Friday, October 02, 2009
I led the family without a license. On the highway, we stopped for a while near the home for my sister needed to accomplish a certain task she had in her mind. My sister and I went down, leaving father and mother inside the vehicle to guard the interior.
Both of us entered home. She took her time and I grew tired of staring.
When affairs were done, we started walking back. When we crossed the street and were about to come back, the jeepney suddenly riled in advantage before stopping. It hindered our perception that bonds our entirety to the family. It started moving back without looking at the rearview mirror, ready to ram us down. Out of common sense we evaded its slowness, saw our vehicle and went in.
Father grew mad at his fatigue and quit to lead the family after I accompanied my sister going home. Rather forcing a replacement, he continued to drive around until we halted to the lake side for peace of mind. It was high tide. It was a beautiful scenery, the lake was filled with blue. As we stared, a little girl went down to swim, but was bitten by an amphibian. She succumbed to the violation and let her body sink.
The amphibian was a snake. It was still hungry, striking eyes lingering on the family. It jumped right at us as we grew frightened. Suddenly, mother threw her iron and electrified the pencil-thin snake. It died.
The family, in the end, decided to get it for it might be a remedy to those who could possibly kill it with its kind. We were prepared, to avoid death.
Erika Ruiz
