June 13, 2013. It was the day I left my hometown. It
was the day I parted with my sister whom I grew up with for the past 14 years
and my mother, whom always had my back ever since I was in her womb.
A
gloomy feeling met me as I woke up on our tight soft bed. As I proceeded with
my daily routine, that parting feeling that you get when you’re going to leave
someone special to you kept me preoccupied throughout the early frosty dawn.
As we
proceeded on our day, we went to the school where my father has enrolled me. As
we asked the school administrators to pull out all of their requirements that I
gave and ask them to return the amount we paid, I started feeling that “sense
of goodbye”— an emotion in which I cannot explain to myself.
As we
practiced our patience on the bus stop, a serene kind of sorrow swept upon me.
Already, I was having this uncanny “goodbye” king of feeling. I wanted to shed
tears for I know I will miss my friends, my sister and most especially, my
mother. I know that months, or probably years will stand between us before we
meet each other again.
As
the corpulent pale bus stood in front of us, I knew it was goodbye. I knew it
was time to part with everything I grew up with. As I rode the bus, as my
mother told the driver where to leave me, I was able to hear her broke off
inside. It was like every word she said was a hell block of ice— so heavy and
so cold. I wanted to look at my mother’s eyes. I wanted to see what her soul
was emotionally concealing. Yet, I was incapable. She wore a pair of
sunglasses; and that made me wonder. Did she wear it on purpose so she could
keep her pain a mystery? Was it her way of being strong for me? Before the bus
took off, I hugged her so tight and bid her my goodbye and told her that I love
her. I knew, time will stand between us, until we meet each other again.
June
13, 2013. It was the day I left my hometown, my friends, my sister and my
mother. It was the day, I was homeaway.
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