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| Photo Credits: https://www.facebook.com/ZamboNewsUpdate |
Day 13.
It has been twelve days since this nightmare began. Even though I am in Manila, 1,102 kilometers away from the sporadic firing and the occasional bombings, I can still feel the pain, loss, panic, weariness from all this poorly written script of some insane person's mind. I can taste the unimaginable fear of my people in my mouth- putrid, like puffing an expired cigarette. My heart skips whenever I see posts in my face book wall of gunshots, house fires, airstrikes, and mortars dropping anywhere like the ones handling them are just throwing them in the air aimlessly (or purposely? who really knows.)
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| Photo Credits: https://www.facebook.com/ZamboNewsUpdate |
Some nights were unforgiving, because even though my body's dead tired from working 9.5 hours straight, I still could not sleep. Thinking, worrying of my family and friends back home. Though Mommie kept assuring me that they are okay, I still could not stop myself from being paranoid. Some of my friends have been displaced, others seek shelter to some relatives' house until the air clears out. A former classmate's father was shot dead while fleeing from the perpetrators. Her mom who was held hostage too, had been released a few days after. And to make matters worse, my classmate was in Dumaguete at that time and could not go home because flights were canceled.
I feel for the people who have lost their loved-ones, their homes, their livelihood, but most importantly, they lost their sense of security. The number of evacuees in Grandstand and other schools are growing by the thousands. People are growing hungry, stocks are becoming limited. Men, women and children's health are deteriorating due to harsh conditions. Unfortunately, so is their hope.
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| Photo Credits: https://www.facebook.com/ZamboNewsUpdate |
If this is some crazy person's idea of a sick joke, I'd really want to introduce my fist to his face.
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