Round 1 : Spirited
Round 2 : Spirited 2
Round 3: Spirited 3
Two hours ago, her brother just left heading to his home, back to own family. They both came back to their mother's house after throwing her ashes by the seashore where their father's ashes were thrown as well. She was just ten years old then.
Seated in her mother's rocking chair, she reminisces about that moment when she handed a card to her mother after her father's funeral.
While she locked herself in the chair, she roamed her surroundings with her eyes. Around her were books, notebooks and piles of papers arranged in orderly manner in her mother's two bookcases on both sides of the chair, and a writing table against the end corner of the Library Room. Right on top of the chair was hanging a luminous rosary and an image of the Virgin Mary.
She smiled and remembered.
"This is where mom prays her rosary every morning."
She took a deep breath and stood from the chair. Curious about the books on the shelves, she ran her fingers through them. One shelf has a label, "The Writer Series". She counted them and realized fifteen books in them.
"I have read them all, mom."
She whispered to herself. Smilingly she imagined her mother embracing her as her way to show her appreciation as always.
As she went to another shelf, she found more books with different titles.
Another shelf was labeled, "The Bible Journey", still another shelf labeled as "The Little Ka".
"Ah, I remember that you've said your favorite among your writings is The Bible Journey."
She flashed back the memory on her mind, closing her eyes, and remembering her mother's glowing eyes in telling her so.
"And I believed I had told you that I like The Little Ka, the most special to me is the photo you used."
And she repeated the strong laughter they had shared together.
As she opened her eyes, she noticed a pile of draft papers down below the shelves.
The bookcases have five shelves and the drafts were on the fourth. She picked them up and read the title.
"Que Dios Me Perdona"
In English, the title means May God Forgive Me.
"Of course mom! You write stories in different languages. The more you learn a language, the more you try to prove to yourself you can write in a new language."
So she took the pile of papers and went back to the chair and read the story.
One by one she read through the drafts. The story was written in Spanish, a language she and his brother know as it was the native language of their father.
She accommodated herself well in the chair. After reading the story she felt startled.
"Why in spanish, mom?"
She could only ask herself the question. She took a deep breath and looked at her watch.
"It is getting late."
She looked at the piles of papers on her hands but only found blank papers.
She was shocked. She knew and was sure she was reading a story. How come she looked at it again and they were all blank papers.
"I wonder if that story has a continuation anyway, mom."
She said those words as if talking to her mom. She looked around and realized herself standing in front of herself wrapped in a blanket, sleeping on the rocking chair of her mother.
"Am I on a dream?"
She asked the question to herself and she remembered something.
The blanket her mom uses to warm herself up every time she seated herself up in that rocking chair was still hanging by the backrest. She had opened it and covered herself while remembering her mother.
Herself standing as her dream vision in front of her body sleeping on the chair, she decided to join herself.
While closing her eyes, she remembered the words of the mother in the story she just read and said it to herself.
"Lo prometo."
Thinking about her own mother when she made a promise, she opened her eyes again then closed them definitely, allowing herself to take that desired rest, smiling and thankful of her mom joining her father wherever they are.