The Worst Thing Since Puberty (One)

June 29th, 2008 • 1 comment Fiction, The Worst Thing Since Puberty, Thoughts

Of Oishi Ridges wasabi flavor, and a cool Sunday night, I begin my attempt to write anther fiction. This time, it’s longer, and it has chapters. I don’t wanna call it a novel as of now because I don’t know how long the story will be. But anyway, scroll down as it begins…

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Chapter 1:
Sober Up

THE engine gave out a loud roar as the jeepney moved three meters further in the middle of the bumper-to-bumper traffic. My eyes were locked in a sight of oblivion in the sky, not even attempting a single slight move. Since what had happened in Room 202 about a month ago, I never took my mind out if its locked doors, impenetrable walls, and opened windows. I never gave a damn if I flunked my subjects, thinking about it. I didn’t care about anything at all.

While commuters sweat down of impatience, drivers argue, and horns honk loud enough to destroy an eardrum, questions ran through my head. Questions that might kill me in an instance — what if my parents would know about it? What would my friends say? What would they tell me? What if the whole school would know about what happened?

A loud shot from a gun and screams of the commuters and pedestrians broke the silence in my head. It was a driver having a fight with another driver. Absurd, I whispered under my breath. I checked the time on my wristwatch and saw that it was five minutes before seven A.M., I was getting late for school. So I patiently went down the jeepney and just walked my way up to school. I did a ten-minute walk, and so, I ended late for school…ended in the Prefect of Discipline’s office, telling him the same old reason for my tardiness. It was the second time in a row I got late and the Prefect said that if I make a third tomorrow, I would be under disciplinary probation. I just nodded at the end of his long speech about how being a disciplinary probie could affect my schooling and all. That was all just a piece of crap. I didn’t care about it. Didn’t care about anything. I have a life to fix, a future to have, and friends to tell what my secret was. Oh yes. Just about I stepped out of the Prefect’s office, I have decided to tell my friends what happened a month ago at Room 202.

Just as I slowly took my way up to my classroom, I remembered what my mom told me just before leaving for school that morning…

“Hey John.” she called, just after I opened our front door.
“What?”
“You know….” a short pause, “secrets are like wine, the more you store it, the more bitter it becomes…the more bitter it drags your throat; the more bitter, the more sober you become; the more sober you become, the worst things happen.” another short pause, “now, you go home early because I’m not gonna accept your lies anymore. No more excuses this time.”
“Yes mom.” I said.

Secrets are like wine, the more you store it, the more bitter it becomes. Why in the face of the earth did she tell me something like that? Did she know my secret? How did she know?

I was about to enter my classroom. I sighed, took a deep breath, and prepared myself to drink the wine.

To be continued…