"Guilty ho kami.".. sabi ng isa. He said it in the head. But the reality is different. They all are like that. They all are filled with blood. Death, death by mindgames. They love to see someone crying, filled with sorrow and grieve. At night they needed woman to satisfy their core. They all are heartless. They are blinded by what reality is. They are those superior being who were given privilege to torture someone in the head. In their blood there lies a gene that would say, evil. They ruin the life of the others, they ruin the family around them. They laugh at them at their demise, they torture them when they are at their lowest state. The word guilty is a contrary it is their guilty pleasure. A fire broke out, the darkness of the night was covered with yellow orange and red light, the fumes of the dark and grey smoke start to arise. The neighbourhood was alarmed. Cries, grieve and pain, at the same time jest and mockery did appear. The voices inside the head trigger someone else life. It was something hidden of the norm. Boots appear on the cemetery and he looked on the white cross and he touched one of them. "The government need to explain things to their citizens. One is not enough, hundreds are disaster, more than that is carnage.". He looked on the cross and he said "I need peace. This is the closest cemetery I could be.". He went to someone's Cross and he said "You are fortunate for you are burried in here. You see, I have this story of mine. Would you love to hear it. I called it, lunatic, the lunatic story.".
"Once upon a time, a family who wants to live, shredded by the community. They give malice unto them. Malice hatred and grieve and rumors and whispers and gossips. The family of six stood up, broken into pieces. Sent in every corners of the world. Behind them are the insults and jest, mockery and spit. They stood up like pro, and had an expertise of their own. 90s when their father died, a burial did happen. But the torture still lingers forever. So the next generation move on, and the old passes and they died. The next generation saw the new old, they burried the remnants of those who see the malice. They opened a tomb, and check the source of malice. Yet they failed to do so. They were filled with grief. They now accepted the hallucination thing. Since then, we now believe and accept the reality of the dominance of power. You see, we are cursed with a blessing, but a curse. Young soldier, we possess insults inside the head, we check the validity of the chip but there's none. The old suffered enough, their sons and daughters took the malice, they were scattered across the globe. Torture by the crowd, spitted and trashed. We are the next, the third who will experience same thing.". He took the bottle of wine and he poured it on the cross. He looked at the cross and he saw how pure it is. "The government must explain these things. Or else the new generation will continue to suffer. I am now old, I fear for the new.". He stood up. Then he went to go for a taxi. "Let us go to From taguig to Pangasinan. It will be a very long ride.".