Choices

I was part of a troupe of actors, con-artists, devoted suicidal cult following. We had finally finished the conversion mission. Our last act was to sacrifice ourselves. In the group of 10, only one will survive to do the sacrifice. It wasn't me.

We dressed up in our best garbs -- white lace gowns and tuxedos. And we waited on the second floor of the nearby church in the middle of the slums. Four of us at the right balcony, and rest at the other side.  We watched the sun set through the stencil(?) Window of the mother holding her hands out to her devotee. And when darkness rose, we lit the candles around us and laid down on the floor. Our hands clasped together in prayer over our bellies.

As our leader went through the members, my decision wavered. I didn't want to die. I wanted to live. I counted the moans of the dying. On the seventh, I opened my eyes. On the eight, I watched a woman stabbed and die. On the night, I heard my self beg. Please don't kill me. Please, I changed my mind. I want to WRITE. I have yet to finish my piece. There's so much more I have to write. I have to write about this! 

The leader and I struggled with the knife as my pleads fell on deaf ears. We rolled on the floor and I found myself on top of him, overpowering him, stabbing him,.

I ran down and away from them dead fanatics. I looked for a garb to hide the splash of scarlet on my white lace gown. I found a priest's cloak, a San Franciscan robe. I wore it and ran towards the exit under the mother holding her hands out to me. I knocked down the candles and it ignited the whole place as I ran away. Far at the edges of the slum, I watched the church burn down. I watched the people living in the slums gravitate towards the spectacle. While all backs were turned on me, I turned my back on them and left.

I found myself at a bank bed of a creak. It used to be a flood that etched a permanent tide. Industrious people had made it a living to offer a means to cross to the other side. One was a barge; it was easy and clean, but the wait was long. Another is a series of planks meant to serve as a bridge; they were long and they were winding, and they were muddy, but there was no waiting to get through. It takes about the same time if you take either.

I didn't have enough for the boat, and I had plenty for the plank bridge. I took out the only money I had from my pocket -- a $5 coin and it shone like gold. There were four faces on the head. I didn't care to see the tails. But I felt the texture of it and I felt it was a waste to just use it to cross a simple creak. I looked on the muddy banks and I found a series of stones to get me to the other side, faster and free. Yes they were slippery and unstable, but the other two means had their own risk. The barge could sink if it went over the maximum capacity. The planks could break from wear.

So I took my chance and jumped from one stone to another as a barge crossed adjacent to me and people on the planks balanced themselves from falling. I reached the other side safely. A man with light brown hair and long face complemented me for making my own path, and I saw from his eyes the twinkle of attraction.

As I was changing my bed's linens, the man with light brown hair and long face pleaded to me to go with him to party. I told him I'll go when I finish changing the shams. He took a sham and started finish withd vigorous speed.

After a night of partying, we took my patron's limo and dropped everybody home until it was just the man and me left. The limo driver asked us where we off to and the man said to bring us back to his place. The driver asked clarifying if he should wait for me or just drop me off and come back. Considering we had to get the limo and the driver back to the mansion before my patron was back, I threw the decision to the man: either we go back to my patron's, his parent's mansion and he could leave as soon as he was fit to drive; or I go to his place and I stay overnight, and the driver could pick me up in the morning.

He was held aback. I could feel him sobering up because of the choices I had given him.

I woke up before I could get an answer.

~oOo~

Interp pending

Sulu Whirlpool

It's in a place where I had been before in one of my dreaming lives, but have never been in real life; the place with lots of interconnecting malls and a very confusing light rail train; an alternate Philippines.


A competition was being held. And my ex, Squal, was entering a song he had written in collaboration with Chiaki Kuriyama.  But he had forgotten his music sheet in Sulu.


And so I took the fastest route to Sulu, through the Whirlpool I once took in another dream to Palawan.


(got distracted and wasn't able to finish writing this. so the dream memory has faded a bit and i can only write of what i remember)


Although, I was supposed to go to Sulu, I went to Palawan, where there were boats that ferried people to Sulu. I took a boat just to get that music sheet, and in the trip, a couple of guys from the island tried to pick me up. I liked the attention. 


I spent a night in Sulu, and got back to the competition in the city just in time, with only a minute to spare. 


I found Squal in the waiting room, sitting beside Uno. I delivered the music sheet and then sat on Squal's lap while looking at Uno and watching how he'd react.


I saw discomfort in his eyes. But, one could also interpret it as disgust.


(From here on, I can't remember anything else except going back to the beach and the amusement park I once went to)


*analysis to follow*