Cavite State UniversityDon Severino de las Alas Campus (Main)

College of Arts and Sciences

Midterm ExaminationHumanities 4 (HUMN 4)

(Literature, Man and Society)

“One-Paged Fictional Story”

Submitted By:Richard Kenneth U. Bandiola

Submitted to:Ma’am Diana Estrella

(Instructor)

Date Submitted:August 14, 2014

“Shoebox”

“Mom! Mom!” screamed a little stranger, a little child that I saw behind our gate. I am in our house’s veranda, and I can vividly see her from afar. She was wearing a white dress, embroidered with a name I can’t see because of her distance to me. She carries something like a package with her two hands.

“Mom, Mom!” she called me once again. I began to walk to reach her place. “You must be mistaken. I’m not your mom.” I said. “You are my mom. I know you are,” said the child. I was very perplexed with her assurance and innocence. She may be describing someone else, someone I don’t know. I have my boyfriend, but never will I have a daughter. I’m too young to be the one she’s describing me as I am.

“I know you are my mommy, you even gave me this.” She showed me a shoebox. I shook it, but it was empty. I remembered something from it, until I realized that this was the shoebox of the nursing shoes my boyfriend gave me in our anniversary. “How did I gave you that shoebox?” I asked the girl. “You gave me this as a present, don’t you remember? I was even very happy to receive it!” she said as I returned it. “Really? You’re very happy receiving a shoebox?” I may be thinking worse, but I will never be happy receiving one.“I’m very happy to receive it from you, mom, this was your first gift to me! Let me guess. You don’t even know the occasion today, do you?” I’m getting crazy. “It’s my birthday today!” she said, waving her left hand in the air. “Oh, uhh, H-happy Birthday!” I said, really baffled this time.

She hugged me so tight and I felt her heartbeat. It was very pleasing to feel, very overwhelming to experience. Now I know I’m getting nuts. “Thank you mom! I’m very happy because you greeted me today. I’m very happy to see you being happy for me. I know that you’re sad these days because of dad. Please be happy for me. Don’t be sad, please? Please smile for me! Mom, I want to see your smile!” she pleaded me to smile. But for no good reason, I just followed her to end this up. I smiled at the little fellow. And I saw her smile too.

And it ended. It ended naturally. I never thought I was only dreaming the whole time. I woke up with a heavy feeling. I tried to get up, but to no avail. As I gained my consciousness again, I realized it was dark outside. I realized another thing. I was not in my room. A window and a table is beside me. When I tried to remove the blanket I was covered, I was horrified. Blood was all around me. They are in the sheets. I cried and screamed. My mother hurried back to the room to check me. She felt relieved. “You’ve awakened. Let’s go now.” She helped me get up. I managed to make a few small steps, until I got used to walking. It still ached, but not like before. A mirror was against a wall outside the room. I saw my face in a glance. I was pale and sullen. My mother gave a few bills to a lady waiting at the front door. I think those summed up to a five hundred. I was very sad and depressed, especially when I saw the lady carrying my shoebox. Her shoebox.

We went to a tricycle terminal to ride one that will take us home. It was a ten minute ride, from that horrifying sight to what I called home. Father opened the gate, and started saying things I never understood nor ever listened to. Mother followed after we had entered the main door. When they had finished, I requested to have a rest in the sofa. They made me want to go to bed, but I refused. I stayed there. I had slept the whole night there, crying and criticizing myself. How low I’ve sunk, how crazy I am to easily give in, and how I managed to accept aborting her as an option. I thought my life was a piece of waste across the face of the earth.

I woke up again the next day. It was morning. Even if it hurts a bit, I walked outside the door to our veranda. Then I remembered my dream. As I recalled every moment of it, I wished it was all true. I wished I had really been a mother. I wished I had experienced that dream again. I wished it never ended. I wished I’ve had her back.