Something new, something to begin with— just a little bit! Maybe I need an emergency kit to heal the wounds in my foot. Sun lit my room as the curtain seemed to lock me at that doom. I wanted to remonstrate but I suppressed the urge, not because I'm distressed, but because I've grown accustomed to silence. The dark became my home-an ever-present shadow that cloaked my days and nights. A new beginning is now my humble abode. It has never been so easy, just like it is a code that I am unable to decode. Recognizing myself all over again felt like trying to piece together the shattered pieces of a mirror, with each fragment reflecting another version of me.
"Mr. Semyonovich Magalhaes died on his voyage," my grandfather announced the news. He was an old man in his favorite tuxedo, wearing a bowtie that he cherished a lot because it came as a gift from his son, my father. That may be the reason why he loves to wear it even on ordinary days.
We are still waiting for his body. "Maybe he is under the sea," my mother said. I shook my head at her, Labas sapagkat naniniwala ako na makakabalik ang aking ama. Ngunit sa pagmulat ko ng aking mga mata ay tunay na wala na siya. At every rise in the morning, I wake up hoping against hope, only to be taken back by the harsh reality that he is truly gone. His absence seems like a hollow space that no amount of wishful thinking can fill, and still, against time, my fingers are crossed in the hope that somewhere out there he still is.
My mother has a petite, sexy white body that draws admiration everywhere. Her reputation is rightfully not only deserved by her natural beauty but also by her extraordinary talent as a fashion designer. With an added gift of being able to create fine dresses that reflect her pulchritude, she comes into the limelight for some sort of fame. Every dress that she designs reflects a sign of creativity and perfect fashion sense, enhancing her allure and elegance. Walang kupas ang kagandahang taglay niya, yun ang bulungan ng mga taong nakikiramay ngayong gabi.
Taimtim ang kalangitan at gayon din ang hikbi ng aking lolo. "Nauna pa ang aking anak kaysa sa akin." He is the one who requested that he wants to decorate the white flowers around his son's coffin.
"Sir Reigh Randolph Magalhaes, letter from a young lad in the Melody Of The Seas," announced Meko, my grandpa's thoughtful and detail-oriented secretary.
 "What's the young lad's name?" Reigh, my grandfather, being curious and somehow surprised, slightly narrowed his eyes and tried deducing possible connections.
"He didn't sign it, but he knows you." Meko's voice was cool, but the mystery seemed to trouble him as well. Matagal na siyang katiwala ngunit natatalot magkamali dahil sa expectations ni lolo sa kaniya sa haba ng panahon.
They both left for the full discussion of the subject, and I remained alone with a few visitors come to offer their sympathetic condolences, which, however well meant, only increased my sense of anguish. The murmurs and quiet sounds of comfort felt like salt in a wound—a constant reminder of the loss hanging heavy in the air.
I strode up and down the room, thoughts like a whirlwind of memories and questions. Who was that lad from the Melody of the Seas, and how did he know of my grandfather?
Above all, why now of all times would he choose to reach out? The unknown author of that letter burned in my mind, pushing it to elevate the mystery involved in an otherwise bleak day.
The sun had set, leaving a long shadow in the room. The truly light made me feel empty, slowly empty inside, completely contrasting with my grandfather, who had always lived so fully. Outside, rustling leaves in the garden clearly reminded one that life is restored indifferently to our personal tragedies.
I was going to the study next to my grandfather's, which was filled up with the artifacts of his many voyages and adventures. Every one of these artifacts had a story, a chapter in the rich history of his life. It's possible, amidst these relics, that something will show—just a clue of what on earth the letter's sender and young lad had meant.
Huminga ako ng malalim. Hindi ko pala kaya na pagmasdan ang kabaong ng aking ama. Dali-dali akong napatakbo sa aking kwarto. Hinayaan na lumipas ang oras hanggang sa araw na ilibing siya ay hindi ako pumunta.
"Magtatampo ang iyong ama Lady Emory," saad ni Meko. 
I nodded. "Tatanggapin ko ang lahat ng sakit, Mr. Meko."
Pero kailan ko nga ba masasabi?
Araw, linggo, at mga taon na lumipas... Kahit kailanman ay hindi ako bumisita sa puntod niya. Pinapasundo ako ni mama kay Meko pero hindi sumama sa kaniya bagkus siya ang nanatili sa aking tabi.
"Kahit anong gawin mo ay wala kang magagawa upang ibalik ang buhay niya. You can't animate the things but you can look for a justice..." Makahulugang saad ni Meko bago niya ko iwan nang gabing iyon.
I became puzzled—irksome to myself because I am the problem. There are dilemmas. everywhere. All the troubles that I created within my mind since I never have the guts to trust myself. Every day feels like a maze of anxiety, where each turn presents another barrier. I want to preserve the serenity like the Pacific Ocean, boundless and unruffled, but it seems an impossible feat. Heal the unhealthy living, patch up pieces of my broken serenity.
Ang gusto nila ang sinusunod ko. They never ask me kung ayos lang ba ako with this ballerina thing since I was a child.
Every pirouette, each plié fills the feeling of a chain that holds me fast to their expectations. I've danced through life, not for myself, but for them, finding steps to the dance according to a script written without my consent. I want to break all these rules of theirs so I'd be free, shatter this glass of imposed constraints and breathe in hard that fresh air of autonomy. Kill the kindness in my heart; let the rebel inside me rise into its rightful place.
Wala na ang ama ko pero ang pagiging istrikto nito ay dama ko pa rin. It's as if his being strict is the ghost haunting my every decision. The voice in my head was loud and clear, stern and Judith unstinting, dictating which path to take. It is a path I never strayed far enough from, yet its demands became more exacting when his presence finally left me. Trapped in this notorious legacy— not mine to win, I have remained all these years.
In quiet moments, I dreamt of life unchained, where my choices are my own and where my spirit dances not to any tune but due to obligation, to the rhythm of freedom. I see a world where I could heal, where desires would not be stifled due to the weight of others' ambition.
"You can be better when you hone yourself. Pain makes you a master," my mother encourage me in a disciplinary way. Where you can imagined how beautiful her smile when she said those words but it's definitely the opposite. The encouragement is just calm but surely, I know how strict she is.
"I can't win this time, Ma."
"No, just spend all day to practice." 
Mas lalong naging mahigpit ang aking ina. Sinusundo at ihahatid ako kung saan man ako magpunta. Lalo na ang pag-e-ensayo para makuhang Odette. Kahit sa mga theater ay nais niya din akong pasalihin. Hindi ko na kaya... Hindi ako makahinga sa kanila.
Ayokong makita ang sarili ko sa kaawa-awang sitwasyon. Kung saan ang replika ng akin mukha at malinaw na nakikita sa salamin. "You're not good at anything, Emory," I told to myself. I get the scissor to cut my hair but I can't. 
Encourage by myself. "Try to win again and again." I pleased myself but this is I can achieve. To disappoint them is not my fault anymore.
I FLIP THE PAGE, this chapter makes me feel unwanted. Hindi ako ang nakuhang Odette na matagal kong pinaghandaan. I feel unappreciated sa lahat ng ginawa ko. Dekada na dapat mas hasa ako sa bagong napili. Pero mas mahal niya ang kanyang ginagawa kahit sabi nila na mas magaling ako. I never got anything from my family. Mas gusto nilang ipagmalaki ako sa kanilang mga kaibigan but they never praise me. Instead, they always encourage more from what I've done.
As I remembered my father's words, "Unmastered skills are equivalent to being powerless."
When I said, "I'm exhausted to the thing that making you excite to see or to have. I'm exhausted to prove myself to be your own daughter who can be versatile. Sorry, Dad."
........."Unmastered skills are equivalent to being powerless."
His words echo in my mind as I look back on how far I have come. I did, but it isn't done. I had to get more tasks to train myself for tomorrow. I want to borrow again the time that I spent, but I know I need to move forward for my chosen path. Tons of obligations. Loads of struggles. Lack of words as time goes by. I want to apologize if I can't bring back the old me.
The new version of me is no longer gaily in her life. I exist, therefore where am I? I am the daughter of Mrs. Katerina Lincolnton—Magalhaes, a woman of a noble heart and beauty.
"You should be the best, not a loser!" She's like a lion, always having roared at me whenever I fail something. "Include your emotions but don't let it control you all the time, Emory."
"I'm sorry, I can't win the victory. I can't bring the trophy to display in our house. My humble abode was gone when my father passed away." I could feel an excruciating pain while I ran toward my room. The walls seemed to close in on me; each step that I took was heavier than the previous one, as though the weight of my unfulfilled dreams was pulling me down.
At 15, I decided to end my life. I needed to prove that I can bring triumph as she wanted me to do. The pressure for Excellency, proving one's self worth by succeeding, became so overwhelming. Every failure felt like a nail in my coffin; every misstep, a solidification of my unworthiness.
"I feel hurt by the way I was treated," I said to her over the phone. "I'm not ready to talk about it yet. I will let you know where I am." Binaba ko ang call at huminga ng malalim. Lumayo ako. Tumakas sa bahay na inuuwian ko sapagkat hindi na iyon ang tahanan ko. Mas mabuti nang lumayo kaysa sa maging preso. I needed to get away from the expectations that were consuming me and the constant criticism to be myself.
It was both fear and liberation that walked away from the house that had never felt like home. The road ahead was indefinite, but it was mine to chart. I had to learn to trust my own voice, believing in my worth beyond the accolades and approval of other people. That path was daunting, full of self-doubts and moments of despair; it held out to me the promise of freedom.
Kay lamig ng umaga na kinailngan ko pang matulog saglit ngunit napababa ako sa hagdan dahil gusto ko ng mainit na kape. I'm still thinking if where I gonna go. Parang lahat ng pupuntahan ko or should I say sa mga lugar na palagi kong pinupuntahan ay naninibago ako. People who know my name, always gazing and gossiping at me.
I want to be in a place wherein no one would ever make me feel like worthless. Useless life! Sana wala na lang nakakakilala sa'kin so I can show that I am fine but not okay.
When no one knows you, you'll probably smile at them without hesitation. When no one knows you in a place that can make you feel free—truly free. You will just love being a stranger to everyone, for they will never bother to say anything profane that hurts your ego. When no one knows you, some people start to get to know you even without permission, just from observation. But when nobody knows you, at least be the first one to know yourself and take yourself as you are with your flaws and imperfections.
"Thinking about the place that I love, yet it made me feel that I am lost here," she said to Sarah Vygotsky. Napalingon na lamang ako sa gilid ko sapagkat bigla na lamang siyang lumitaw.
Well, I was surprised to see her there; her long, black, shiny hair seemed quite different. She had changed suddenly. "Hey! How's it going?" I asked. A quick breeze blew and parted her short hair from her face.
"I quit, so I changed. I surrendered, so I rebooted. I cut the ties, so I'm free," she said, her voice wasn't just full of relief and resolution—so was her entire spirit.
Nagulat ako sa kanyang mga salita. Nagpapaalala na ako'y ninais ding sumuko at bumitaw na walang pag-aalinlangan katulad niya. "You leave?" She nodded her head. "What's important is you save yourself."
"I don't saved myself either. It's a choice if you want the triumph or if you want to stop to be free." She striding ahead. Dumating ang kasintahan niya at sabay na silang nagtungo kung saan. Nagpatuloy na din ako sa paglalakad. Gusto ko sanang bumitaw pero sa mga mata ng tao ay hindi na'ko makatatakas.
"You always care about what they say." I saw Mochi, he is my childhood friend. Bigla na lamang 'yan susulpot kapag kailangan ko ng kasama. Sometimes he just around, namamasyal with different friends. Friendly even though disappointed minsan sa kasama.
I sighed, "Lahat na lang kilala ako. Kapag nagkamali ka ng isang beses, you are useless." I tried to share my problems but my mouth doesn't want to explain something. I just felt destructed.
"Encourage yourself is the best choice." Napakalusog ng itim at mahabang buhok nito na halos takpan ang kaniyang nga mata. "Keep moving, my ballerina."
Bigla ko na lamang siyang binatukan. "I want to quit," pagsuko ko sa kaniya.
"Don't." Umiling siya. Siya ang desisyon na parang obligasyon kong tuparin.
Nagpatuloy ako sa paglalakad. I currently wearing my white dress na regalo niya sa akin after my performance. Nakarating ako sa isang garden. Madaming taong naroon ngunit nagpatuloy ako upang makita ang kagandahan nito.
"Do you know about Mr. Augustine Aquinas?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
"Somehow, last year I heard from Sarah that he is one of the most famous young voyagers; then, however, was all I ever heard of him," I replied, trying to recall the vague details.
Umiling siya na tila sapat na ang tugon ko. "Aita," he murmured. "A garden of bliss."
His words hung in the air, a cryptic hint that left me pondering. Sa hindi ko inaasahan ay napadapa ako sa lupa. Someone bumped into me without apologizing at all, and I stumbled, my hands hitting the ground hard. I rose with a start, and then an angry look at who did so.
I fell onto his arm instinctively to balance myself. "Do you have eyes, or do you feel something when you hurt someone?" I asked him, my words shaking with pain and frustration.
He did look down at me; he did not seem much affected by that incident. His expression was impossible to read—a mask of indifference that just got my goat. I could see something there in his eyes—an annoyance, an amusement, or something altogether different. I don't know.
"I'm sorry," he said, but it came out with no remorse behind it. It sounded more of formality, an apology. He gently but decisively pulled his arm out from my grip, and now I felt myself getting flushed with embarrassment and anger.
I wondered as I got up, dusting my clothes off: what kind of person does this to another human being and walks away? Had he simply been arrogant, or was it life that had made him so, where empathy had to be garnered? His demeanor reminded me of the indifferent world with which I felt lost often, with people brushing by one another, never touching.
I regained my composure, letting it pass. There was no reason whatsoever to irritate him, who obviously did not care. But his words kept echoing in my mind; Mr. Augustine Aquinas: "Aita—Garden of Bliss." It was like a riddle staring right at me. Who was that secretive voyager, and what does this garden of bliss stand for? An unpleasant encounter, yet it raises curiosity.