At my computer again when


HKADGAHSGA 6 (this is a name of a game hehe) is coming out soooon!

Call me a gamer, because honestly, gaming is my life.

I eat, sleep, and study videogames.

At home, I have three computers each with the latest features. I have two speakers that can blow your ears off, perfect for my video games. I also have an X Box together with 123 games every gamer would die for. Although I want to replace my phone, I have an Iphone 5 with 64 gig perfect for my cravings for high def graphics applications. My room is built perfectly so that all my gadgets have a place.

Yes, I’m spoiled. Well maybe that’s one of the many perks of having two rich business-oriented parents. Although they are always out of town, I appreciate these gifts they always send me. HAHA

I want to get this new video game. I need to have it.



He’s perfect.

His voice, his accent, his hair, his nose, everything. Even the way he walks, honestly. I find grace in everything he does, especially when he sings.

It started that way- simple adoration.

Then, I began to like him even more, love him.

I got his number through a friend. I began to text him every morning, every after school, every night, and even at midnight. I began to stress out during the times he won’t text back. Once, I called him. Once became twice, thrice. It became an everyday routine.

I never actually talked to him personally but I watch him not too far away. I see to it that I know who he mingles with, who he goes home with, and even who he eats lunch with. I take note of every detail- the time he enters school, his schedule, the time he leaves, etc.

One time, I actually followed him home. His house is painted dark blue with a red roof, three or four flower pots on the doorway, wooden door, marble tiles, two guard dogs. A few days after, I didn’t notice I’ve been following him since that day.

That’s how much I like him, love him, want him.


“I need them all”, I said.

My product presentation is only a few days away. I’ve worked so hard for this. This is everything I have. I won’t let anyone get anything from me, even if mom said so.

A few minutes ago, mom’s secretary knocked on my office door, asking if I had extra workers, specifically product designers. My brother is planning to release his product next week. I never knew he’s into this kind of thing. I know he doesn’t. So why want it now? Why ask from me? What does he want to prove?

No, he’s not going to win this. This is my thing. This is what I lived my life for.

These workers I have right now are mine. They won’t be working for my brother, parents, anyone. They’re meant to work only for my product, my line, mine alone.


And there she stood with all the riches, all the beauty, all the intelligence. She stood there with everything, everything I wanted. I’ve always known her.

Rich, pretty, smart … perfect. We were bestfriends, sisters almost. We had so much fun. We were inseparable. I remember it like it was just yesterday. Although in fact, it’s more or less 10 years ago. It all came down too fast, our friendship. We had so much memories, but what happened? Our families. It didn’t seem to work out.

It was the 27th of June when my dad left us for them, her and her mother. Crucial. It was 27th of June when I lost someone who had a huge role in my life and she gained someone to call a “father”, 27th of June when I lost the caring mother I once had and she had the happiest mother, 27th of June when I lost the family who raised me to who I am now and she was able to complete hers, 27th of June when she decided to take things, little by little until I have none while there she stood, unknowingly taking things from me, having everything I want.



Everything turned black. Amed became dizzy, unconscious of his surroundings. His father was explaining but he can’t understand anything, only murmurs which were barely audible. His environment was turning. It was turning very fast, too fast. He doesn’t know what’s happening. All he knows is that he Is mad; angry at his father.

Who wouldn’t? This is too much, he thought. He can tolerate his father coming home late, drunk. He can tolerate his father’s swears and curses. He can tolerate his casual punches. But, when it comes to his sister, Adria, it’s a  big no. Adria is the only family he considers. He can tolerate anything, everything. But, the bruise that he saw on Adriana’s arms a while ago, that was enough. It was enough to crave for revenge, for blood.

The true Amed is quiet, responsible, understanding, helpful, a really good student. But, the Amed now isn’t him at all. This guy was looking for a fight, wanting justice. He grabbed the closest thing his hands could reach. He stabbed it to his father in one swift move.

Silence… that’s all there was- silence. His consciousness was back. He raised his hand and saw blood. There was blood on the floor, on the couch, on his father.


“No!”, I shouted back.

Marissa stood there, quiet. Who wouldn’t be? An innocent, quiet girl had just shouted for the first time. A girl who never stood for herself, a girl who never fought, a girl who barely talked, a girl who was always helpless, she shouted. She was giving a fight for the very first time.

“I said no”, I repeated, more calmly this time.

It’s not my fault, is it? It’s not me. It’s him. It’s his fault. I am the victim. I shouldn’t be the one to blame. He lied to me. He did it on purpose, I know it. It’s not fair, being the one who looks like the bad person while in fact; I am the one who was played with. I never asked, I admit it. But is it not fair to be informed about him leaving? Is it not fair to know the things I need to expect? Now, people think I’m the bad guy, the antagonist. No, I won’t let my walls down again. He’s not worth even a glance. He lied. It was two years ago, March 4, 2011, our anniversary. I was on my way to his house to surprise him with his favorite, my mom’s macaroons. But, there he was in the backyard, kissing this piece of – okay. I don’t remember much but I knew I ran. I ran as fast as I can away from him, from her, from everyone. I became this quiet girl who doesn’t interact with anyone. He called me a few times? Many times? I don’t know. I locked myself with my own barriers. He did a lot of things to show how sorry he is. He even asked a famous band to play this sorry song shz once. But, I don’t need his explanations, his sorry. I’ve heard a lot about how sorry he was and that he was this stupid jerk blablabla but damn all his words. There’s no justification in whatever he did. Just no.

And now Marissa, his sister, is here informing me that he leaves in two hours. Should I go after him? Should I hear the explanations I’ve wanted for the past 2 years? Should I?

“No”, I repeated for the last time.