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Literary: Unlike Hansel & Gretel





Unlike Hansel and Gretel,
we didn't get lost in the woods,
or find a house of sugary sweets,
or duel a wicked witch.

Instead, this year,
we got closer and stitched our bond,
we got stuck in our own house,
and we got to battle our own mess together.

Like Hansel,
you were as charming as ever,
loving his sister endlessly,
and your pleasant creativity—
magnificent and heartwarming.

While I was the opposite.

Unlike Gretel,
I used to tease you,
I let you fall off your crib—
accidentally, that is—
and resisted your hugs and kisses.

Instead, these years,
I got to help you stand your ground,
taught you to enhance your creativity,
and comforted you when you needed it.
I’ve grown to understand,
little by little,
that you weren’t just a responsibility.
You’re a miracle
that blossomed into a luminous glow
to become a part of my vast universe.

Unlike Hansel and Gretel,
we’re still stuck in our house,
waiting for the curse to be lifted
and wishing it isn’t the oven that will trap us.

Hopefully, in the upcoming years,
we will reach our dreams,
and we will escape this dark era together.
We will grow into a strong pair,
with hands held tight,
and have each other’s backs,
as we fight witches who will harm us.
I’ve grown to wish
for a future of us,
a long-lasting bond stronger than a fairytale.
It’s something I look forward to,
and I’m sure,

We will be stronger siblings
than Hansel & Gretel.

Literary: New Moon





- New Moon
I find my way onto the dark field,
The place where joy and light used to be.
I sit on the bench, labeled B13,
Where the moon could not be seen.

“Unlighted like the sky,
A soul faced death and doom,
Now invisible like the New Moon.”

- Waxing Crescent
Here’s a glimpse to the story:
You met with the blazing fire
On the same field that I sit on,
Waited for me to come at dawn.

“If I hadn’t fought hesitation
And if I rushed like a fool,
There’d have been no one for me to lose.”

- First Quarter
You’re like the half of me.
Since the first day of school
You, who I treasured, was lost
Now gone, at what cost?

“Our lives just started that day,
And we stopped being childish.
Only you burned in anguish.”

- Waxing Gibbous
I remember the nights we spent together
Staring at the nearing full moon.
How many nights have passed?
More memories with you is what I always asked for.

“It kills me slowly, deeply,
When I’m reminded of how late I’ve been—
How my feelings were left unseen.”

- Full Moon
Indescribable affection, I dote on you,
I haven’t expressed, nor said a word
But now all I can offer is the full confession:
Only the stars now know of my passion.

“You were the shining moon,
Where my feelings rise like sea tides
As my magnetic fondness guides.”

- Waning Gibbous
Desire of mine to hear your reaction
Is becoming a mere dream.
You’re not here anymore,
How would wishing help me more?

“You were gone with the wind,
And the moon started to move,
I haven’t been able to improve.”

- Third Quarter
It grants me extreme pain, but I have to let you go.
Half of me doesn’t want to let you leave,
There is nothing I can do but to accept reality.
I have to face the outcome of this unexpected tragedy.

“The year has passed and I’m still here.
You must know these tears are temporary,
I’ll make sure to move on correctly.”

- Waning Crescent
As you slowly start to fade away,
I stand from the bench labeled B13.
The place where we used to sit
Was engulfed in the fire that had the field lit.

“Tragedy of the past, I loathe you.
But to end this cycle is a must
And with my strength, I trust.”

- At last, we welcome a New Moon -

Literary: A Short Trip





A white 2021 Chevrolet Malibu sped on the empty streets, with only the light posts serving to aid the driver’s vision. Despite the stoic expression on their face as their speed passed over the limit, their eyes shed slow tears of the pain they went through on their recent journey, from kilometers of unfinished dues to miles of missed opportunities—opportunities they didn’t take due to their own cowardice and irresponsibility—all of which led them to this hasty steering. They were too scared to grow up, afraid to take responsibility for everything—and that’s when they crumbled.

Nothing more than just a failure, filled with too many mistakes and regrets.

Recklessly, their foot stepped on the gas causing the Malibu to increase its speed, and their sweaty hands to grip the wheel harder.

The pace of the vehicle had the driver seeing blurred golden lights and an endless road. They noticed there seemed to be no turns nor stoplights. There was only a sign showing the speed limit, and they kept on seeing it in the same place right after every kilometer. It didn’t move from its spot, making them wonder if it was an illusion made by their mind.

No, really—was it an illusion? Carved from their own aggravation? Or was it chasing them the same way their failures were?

Frustrated by these thoughts, they stepped on the gas harder just to drive away from the same sign. That thing had been giving them more anger; it felt like the sign was taunting them. A growl erupted from their throat after seeing it mocking them once more. It didn’t want them to leave, and that was the worst part. They just wanted to run away—run away from it, run away from everything!

The Malibu’s speed went up to 120 kilometers per hour. As the speed surged, the lights turned white, images blurred, and the driver didn’t see any more pavements. Instead, a dark void waited ahead. “What is that?” was the only thought they had in their mind before screaming out of fear, as their grip lost its hold on the wheel. They closed their eyes as terror seized their gut.

This was it… an end to it all.

Yet, nothing came.

No pain, no anything.

They didn’t hear the sound of their expected crash--only the sound of jovial laughter. Perplexed by this, they whipped their head up to peek through the windshield. Their sight was welcomed by warmth and youth, a school playground with sand on the ground, children on swings, and other students waiting to be picked up by their parents. It reminded the driver of freedom—freedom from dues and challenges.

Just happiness.

Suddenly, the driver saw something that caused their stomach to drop. A different scenery was outside their car—their young self was right there, making their hair stand on end. The young clone was at kindergarten age, and it was playing a game with its classmates called Agawan Base. The driver recognized this scene: the youngest memory they had of themselves. A time when the only things troubling them were the small things such as: What food were they going to eat for dinner? What was forty-one plus forty? What gift would they receive for their birthday?

But, this memory... why was it shown to them? Were they dead? Surely not—their heart was still beating faintly in their chest.

They touched their face and felt fresh tears streaming down their cheeks, and they finally broke from their stoic expression from before. They became vulnerable when they watched their young self laughing joyfully. They felt a sense of wanting to go back to that state, of wanting to grow backwards and turn back time to do everything they wanted. Cowardice was what they felt next, realizing how scared they were of facing their own adult life.

Why couldn’t they move forward? What was holding them back?

“My immaturity held me back,” the driver sobbed. They held their chest as it throbbed in pain from the harsh truth. They gripped the steering wheel again, bumping their head on it, tasting the bitter reality they had put on themself.

They glanced back at the memory playing through their windshield, only to find the young clone facing them. It was creepy (Of course it would be! Wouldn’t you be creeped out, seeing your own self in front of you vividly?)—until the warm smile that they once owned was given to them by the younger copy for comfort.

Neither of them spoke to each other. Only awkwardness emerged from this strange atmosphere as the adult adjusted their teary sight. They weren’t sure if the younger one was trying to say something, since it started to move its mouth. No sound resonated from its throat but they could read its lips, forming a small phrase that they immediately understood.

While it was whispering, flashing white lights interrupted their staring contest. The lights covered the driver’s vision, taking the clone out of their view—and before the bright flash finally dominated their sight, they felt a tear slide down their cheek.

It was merely a second later that they woke up in a dazed state as echoing voices rang in their ears. The similar light from before was still present in their sleepy eyes, and they could hear orderly voices. The Malibu driver figured they were on a hospital bed. Words like “stable, conscious, breathing” were heard from the foreign voices. However, all they could think about was what the clone told them:

“Time to move forward. Don’t be afraid.”

The driver breathed, smiling faintly.
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