The Flowers under my Pillow

'Why did I have to witness everything that happened tonight?' As he lay in his bed, his thoughts raced through his mind. 'I have an exam in the morning, and I know I'm not going to sleep tonight.'

He tried to close his eyes in the hopes of falling asleep, but every time he did, he was greeted by the girls' face and the sound of her voice calling his name, which he replayed in his head.

It was 12 o'clock in the evening, and it was raining heavily in May. A girl lay on the side of the road, drenched from the rain and with bruises covering her face. The girl grunted as she tried to stand on her own two feet, but she couldn't because her body was in so much pain. She was clenching her stomach to put pressure on her stab wound. She tried to stand up again but failed and fell to the ground once more. As the rain continued to fall heavily around her, her wound was oozing a lot of blood, which was dripping onto the road. She had given up hope and had simply let her body lie on the side of the road, waiting for the moment when her soul would leave her body. That was the first time she understood the true meaning of rain, which she had never experienced before.

'Is... is this the feeling of... happiness?' She was puzzled. Despite the fact that it was difficult for her, she managed to say something.

She closed her eyes slowly and simply let the rain fall on her face and all over her body. She is unconcerned about what will happen to her; all she wants is to rest in the midst of the downpours.

'I hope the rain doesn't stop,' she said almost in hushed tones.

The girl passed out while lying on the side of the road in the middle of the night, with no one around to call for help, not even a single soul.

Have you ever felt as if the rain was entering your heart while you were dancing beneath the drizzles? Did you feel anything different when a drop of rain fell on your cheeks, like a kiss from someone you care about? Tell me how you're feeling. What were your emotions like at the time? Because she'd never felt or experienced anything like that before.

The young boy with an umbrella noticed something on the side of the road from a distance while walking along the side of the road on his way home. It wasn't long before the rain started pouring again. He moved closer, double-checking the object he had just noticed. He knelt down and approached the object, noticing that it was a girl who had passed out.

'What happened to her?' mumbled he.

He noticed blood on the ground near where the girl was lying while checking on her. It combines with rainwater and runs down the road. It sounded as if it came from the girl's stomach. He took her pulse and discovered that it was not beating at all. He is unable to locate her pulse. He took out his cellphone, which he kept in his pocket. He dialed a phone number.

'Mama? Are you at home?' he asked over the phone.

'I desperately need your help. I'm standing on the small bridge, and a young lady is nearby.' 'I believe she is in pain.' His voice was a little too loud because the rain was still falling heavily.

'She's unconscious; I'm not sure why I couldn't find her pulse,' the boy says. 'Come on over here.'

He hung up the phone and slid his cellphone back into the pocket of his jeans. He tried again and again to find her pulse, but he was unsuccessful. In an attempt to stop the bleeding, he tossed the umbrella to the ground and applied pressure to her stomach. This was his situation until his mother arrived on the scene.

'What happened to her?' his mother, who was also holding an umbrella and appeared concerned, asked.

'I'm sorry, ma, but I'm not sure. I just happened to see her this way.'

'That's fine. Everything is fine.' I'll contact the barangay.' She hushed him and gently touched his son's cheek.

'Does she appear to be all right?' The youngster inquired. He looked down at his hands, which were stained with the girl's blood.

'She's fine, anak.' You only need to go home and change your clothes.'

'But, I'd like to stay here,' he said.

His mother is currently on the phone with the barangay. She was on the phone with someone when she told them what had happened. She spoke in hushed tones so her son wouldn't hear her.

'You're not supposed to see this,' said her mother to her son.

'Ma, I'm of legal age to be witness this crime,' he explained.

'This is not a crime scene,' said the mother. 'She simply passed out. Go... put on some new clothes,' insisted his mother.

The ambulance arrived on the scene a few minutes later. Another person approached the mother and inquired about the girl, while the others carefully carried her on stretchers.

When her mother wasn't looking at him, the boy moved closer to the ambulance while she spoke with barangay officials and checked on the girl's condition. The medics administer first aid to the young lady. The girl appeared to be extremely pale, with bruises and wounds all over her face. The young lady's clothes were stained with her own blood, particularly in the middle of her outfit. The boy appeared to be very concerned about the girl, who appeared to be dead.

'I hope she's okay,' he said quietly.

The boy crept closer to the medics while they were still administering first aid in order to get a better view of what was going on. The girl was carried to the ambulance on a stretcher and placed inside. As they passed in front of him, the boy's arm was suddenly grabbed. The girl took his arm and said,

'Nill... Nilliam,' she said with a hushed tone.

When the girl abruptly regained consciousness, the boy was taken aback. He gently placed his hand on her hands because they were so cold, and then he gently placed the girl's hand on the side of the stretcher so that the medics could continue to take her to the hospital right away.

When the ambulance began to drive, it was on its way to the hospital to save the girl's life. The young boy approached his mother and the barangay officers to inquire about the situation.

'Why are you still here? I told you had to go home," she told his son.

'I wanted to stay here, and I'm also waiting for you,' said the boy.

'But you're drenched. You'll catch a cold if you don't get some change.'

The boy agreed to comply with her mother's request and simply return home after appearing to be a little dissatisfied with her mother.

A second police vehicle arrived on the scene and spoke with his mother to gather information. The heavy rain had finally stopped, leaving only rainwater that had collected in pools on the road, allowing you to see your own reflection.

The night grew darker with each passing hour, and the boy went to bed, still thinking about what had happened that night. It wasn't the first time he'd witnessed something terrible or unusual for him, despite the fact that his mother had always avoided exposing him to this type of situation when he was younger, and even now that he's a little older. Despite his mother's overprotection, he is far too intelligent to confuse a crime with a normal faint.

'I'm not sure if I've ever seen her around here. But she doesn't look like anyone I've met before. When she touched my arm, I noticed a small butterfly tattoo on her left wrist, which I had never seen before.'

'But the first time I saw her face, I felt a sharp pain in my chest, as if I were carrying her wounds and bruises on my face and body as well,' he says. 'I was in a lot of pain in here while I was putting my hands on her stomach,' he said while pressing his stomach.

'But... I'm curious. What made her call my name?

That contained something that perplexed the boy in his mind. He needs to rest now because he has school the next day. The boy doesn't want to think about what happened tonight at the bridge because it causes him to overthink, which is bad because it causes his emotions to flow all over his body, and he knows what happens when that happens to his body, so he chooses not to think about it. He can't sleep and will spend the rest of the night thinking about the girl and what happened to them.

My invisible alarm clock woke me up as I stared blankly at a painting that had been hung on the hospital's wall. I awoke with a start. Even if the painting appears simple when you try to describe each figure, taking a step back will cause your brain to become disorganized as you attempt to decipher the painting's overall meaning.

'The artist must have been going through a lot of emotions while creating this.' I sighed, feeling a little envious.

Why am I in this hospital? You're right. I'm sick. I'm suffering from lupus. So, in a nutshell, it's a disease that occurs when your immune system attacks your own tissues and organs. That's a little too easy to grasp. However, if you notice a red or purple butterfly on your face, you should seek medical attention right away. When I was fifteen, the butterfly shape on my face appeared. I first developed an unexplained fever, and then I told my parents that I was having joint pain and that my weight was fluctuating involuntarily. We thought it was nothing to worry about until one day I became afraid of the sun because it hurt my eyes, and my hair started falling out in large clumps. I've been to the hospital almost every day since then. It's something I've been doing for the past five years. So far, I've managed to avoid death. Though not emotionally, they can still see me walking and running around the house.

My doctor then examines me and performs his standard procedures on me. He compliments me on my ability to follow his instructions and take my medications on a consistent basis, as he always does. I'm devoid of emotions, but I still want to live my life. For the sake of my parents, and, of course, because I still want to finish my studies, become a professional photographer, and then have my own photo exhibits. But I know that one day I will die.

After I finish my hospital check-up, I must return to school because I have university classes to attend. At UST, I am a third-year art student (University of St. Therese). It's an all-girls Catholic school with a strict dress code. I've been studying here since pre-school, so this is where I've been studying my entire life! My parents believe that I belong in this type of institution, so they never send me to another. I don't dislike this school; rather, I believe it would be advantageous for me to try studying at a different institution, as I believe I may have felt something there.

Despite the fact that I studied Art as a major at this university, my preferred medium is photography. My parents wanted me to follow in my father's footsteps and become an engineer, but I refused because I am not as talented in mechanical engineering as he is. My mother also suggested that I get a law degree, but I can't even defend myself in front of them. So I chose Art because it was the only option available to me and is the closest major to photography at my university.

Because I am their only child and a girl, my parents are extremely protective of me, so I simply do whatever they tell me to do without question. Sometimes I disagree, but the majority of the time I am unable to carry out my intentions for myself. They always tell me what to do; they don't trust me to make my own decisions.

I don't have many close friends at university. My decision to not have some was based on my uncertainty about how to deal with them properly with emotions. They talk to me, but they also force me to do various tasks for them, which I think is sufficient as long as they communicate with me. I get a little emotional when they do that.

To put it succinctly, I'm nothing more than a puppet to everyone. Everything I do is in accordance with their recommendations; I never disagree because it exhausts my mind to think about those things. As a result, I can easily trust and follow them. I also struggle with self-doubt on a daily basis, so I'm okay with all of this.

I came across a kitten on the side of the road one day. I pulled over in front of the kitten and just stared at it as it wailed nonstop. My mind told me to take the kitten home and care for it, but my heart told me not to because my parents would not let me bring this cat into the house. I finally gave in to my instincts and just took a picture of the kitten. What I really want to do is try something new because it gives me a different feeling. It allows me to feel anything deep within myself, but they always stop me from feeling it. I've attempted it before, but they became enraged and removed the kitten from the house. In contrast, I did nothing and simply let them take the kitten away from me.

I was hanging out in the university cafeteria when one of my block mates called my attention.

'Hi, AC. 'Are you working on anything?' Gean asked.

By the way, we're not friends; I only know her by her first name, and she only speaks to me when she needs something.

'Uhm... I'm... in the middle of... eating,' I replied.

'Oh, you'll be able to have that again later, right?' She smiled at me, sarcastically amused.

'What do you want this time, Gean?'

'Could you please tell me where I can get... condoms?' She moved in closer to my ear and face.

She's up to her old tricks again. Attempting to persuade me to purchase various items. The last time we met, she made me buy two packs of cigarettes.

'At the drugstores,' I responded.

'Would you mind going out and getting some for me?' Gean said as she smiled at me sarcastically.

I exhaled a sigh. With my gaze fixed on hers, I said:

'Where's the money?' I extended my palms to her.

She took a bill from her skirt pocket and handed it to me.

'Thank you, Cindy!' she exclaimed, still smiling.

I know you'll think I'm crazy for doing this to myself, but believe me when I say it's better than nothing. I'm just dying to feel something again.

So I went to the drugstore and spent the entire bill on condoms. I'm not interested in whatever she's up to, but if she's just trying to get on my nerves, then good luck to her. I wish her luck.

I go back to the university and wait for Gean to arrive to get her condoms before leaving until the bell rings. She was sitting in an armchair right next to mine when I walked into the classroom. I then took the condoms out of my pocket and placed them on top of the armchair she was sitting in. Everyone in the classroom was aware of my actions and simply laughed at me.

People who are insane. They thought they'd be the ones to benefit from this, but they're completely unaware that I'm the one taking advantage of and using them for my sake.

Tiffany expresses her gratitude, saying, 'Thank you so much, ACinderella.' She then gave me that smile.

How can I be angry with her when I'm envious of every emotion she's feeling right now? In my mind, I just sigh for her.

That is a lovely given name, though. ACindyrella. In the fairytale, she has a large number of friends, including animals, as opposed to me, who has nothing, not even a single cockroach... or bugs.

I then took a seat next to Gean in the armchair and inquired:

'It's not a big deal, Gean, and I hope you enjoy it.' I had a blank expression on my face as I looked at her.

'Would you like to come with me?' She erupted in laughter.

Regardless of how desperate I am to feel something, I will never go anywhere, especially if Gean is involved.

'Maybe next time... if I've grown out a d*ck.' I lowered my gaze and indicated my crotch.

Everyone burst out laughing when they heard what I said to Gean. Oh, my word! They have a lot of energy right now. Every time I laugh, I want to be filled with joy as well, because, as you know, my laughter is just a mask for my happiness. It's like writing on a blank piece of paper with a pen that doesn't have any ink. That's the best way to put it.

I returned home without seeing or experiencing anything new today, and I plan to spend the rest of the day at home eating, doing paperwork, and sleeping. That sums up my day-to-day life. My life is extremely boring. No. Actually, I am the monotonous one, not the other way around. What am I supposed to do when I don't even know how to deal with myself in public? I feel as if I'm just floating around like a gust of wind. I've stopped socializing because I'm becoming increasingly frustrated with myself. One of my classmates suggested that I seek professional help. Perhaps she's right. It might be worthwhile to consult with a psychiatrist.

Every morning, I yell that as if it were my mother's alarm clock, attempting to rouse her from her slumber. I'm not sure why she feels the need to hide my socks in a location I'm not aware of. It can be difficult to find them at times, and it consumes a lot of my time; I'm sometimes late for school because I'm still looking for my socks. I'm not complaining; I just value my time and dislike being late for school. When you walk into the classroom and your professor is the first to arrive, you draw a lot of attention. That's not how I want to feel.

'Finally!' I exclaimed as I rummaged through my mother's drawer for a pair of socks.

I grew up on an island where farming and fishing are the primary means of subsistence. I wake up with the sun on my face and a glimpse out my window. I'm sleeping under a clear sky with millions of stars wishing you a good night. I've never been anywhere else because my mother never let me go anywhere, and she dislikes traveling because it makes her seasick. I occasionally told her that I wanted to travel outside of our island, but I never got the chance to persuade her to agree.

My friends and I once discussed crossing the island to visit a neighboring island. We just wanted to be a part of their fiesta celebration, so I lied and told my mom we were going to spend the night at one of my classmates' homes. She let me go to my classmates' house, but she couldn't help but keep an eye on me. So she went to my classmates' house and found out that I wasn't there to review our lessons. She called me on my cell phone and expressed her disappointment with me. I didn't enjoy the fiesta because I was preoccupied with my mother and how she felt after I disobeyed her. I adore my mother and don't want to cause her any harm as a result of my actions; it's just that there are times when I feel compelled to do something I thoroughly enjoy. It breaks my heart to deny myself that feeling.

My college, from which I am graduating as an engineering student, is one of the best in our province. This major was recommended to me by my mother, who told me that if I became an engineer one day, I would be extremely wealthy. I initially refused to let her choose my major because I believed I should make that decision on my own, but I eventually caved to her request. I'd like to major in art with a writing concentration. It's a shame I can't share my poetry and short stories with the rest of the world because I love writing them. Nonetheless, I continue to write and let others read my stories to my classmates and friends. I'm not very good at expressing myself verbally, but my feelings appear to be realistic when I write them down on paper.

I am confident in saying that I have a large number of good friends from both school and my barangay. Despite the fact that I am initially uncomfortable making new friends, I am grateful that they are the ones who come to make new friends with me. I became aware that something was changing within me as I grew older. Not in a physical sense, but rather in an emotional sense. I've developed a strong sense of sensitivity to things, and I feel as if I understand every detail of what's going on. That strikes me as strange because I had assumed I had a heart condition. I expressed my concerns to my mother, and the two of us went to the doctor, who determined that I did not have a heart condition. We were relieved by the negative outcome, but the situation remains a mystery to me.

When I went to the ocean to write my story one day and saw a single rock bedded on the seashore, I was overcome with a sense of loneliness. It may sound exaggerated, but I felt it was my responsibility to move the rock to a more visible location among the other rocks on the shore. The fact that it cannot be moved begs the question of why it was transported there alone and apart from the others. Is it possible that the other rocks conspired with the ocean and told him he'd be washed away? Or has the rock simply decided not to be washed away by the waves and to stay put because he's had enough of the other rocks? That doesn't make any sense to you, does it? Because whenever I tell my friends about this, they just laugh at me and think I'm weird for being able to see such things. To be completely honest, I have no idea what that is supposed to mean. I'm too emotional to see clearly, and I'm not sure if it means something good for me or if it will lead me down a dark path.

Although it makes no difference to me what message I receive whenever I feel those emotions in relation to those specific things, what I don't understand is that it also urges me to stop feeling those emotions because I can feel them right down to my bones. In reality, I couldn't explain it well enough. I thought that having a positive attitude toward my surroundings would help me appreciate life more, but there were times when I couldn't take it any longer because it hurt so much, and I desperately wanted it to stop. Is that something I could put a stop to?

In order to get to school on time, I skipped breakfast and dashed out the door. I'll say it again: it's a Monday morning, and I don't want to be late.

'I need to tell my mother to stop hiding my socks.' I was slightly irritated.

Then I hopped on my bike and pedaled as fast as I could down the road until I arrived at our school. Unfortunately, I came across something on the side of the road while riding my bicycle down the road. As I got closer, I realized it was a kitten. It had suffered severe injuries. It appeared to have sustained a severe injury to its right leg. I got off my bike and went over to see how the kitten was doing. It could have been hit by a car or a motorcycle.

'Are you all right?' As I gazed at the kitten, I asked.

Its eyes were welling up with tears. Despite the fact that its voice is so small, it screams so loudly every time I touch its injured leg.

'I'm sorry, but I won't be able to leave you here.'

In this situation, what should I do? I'm afraid I'll be late. We also don't have access to a nearby veterinarian. This is the feeling I despise. When other people see a kitten crying for help, they simply walk past it, continue on their way, and maintain a blank expression on their faces. And here I am, incapable of even killing a mosquito. I'm simply too much.

As a result, I made the decision to bring the kitten home with me. I returned home with the kitten, which I loaded into the basket of my bike and rode back to my house. I gently cleaned the wounds on the kitten and wrapped them in a small piece of cloth. I was extremely gentle with it. I called one of my classmates to inform him that I would be attending the next class and would have to miss the first. Following that, I prepared milk for the kitten and forced it to drink from the container. I was ecstatic because the kitten had finished the milk. I don't have anything edible in my system.

'I'll just get you some food when I get home from school,' she says. I addressed the kitten in hushed tones.

Before I left for school, I told my mother about the kitten and entrusted her with it, telling her that all she needed to do was give the kitten milk.

'By the way, Nilliam, what time you'll be home?' My mom asked.

'Maybe 5, ma', I replied.

It wasn't a special day at school this time. I had my regular classes to attend, as well as the paperwork we needed to finish. I returned home right away because I needed to finish some paperwork and buy kitten food for my orphan. I was riding my bike and swaying my body in time with the wind, having a good time.

When I got home, I went straight to the kitten, but I was in so much pain when I saw it, lifeless and lying on the cloth I had prepared for her earlier in the day. My heart had been shattered into a million shards. I was so excited to give her the food I had bought for her, but I arrived too late.

I understand that this is an exaggeration for some people, and I agree with that, but I'm not sure if anyone else feels the same way about me in this regard. Others may believe it is so simple that it is perfectly acceptable for them to do nothing whenever someone or something requests their help. That, however, is not my way of thinking; I place a high value on life. I've always believed that we only have one life, and if there is any way we can help others avoid death or live longer lives, we should do everything we can, no matter how difficult it may be. Humanity, on the other hand, will live on in our hearts forever. Every day, I look forward to seeing the people.

I was holding the tiny kitten in both of my hands and murmuring:

'Perhaps I was too late... too late to go home.' I could have... saved you.'