alone direct a curse at them. I immediately turned to my father. His mouth was twitching but I could sense that he wasn’t about to call Maxene back down. Which made me wonder even more about what was going on. Clearly, my sister was upset. About what? Maybe I was about to find out. I turned back to my mother.
“What’s her problem?”, I asked.
Frank suddenly stood up, too, and stormed off. This time, my father didn’t bother to call him like he did to Maxx.
“Will someone bother to tell me what’s going on? Or should I just walk away, too?”, I asked, getting annoyed.
My parents glanced at each other. My mother looked down on the table and my father looked at me.
“Elmo, you’re mother and I… we’re going to separate for a while. Just to sort things out. Don’t worry—-“, he was cut off because it was my turn to walk out. I pushed back my chair and ran out of the house. I heard my father’s footsteps come after me but since I played some basketball, and was a quick runner, he wasn’t able to catch up. I ran two, three, six, eight blocks away from my house then stopped in front of a bungalow. I leaned on the fence and tried to catch my breath. I could feel hot tears running down my cheeks, mixing with my sweat. I couldn’t believe it. Despite the fact that I’d heard speculations from my friends’ parents about my parents getting a divorce, hearing the news from them still felt like my world has crashed down on me. Given that they didn’t really say they were getting a divorce, didn’t separation usually result to divorce in the end? I breathed deeply, closed my eyes and let the cool night breeze dry my face as I leaned on the gate of the house behind me.
“Excuse me? I need to open the gate”, someone said in front of me. I opened my eyes and saw the silhouette of a girl standing in front of me. I couldn’t see her face because it was dark and she had her back to the street light which left her face in shadow.
I immediately turned away because I didn’t want her, or anyone, to see my tears. “Oh, sorry. I guess this is your house. Sorry”, I said, my head turned away from her. I began walking away.
“It’s okay. Are you alright?”, she asked, slowly following me.
I waved my hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine”, I answered, continuing to walk away. I wiped the tears from my face and put my hands in my pockets as I walked away. To where, I didn’t really know.
The girl was persistent. She followed me but kept a short distance between us. Enough distance to give me my solitude but close enough that I can hear her without the need for her to shout. “You’re clearly not fine. Come on, I’m sure you need someone to talk to”, she said gently.
I groaned. “I’ll be fine”, I said again.
She kept following me down the block. “You keep saying that but you don’t really have me convinced”, she said.
I suddenly stopped and turned to her. I knew she didn’t expect me to do that because I saw her jump slightly as she, too, stopped in her tracks. I frowned at her. “Why do I need to convince you?”, I asked.
I still couldn’t see her face because her back was still to the street light where we were standing.
“Moses?”, she suddenly said.
And then I recognized the voice. “Anne?”
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