What Year Did Lapu Lapu Died

Five years after my death, my daughter, Emma, dialed Xander Green’s number. She cautiously asked, "Do you like my mom?" She was trying to get an answer to the question I once wrote in my diary. "Xander, do you like me?" Unexpectedly, the voice on the other end sneered, "Did your mom put you up to this? Using her own daughter like a pawn? What an unfaithful woman! She’s already with your dad, yet still trying to rekindle things with me?"

One day, everything is still normal. And another day when their dad had to offer them a tip for travel- or as what it seems. Faye Elanise, along with her twin sister, Zaye Eranice, followed his order which led them meeting four strangers. Stuck inside a room of vines, a man appeared out of nowhere giving them the key for a vine-covered door which they later found. He left them hanging, questioning their identities. And that is when the mystery behind them started to awaken. A starting point to find... what lies within them. All Rights Reserved ©Trixie Sherice/plumints

June was devastated after knowing about July's death until she discovered a familiar mark on his dead body. - - - Alien, UFOs, extraterrestrial beings -- those are the things that Juniper Gallego and Julius Lysander Ignacio love to talk about when they were still kids, but when June's family moved out, they barely communicate through letters. Until one day, July's death shocked everyone including June. She hurriedly go back to their old town only to discover a familiar mark on July's corpse —the mark they once feared when they were littles.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

It is in the human nature to expect things from a person. And of course, as a human, one will tend to try to reach their goals no matter how big or small it is. One will strive hard to reach those expectations, sometimes even ace it. However, not all things goes the way one planned it and that is what happening to Pharynne Mauridelle Cortés. Pharynne Mauridelle Cortés is a full of hope woman. She's a woman who will give her all selflessly no matter what and how much struggles she have in life. However, no matter how beautiful a rose can be, it wouldn't change the fact that it still have thorns. Thorns that even she herself can get hurt by it. She is beyond what the society wants her to be. For beyond what it seems to be in the strongest façade a woman can have, is her broken and wounded self that she couldn't even mend it herself. And when she reached her outmost endpoint, her world clashes with Jhariêx Ivan Romanov Strëízhnnërr IV. The man full of mystery who will be her anchor and thread of light that will help her heal and rebuild herself. But then, when things are almost at its place, she will suddenly discover the mystery behind his life. Being lied to and destructive pain she felt, causing her demons to fully swallow and win against her. No matter how beautiful and delicate a flower is, if it starts to get rotten inside, it will still wither and die.

What happens when the life you thought that was once perfect becomes a complete nightmare overnight?. Vivian thought she had the perfect life married to the man she loves but she's left completely heartbroken when he betrays her and has an affair with another woman. Now all she wants is revenge to make them pay for hurting her. Filled with hatred and revenge will she be able to move on from the hurt that was inflicted upon her or will a new prince charming with secrets of his own sweep her off her feet and teach her to love again?

When my husband accompanies his childhood sweetheart to the vet to treat her pet fish, my son accidentally spills his drink on her. My husband watches as his childhood sweetheart's eyes redden. Then, he slaps my son hard and throws a stack of cash at him. "This is your chance to make up for your mistakes. Buy Wendy a dress—make sure it's white!" My son dries his tears while holding onto the money. He roams the streets, searching for a white dress in the middle of the night. When he finally finds one, he ends up getting beaten to death by some drunk hooligans. Even in death, he clutches the bloodied skirt tightly. I burst into tears of despair as I hold onto his body and call my husband over a dozen times. However, he's too busy with his childhood sweetheart's fish. He blocks my number. When he finally calls me back, he sounds icy and angry. "Wendy is still waiting for that dress! Where has the little brat gone to? Can't he even handle such a simple task?"

The day I win the cheerleading championship, the entire arena erupts with cheers for my team. But from the stands, my brother, Nelson Locke, hurls a water bottle straight at me. "You injured Felicia's leg before the performance just so you could win first place? She has leukemia, Victoria! Her dying wish is to become a champion. Yet you tripped her before the competition, all for a trophy! You're selfish. I don't have a sister like you!" My fiance, who also happens to be the sponsor of the competition, steps onto the stage with a cold expression and announces, "You tested positive for illegal substances. You don't deserve this title. You're disqualified." All the fans turn against me. They boycott me entirely—some even go so far as to create a fake memorial portrait of me, print it, and send it to my doorstep. I quietly keep the photo. I'll probably need it soon anyway. It's been three years since I was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. Knowing I don't have much time left, I choose to become the type of person they always wanted me to be—the perfect sister who loves without question, the well-mannered woman who knows when to keep quiet, and the kind of person who never, ever lies.

I am the daughter of the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, my parents are very rich, but I have nothing. When black magic was eating away at me with a month to live, I asked to borrow ten dollars and they said I was "not worthy." I dragged my sickly body to buy the cheapest herbal medicine, but I saw them spending billions of dollars to celebrate my foster sister Vivian's 18th birthday. Tears streamed down my face, I just wanted to spend ten dollars on a piece of fabric and make my own ceremonial robe, even though I wouldn't live to be eighteen.

"Mommy, you have to be the first person to come pick me up, okay?" These are my daughter Dorothy Grant's final words to me when she walked me out of the house this morning. But when I stand at the kindergarten's entrance with a box of Dorothy's favorite strawberry shortcake in my hands, the security guard just stares at me as though I lost my mind. "Ma'am, this place might be where Sunflower Kindergarten is located, but it has already closed its doors for three years. This place is now a retirement home." I rush into the "kindergarten" instantly. The spot where the slide used to be is now replaced by a row of flowerbeds. The room that used to be the classroom now hosts a bunch of elderly people, who bask in the sunlight. With trembling hands, I call my husband, Chester Grant, on the phone. He sounds very exasperated and exhausted over the phone. "Honey, we've been married for five years, and we choose to be childless. You've never given birth before."