Fiction Short Story

2012-54837

CW110 (Fiction1)

Steep

It was holiday afternoon in July. The sun was still in the middle of a clear sky, firing missiles of unbearable heat. You could almost see the rays as gurgling waves that bounced off the concrete paths. If only there were trees, you thought, maybe it wouldn’t be this bad.

You were having a two-day visit with your mother to her relatives in Surigao City. Her cousin fell down from the steep stairs of their house. The vivid picture of the incident—your aunt’s head hit the tiled floor lead to vomiting fresh blood—as being describe by your mother kept on haunting your mind. Psychological fear arose, that you might also experience what had happened to your aunt. Your father didn’t come with you because he was busy at work in Davao. On your last day in the city, your Mama decided to bring you and your sister Isabel to the carnival. She wanted you to overcome the shock upon hearing the real story of your aunt’s accident.

You noticed that everything in the carnival was manufactured—flat surfaces, shiny polished metal, and pointed. Signposts were painted in, bright colors almost painful to look at when hit by the rays of the sun. You could smell the delicious isaw and proben that was cooked by the various food vendors that paraded along the side park mixed with the different body odor of the visitors you encountered.

You tried to escape the oppressive heat and the crowd, making your way to queue for drinks. The air was thick, and you felt suffocated while making an effort to your every move. You and your sister were made to carry a bag each, the heavy shoulder bag with the sun tan lotion and camera inside, and Isabel the mini backpack, containing all the important things such as money and your house’s keys. You, yourself wouldn’t have trusted your sister the small bag, but she couldn’t carry the heavier one on her own. Your mother had the food bag, filled as though with large rocks, as she pulled it to a bench by the large,...