[Flash back] Ever since my first adoptive parents returned me to the orphanage, I met a girl with bruises all over her body. The authorities rescued her from her abusive parents and brought her to the orphanage. The edge of her lips is still swollen and bleeding, along with the fresh bruise surrounding her right eye. My heart ached to see a fellow child injured to the point that we could not identify how she usually looked without her bruises. Some naughty children made fun of her behind the nuns and volunteers, while some were scared of her appearance, thinking it was contagious. She remained at a far distance while most of us were playing with one another. I was only three years old and will be four in a few days, while she's three months older than me. My eyes couldn't let go of her sight even though I did not dare go near her, fearing frightening her like my supposed older sister, Hannah. A few days passed, and it was my birthday and the scheduled visit of my favorite person, a
'The Lord's thoughts are not like our thoughts, and His ways transcend our ways. Just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are His ways higher than ours. Like rain and snow that flourish the earth, His word goes forth and accomplishes its purpose, never returning empty. It achieves what He desires and fulfills His divine plan.' It is one of Mother Cecilia's answers whenever we ask why God allowed us to become orphans despite how much we tried to be kind to everyone. She emphasized that no one could understand or tell us what He had in store for us because He had predetermined our fortunes before we were born. Only He could tell what lay ahead. He sighed as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. "Haa! I won't bite you. Come closer." "B-bite? Wha—" "Hurry up!" he interjected, his left brows raising. "Take a seat!" I jolted because of his sudden voice, so I walked frantically to the couch before his table. My heart was racing in fright. Seeing him up close, he looked
Others often misunderstand me; it's not the first or second time. I wasn't even sure if it was because of my shy voice that no one dared to listen to my words and explanations. I know I did something wrong this time. I know I'm at fault, but I couldn't help feeling weak against the disapproval and disdainful looks thrown at me.I'm just a human who feels the need to lie to protect myself from being bullied. I honestly didn't intend to lie that much. I wanted to tell the truth about the image, but they did not let me speak, and now it has become out of hand.The toll of my sin weighed heavily on my chest. My eyes bleared as I skimmed through each word on the first email memo due to the gravity of the current situation. It took me a while before my mind finally processed the message it was implying.I gasped, tears streaming down my cheeks while my eyes fixed on the screen. My heart was pounding vigorously, and I had no idea what to feel about the words written on it. The tone of the me
It goes with the saying that history repeats itself. I can still vividly remember the incident that cost me my scholarship in college, and it felt like it happened just recently. The grim stares of my colleagues were identical to those of my classmates back at Davenford University two years ago. ***************** [Flashback] "I saw her, Mr. Hudson! It was Iliana," Hannah, a third-year student from the same department, said, pointing her finger at me. Her lips were secretly curled up behind our dean's eyes. I couldn't deny that it was me in the photo, and no one around me could testify that everything in the image was just a misunderstanding. Davenford University is a prestigious and conservative institute at the heart of Manhattan. Most students come from prominent families such as the Thorntons and the mysterious sole heir of the Ainsley. Though I've never bumped into them except for seeing Zosia Thornton, the youngest and only granddaughter of the Thorntons, at a distance. She'
It's been a few months since I last heard from Sam. I tried calling him several times during my break in the office, but his phone seemed to be off all this time. I asked Grace to help me, trying to contact him by messaging him on his email and social media, but we still received no response. My colleagues did not press any further about my personal life since everyone had been busy during the Christmas and New Year seasons. I even doubt if they still remember the face of the man in the photo I showed them. I no longer attempted to delete the image just in case I needed it later, though Grace had already taught me how. As the new month began, most of my colleagues started getting excited due to the scheduled off-site team-building retreat a few weeks before Valentine's Day. Our destination was quite distant from the city, and we were supposed to stay overnight after the prepared team activity since there would be a seminar and a dinner buffet, then head back home the next day after
It was Saturday morning, and I woke up earlier than Grace. I could still smell the alcohol lingering in my body, which made me feel nauseous and lightheaded. Trying to ease my discomfort, I made an instant black coffee and took a shower to freshen up while texting Sam, asking if we could meet later. He didn't respond even after showering, gearing up for my morning run, and preparing my water bottle, so I tried to call Sam. However, his number was unreachable despite my calling him multiple times. I felt frustrated for not being able to reach Sam. "I should have talked to him when Grace called him last night. I should have asked his forgiveness right then and there," I muttered as I walked to the park. Securing my phone inside my running belt, I began jogging around the park for a few minutes before walking around to cool down. Before, I had no time to enjoy the waterfront view of the park, bordered by the towering golden hues of the honey locust trees as they scattered their leaves