14 Sundays

Written by: bien_021/Bianca

How can you forget someone
Who gave you so much to
remember?

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, places, and events written in
this story are
products of the author�s imagination. Distribution of copy in any other means
without the
author�s consent is extremely prohibited. No to plagiarism.

� bien_021
Prologue

I don�t know what in particular,

but there is something in the air that made me feel her.
Was it the sudden brush of the wind?
The sudden shuffling of the leaves?

I looked up in the sky.

Thinking�
Constantly thinking if she�s there.
If she�s happy.

Does she still remember?

Does she miss us?
The same way we miss her?

I just wanted to see her so bad.

There are so many words left unsaid.
So many things left undone.
So many feelings left unexpressed.

How can she die so soon?

She just turned eighteen.

I think about her day and night.

What if things were done differently?

How can one move on?

How can you forget someone

who gave you so much to remember?
First Sunday

James

...holding on to what
I haven't got...

-tumblr

Ann�s room is kept the way it was after she died one year ago. Nobody dared to
remove anything.
Sometimes mom would suddenly call for her to come down and eat her breakfast and
shout that she�ll be
late for school. Sometimes dad will knock in her room to wake her up and he gives
up when nobody
answers.

Sometimes I swear I can hear my door squeaking and she will peek to see what I am
doing. But no one is
really there. There are times when I sleep and pray that this is all just a dream,
but knowing that she�s
gone almost a year now and will never really come back made everything feel so
real.

I sat in her bed, ran my hands through her pillow and just sit there. Desperately
waiting for her to
suddenly come out of the bathroom and shoo me away.

I suddenly noticed something hard under her pillow and then I saw what she�s been
hiding all along.

It was the scrapbook Enzo gave him last Christmas. Her last Christmas.

In her neat cursives she wrote, 14 Sundays.

First Sunday

I don�t know how to put this delicately but I think I�m going to die. It�s not that
I�m done fighting
anymore; it�s just that my opponent is too strong and I think God would really like
to make the hurting
stop. So in this first Sunday I will write my wish to those I will leave behind.
Especially my family.
FOR THE WORDS LEFT UNSAID:

1. Mom. I love you even if you nag every day, I still love you. Nothing in the
world changes that.
2. Dad. You should know that you�re the best dad in the whole world. You�ve always
been my hero. I
don�t know what I�d do without you. You were my strength when everything just falls
apart.

3. Stan. Thank you for making me believe that it is possible to love and be loved
in return. I love you, Ann
(with your last name on it)

4. Aya. Thank you for not losing your temper every time you tutor me. I love you.
5. Lee. Thank you for being the jerk you are. I swear you are the most awesome jerk
I�ve met in my life.
You are my best friend forever.

6. James. Bye!hahaha kidding. I don�t know what to say to you. I cannot say goodbye
to you just yet
�Is that your last words for me then Ann?� I said, my hands balled in a fist. �That
you cannot
say goodbye to me just yet?�

Up to now I still try not to cry, afraid that when Ann sees me she�ll think that
I�ve given up on her. For me
crying means I lost hope. Crying means I surrendered. Crying means I am already
letting Ann go.

It�s been a year since she died. It�s been a year since I tried my hardest not to
cry. And seeing in her
journal that she cannot say goodbye to me just yet makes me want to believe that
somehow she�ll come
back. I know she will.

I placed her journal back under her pillow, scared to read more. I was right there.
Telling her that I�m with
her. Holding her hand and determined never to let go.

I�ve seen it all happen. Felt it even. Felt how her grasp loosens. Felt how her
hands slipped away from
mine.

I heard her heart beats slowly in the monitor, slowly. So slow until I hear
nothing.

I was there. I was begging so hard for them to let me in. So I can hold her hands.
So I can tell her to live. I
was begging them so hard so I can make her comeback.

But they didn�t let me.

In the past year all I ever did was hate them. Hate those nurses. Those doctors.
Hate my parents for just
crying there. Hate Stan, Aya and Lee for not being there with her. I even hated
myself for not breaking in
and fighting for her.
I looked at the sacred figure hanging on Ann�s wall. �Is this what you�re preparing
me for? You
didn�t even warn me! You took her away when she�s already winning! Is this your
version
of a joke? I was a fool to even believe that YOU exist! I was a fool to stay awake
day and
night just to plead for your mercy! YOU are a lie!�

�James.� It was the first time Stan called me by my first name.

�Go away.�

�You need to lighten up.� He said edging closer to where I�m seated.

�I told you to go away.�

�Dude don�t act like you don�t need us.�

�Fvck Stan I don�t have enough patience let alone sanity to deal with you and your
daily
nagging.�

�It�s her birthday. Or did you totally forget what day it is?�

I didn�t. I can never forget. How every year I get up so early just so I can blow
the balloons I secretly
bought her the day before. How every year I sneak up in her room around 5 in the
morning just so I can
tie them in her bed. Every year I would get her presents and wrap them, and I even
wrap things she
already owns just because she loves opening them. She loves opening every single
one of them. And
though she often tells me that she doesn�t like surprises I know for a fact that
she likes the feeling of being
surprised.

�Just go Stan.�

�She would like it if you go out often. You used to do that.�

�You have no idea what she likes.�

�Dude, you�re not the only one who lost her. Stop acting as if you are the one
who�s only
hurt.�

�Stop acting as if you know how I feel!� I yelled losing every bits of my temper. I
stood up balled my
hands into a fist and looked directly at Stan.

�I know how you feel!� he said, his voice almost as loud as mine.

�Yeah? You do know?

You don�t know how it fvcking feels to wake up every morning having to see her
empty bed.
You don�t know how it fvcking feels to sleep at night knowing that the one person
you cared
about is gone and never coming back.

You don�t know how it fvking feels to pretend every fvcking day thinking that she�s
happy
wherever she is now!

I spent 18 years of my life. 18 years Stan! It�s only been a year since she left!
And you
fvcking want me to just shrug everything off and go out often?�

He didn�t say a word. He just stood there; pity replaced the anger in his eyes. I
am on the verge of
breaking down, but I stand there firmly.

�I�m sorry you lost your sister. And I�m sorry I didn�t get the chance to spend 18
amazing
years with her. I�m sorry I didn�t know how to feel the emotions you have now. But
you
know what, I would if I could. And whatever amount of pain you�re feeling right
now, I�m
pretty sure others who knew and loved Ann will probably feel the same even if they
only
spent a second with her in their entire lives.�

He started walking to the door and I slumped back to Ann�s bed.

�The time you�re finished with your self-inflicted drama, I�ll be by Ann�s park
bench.�

Stan left.

My eyes wandered back to Ann�s room and by her bedside table I saw a picture of her
laughing at some
silly joke I told her. It was her favorite picture she told me once. I didn�t know
why then, since I look like a
pig beaming beside her.

But this time I see what she�s been seeing all along. I see her laughing, so
genuinely I can almost hear it.

I stood up and walked towards the door. My heart cannot take it any longer. The
pain is just too strong to
bear.

�Ann. You could�ve just written you love me. You could�ve just written something
just to
make everything a little bearable�

Instead you wrote nothing.�

Second Sunday

Stan

Maybe I�m just afraid,

Cause honestly, right now,
I can�t afford another heartbreak

-tumblr

I ran towards the hospital hallway, squeezing myself in among the throngs of
patients and their relatives.
No. Ann is not dead. It was just some weird joke Lee decided to throw on me. I
stopped to catch my
breath.

But to be honest I haven�t been running long. I just need to stop and convince
myself that when I reach
the operating room I will see James and his parents waiting for Ann�s surgery to be
done.

Yes. That�s what I�ll see today. I ran again. When I was on the second floor I can
hear someone screaming.
I made myself believe that it isn�t James� voice. No. His is much deeper.

When I reached the operating room corridor I saw James banging his fist on the
operating room door. His
dad helplessly holding his arm while his is mom sobbing beside him.

�No! Ann! Let me in!!�

He banged his fist louder but no one is coming out.

�Fvck! Let me in! I�m her brother! He needs me!! Open this goddamn door!�

�James son, calm down.� His father said trying his hardest to comfort him.

�Ann! Can you hear me? Ann please live! You told me we�ll be together forever!
Ann!!
Please!�

He kept on banging his fist until all of a sudden he lost it. He knelt down, both
his mom and dad trying to
make him stand back up again.
�Please Ann. Please. Don�t leave me.�

I can hear his sobs from where I stand. I am afraid to get any closer. And then the
operating room door
opened and a nurse emerged from it.

And I heard. That very moment after James screamed Ann�s name, �Time of death 7:14
am...�

And all of a sudden I was being pulled back into the darkness, I can�t hear James
anymore. I am alone in a
dark hallway. And then I saw her. Her eyes directly on mine. She is smiling. Her
hands extending trying to
reach mine. But when I tried to hold her she begins to glide away. Farther and
farther until I have to run
just so I cannot lose sight of her.

�Ann! Wait!�

Her expression didn�t change only she�s far from me now, and no matter how fast I
run I can never catch
up with her.
And then she�s gone.
�ANN!� I shouted.

�Stan! Stan! Wake up! Man you�re dreaming.�

I woke up, sweat trickles down my forehead and I can feel my heart beating loudly
in my chest. I�ve been
living with Lee and his brother ever since I came back for Ann.
�Are you ok?� he asked.
�Yes, sorry. It�s just�� but I don�t dare to continue any longer.

�James called he said he wanted to give you something.�

I just nodded; it�s been three days since Ann�s birthday, since our last scream
episode.

�He said he will meet you by the creek.�

Of all places. I avoided that place ever since Ann�s ashes were thrown in there.
Being there feels like I�ve
been fooling myself that she will come back. Being there feels like thousand knives
are being stabbed right
through my chest.

I came nevertheless, to show James that I can handle everything. To act coolly when
in fact all I want to
do is lose my temper just like what happened to him days ago, but I can�t. I can
never show James how
wretched I am because of Ann. I can never burden him with such emotions. He
suffered too much.

I saw James standing by the tree near the creek looking vaguely to the sky.

�I found Ann�s diary. She wrote you a letter. Sorry if I read it. I don�t have the
courage to
rip it out of the page��

�Ann will get really mad if you tear a page in her diary.�

He smiled, �She�ll throw a fist if she knew I�ve been reading it in the first
place.�

And then the awkward silence. Both of us didn�t speak, afraid that one might say
some things that can
hurt the other.

�I photocopied it instead. Here� And then he left. But before he disappeared I

swore I heard him
whisper,

�Don�t tell her I�ve been reading her diary.�

And I whispered him my reply, �I won�t� which I know he heard. Even if he�s already
meters away from
me.

I walked away from the creek just because that�s the least place I would want to
read Ann�s letter.
No. I will read the letter somewhere where I can pretend that the moment I finish
reading it, she�ll come
rushing towards me and snatch the piece of paper away from me just because she�s
too shy that I read it.

I opened it, my hands trembling. Hoping that maybe, maybe� when I finished reading
it, she�ll be back.
Second Sunday � she wrote

Stan,

Last Sunday, I told you I love you. This Sunday I�ll say it to you again. I love
you. You don�t know how
long it has been. I love you ever since that moment when you first crashed in our
house. You and
James were sophomores and I, a mere freshman. I can still remember how easy it was
for me to
memorize your face that night when we sat opposite each other during dinner. I
remember clearly
how you fidgeted every time my mom and dad ask about your parents. It was your
answer that night
that drew me closer to you, remember? When dad asked �how are your parents.� And
your answer
was �They don�t really care about me.�

And since then, you became our regular visitor. Even mom and dad mistake you for
being their long
lost son. Years passed, so many things happened and I came to realize that we don�t
have anything in
common. We are completely opposites. That�s when Lee came into the picture. <3

don�t get me wrong I still feel torn at times. But the moment you open your mouth
and call me �Miss
Piggy� with your mouth full of pizza, fries, burger and some other foods you stuck
in there, I
concluded I liked Lee more.

I hope you don�t murder Lee after you read this.

But then this whole cancer thing came and then came the reasons and little by
little I was drawn back
to the Stan I first met.

And if ever the day comes that I go with God before you, please. Please do open
your heart and love
someone again.

Find someone whom you�ll care about and love, as much as you love and care about
me. Don�t spend
forever holding on because I want you to be happy.

I love you Stan. More than you�ll ever know. And my leaving doesn�t mean that I�ll
forget that. I won�t.
I will hold you forever until the day comes and we�ll meet again. I know. Someday.
We will meet again.

I love you now and forever, and every day in between.

Ann (with your last name on it)

It�s the 8th time I read it. And up until the 8th time I read her name, she never
came.

No one came rushing towards me and snatching the letter away from my grasp.

I read it again until it was too dark to read it all over again.

For the 14th time I read called her name out loud�

But I never saw her.

She didn�t come.

Third Sunday

Aya

But it�s no use going back to yesterday

Because I was a different person then

-Alice, Alice in Wonderland

It�s been a year since Ann died, the last time I went to her grave was during her
burial and never, not even
once, had I visited her grave since then.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, basically to run away from remembering her. I
don�t want to
remember Ann as someone who died. No. I want to remember her living and that�s how
I plan to keep her
memory.

I fumbled through the heaps of paper in front of me cursing under my breath for not
filing it into their
respective piles.

�Aya I told you, you don�t have to take that Advanced Physics subject! You�re
already taking
more subjects than you�re supposed to�

I dismissed mom�s word. I swear I know where this lecture is going.

�You have to deal with Aya. Cry if you want to. Don�t run away from it. It�s the
only way that
you can move on.�

�Mom did you see my report on English Lit? It has a blue and red clip on it. I need
to pass
that tomorrow.� I replied totally ignoring mom.

�Aya! Look at me!�

�Mom! I need to find those papers if not I�m screwed!�

�Aya! What happened to the girl who never worries even if she lost her homeworks
thinking that she can get it done in about a minute?�
I didn�t answer. Sure, I never worry about academics. But this time I did worry.

�What happened to you Aya? It seems like you�re pretending to be okay when you�re
not.�

I didn�t answer.

�I see you haven�t visited Ann yet.�

I became psychologically mute every time mom talks about Ann, she stops and change
the subject every
once in a while because she know it might hurt my feelings. But today she seems to
rub it on my face that
my best friend in the whole world is dead.

�Can we please talk about something else.�

�She�s not coming back sweetie, you have to say goodbye. Sometimes in life it isn�t
the good
things that you remember, and you don�t have to remember the bad things either. But

something inevitable as death should be remembered in a good way. It�s how you move
on,
you should accept that Ann did not want to die, but as I said death is inevitable,
she had no
choice. So you must let her go.�

I stood up looked at my mom and see pity in her eyes.

�Why the hell can�t I find a single piece of that report? I am so gonna flunk!�

The next few days were a blur. Mom is back to normal again, meaning no bringing up
Ann again. But she
doesn�t talk to me anymore, she talks, but not the usual �how�s school?�, �how�s
Lee?�, �how did
your presentation go?�

Nope. She said nothing. By Saturday, when I thought everything is falling right
back on its usual pace I
received a letter from Ann.

It came out of nowhere really, just when I was about to go home, I planned to get
some books in my locker
and when I opened it an envelope fell out from my locker.

I noticed that it is photocopied but I know her handwriting, I know how she dots
her Is, I know how she
carefully crosses her Ts. I know how every curl and every line she makes.
In her always neat writing she wrote; Third Sunday

My hands trembled. With fear but mostly with sadness. I walked without direction; I
didn�t know where I
was going. In my hand was her letter. I didn�t open it until out of nowhere I
noticed where my feet
dragged me.

I am by the creek somewhere in the park, a large sycamore tree covered Ann�s grave
and just a few meters
away was Ann�s favorite park bench. I didn�t know how they managed to bury her
there. I didn�t know,
until I met the one who did.

�I haven�t seen you visit her.�

I know I�ve seen him, but my mind cannot place where I saw his face.

�I remember you though. What took you so long to visit?�

�School stuff.�

�Your friend Ann has been a great help with Sierra. You should�ve seen the look in
my little
girl�s eyes when Ann gave her a wig.� He smiled, his eyes gazing up in the sky, as
if he can still see
her, as if he can still see the little girl�s look from up there.

�To show Ann my thanks I want her to rest in a place where she loves, so I bought
this little
sanctuary for her. So the one�s she left behind can talk to her comfortably. As if
she�s there,
sitting beside them too.�

I didn�t answer I just stood there, feeling the breeze in my face. Pretending not
to feel Ann�s presence.

�I�ll go ahead then, so you two can catch up.� He kissed Ann�s gravestone as if she
was her own
daughter and he whispered, �Take care of Sierra for me, and tell her mom that I
miss her so
much. I miss them so much.�

And then he was gone, I sat beside her gravestone and leaned my back on the tree.
�So it all comes to
this huh?�

The letter is still clutched in my hand, but after a while I decided to read it.
Aya,

When I�m gone I need you to toughen up so you can fight for yourself alone. Ok I
know you�re going
to totally kill me because of that first sentence but hey, you�ll probably never
going to read this if
things turn out differently. (Which I hope and pray it will) but if not here it
goes.

You know what day it is Aya? Well as of the moment it is February 8 the same day
last year that I
found out I had cancer. I often times wonder how will it be like if things were
done differently, you
know, if I hadn�t been the b1tch I was then, if I lived life in a good way, if my
whole being was
different. I wonder if February 8 will be different. But I think that if it did
change chances are
everything will change and probably I might not be able to meet you at all. Do you
know the funny
part? I will rather have cancer than to not meet you.

And you know what I discovered? I found a picture of us. I pasted a copy here in my
letter.

But nothing was pasted, instead there was a big space that maybe, it is where the
picture was placed. I was
holding the envelope when suddenly something fell out from it. It was our picture.
Ann and I smiling, it
was the first day that we met about 10 years ago.

I read her letter again.

Quote

If you are keen enough to look at the date writer below the picture, you would see
that the first time
ever that we met, was February 8. So I thought if I wanted last year�s February 8
to be different then
the rest of February 8s would�ve been different as well. And if that happened we
wouldn�t have that
picture. I hope you get what I mean; you know how I am with words. I am not smart
as you.

Anyway, after learning that we met February 8 and I also found out I had cancer
February 8 I wonder
whether to hate it or not. I didn�t, because it will always be the happy memories
that I�ll want to hold
forever. But that doesn�t mean I�ll act as if nothing happened that 8th of
February. I won�t pretend to
be ok coz I have cancer, so instead of dwelling on the pain.

The time the doctor told me I have cancer, I locked myself up in my room, held that
very picture
you�re looking at in my hands and said, �February 8 was the day I met Aya.� And the
load somehow
became lighter. And with people around me, supporting me in every way, I know I can
do this. And
never did I hate February 8.
I know you Aya, if you ended up reading this then maybe I�m not meant to stay with
you anymore.
And you have to accept that. You should face it and not run away from it. It�s the
only way you can live

happier. You are my best friend in the whole wide world (please don�t let Lee read
this). And me

dying doesn�t stop that.

Be strong. Thank you for everything.

Prettier than you,

Ann

I felt hot tears streaming down my face, it was the first time I ever cried again.

�Did you think that a single letter will fix everything?� I laughed sarcastically,
�You�re still the
most selfish brat in the world. You�re not the one who�s left behind! You are not
the one
have to wake up every morning convincing yourself that it will eventually be ok!�

Tears that I held on for so long started to drop one by one from eyes, as if
they'll never stop. "I've
changed Ann! I'm not the Aya you used to know! And whatever they say, whatever you
say,
it will never help me go back to who I was before. The Aya you knew isn't me
anymore."

I was about to throw the letter away when the picture fell in my hands and landed
above Ann�s gravestone.

And that�s when I realized,

It�s 4:45 PM

February 8,2011.
Fourth Sunday

Lee

�And when you find yourself

lost in the darkness and despair,

remember it�s only in the black of night

you see the stars.�

�Whitey Durham-One Tree Hill

It was almost dark but I cannot seem to move my feet and walk myself home. James
gave me Ann�s letter.
He had been giving us her letters ever since he found Ann�s diary. I should have
been mad at James for
reading it first but Stan told me that he hasn�t got anything from Ann yet.

Ann would have loved the sycamore tree standing just a few seconds walk from her
bench. It could�ve
been her spot if only the tree was planted a little earlier. She would�ve loved
everything, the creek, the tree
and simply the view.

She always loves people watching. Once, when Aya is busy doing logarithms and stuff
Ann said that while
we wait we should watch people and guess what their life story is. It was only in
that moment that I
realized that each and every one of us has a story to tell.

I reached for Ann�s letter in my back pocket and looked at her silver and glossy
name printed on her
grave. �I have a funny feeling that this will be some love letter.� After saying
that I felt a cold chill
run down my spine. It was as if Ann was there, smacking my arm because of
embarrassment.

I smiled, �Better not tell it to Stan then.�

At the top center of the paper she wrote, Fourth Sunday

Dear Lee,

You probably didn't know this, but there was one point in my life, where you have
been my
everything. Funny right? Here I am hopelessly in love with Stan and all of a sudden
I�m confessing
everything to you.

I guess almost all people experienced it, you know, falling for their best friend.
You go out with them
every single day, and spent most of your time with them it is not impossible that
you will fall for them.
I was hoping that in time you�ll feel the same way for me, but instead you fell for
Aya.

You did not know, did you? That when I found out that you�re asking Aya out was
after the day that I
found out I have cancer. I think that since then God hasn�t done much for me but to
take everything
away. I despised everyone, you, Aya, Stan, James, my mom and my dad and God.

And then one funny thing happened, that afternoon when I went home and all of a
sudden my
favorite song played and you are standing by the stairs holding a single rose. Do
you remember the
reason why I loved that song? I told you that it is for the guy I had loved for so
long. Guess what, it
was and still is, for you. The ironic thing though, that night, my waiting for you
has finally come to an
end because Stan came to the picture.

Good thing that Aya only asked you to do that to make me happy.

There are nights when I stare at my ceiling and think of what ifs. What if we
didn�t meet Aya? What if
you and I are meant? What if I didn�t have cancer? Things might have been
completely different.

You are probably laughing at me now since it isn�t really my thing to be this sappy
and corny. But I
have to, because I don�t want to leave without having to tell those who are
important to me that I love
them.

I love you Lee. To the point where I have to choose what to risk, my friendship
with Aya or you. So I
am asking you this Lee, if I lived after the operation I�ll still ask you, was
there a time in our
friendship that you fell in love with me too?

I will not tell Aya,

Ann. XD

I laughed. The people who are passing by stared at me for a second and then
realized why I was there for
some bizarre minute there I saw pity in their eyes. You should�ve read her letter,
it was far hilarious that I
can�t even imagine that the one who wrote it is the very same girl who is buried
here.
Then all of a sudden I felt sad and happy all of the same time, an awkward and
empty feeling that became
all too familiar ever since Ann died.

�I�m sorry Ann, that even if you�re not with me, I always end up hurting you.� I
caress her
printed name on her grave as if I am touching her face.

�All those times that we�re friends, I only see you as my sister.� A cold breeze
swept through the
leaves and into my face, and I knew Ann is listening. And that she knew, all along,
how I always feel about
her.

But that didn�t stop me from promising Ann, that every day in my lifetime, I will
go to that very same
place, and put a single rose in her grave. Every day I do that, to prove Ann that I
love her, more than she
expected it to be.

And not a single day did people pass by

without seeing a single rose under that sycamore tree.

Fifth Sunday

Lorenzo

I was thinking about you,

Thinking about me

Thinking about us,

What we gonna be.

Open my eyes,

It was only just a dream

-Just A Dream; Nelly

Ann once told me how much she believed that Stan, no matter where he is then, loves
her so much. People
around her probably didn�t know a good lot of things that I�ve come to know about
her. Just like she
said, we met in the most bizarre moment in her life.

I wasn�t able to see Ann undergo her operation, which I heard from Lee didn�t go
well. She died a few
hours after I landed here in New York. Often times I�d think that she donated her
heart just so she can
save me, but living in that deluded lie will not, and never will, make Ann come
back.

I�ve probably experienced so many lost in my life that losing Ann seems just like
any other day for me.
Like when my mom and dad both died in a car crash. Like when my only sister died
even when she hasn�t
spent that much time with us. Losing someone for me became all too ordinary, that
God hasn�t done much
but to take all my loved ones away.

I never went back ever since I learned that Ann died. There is no one worth coming
back for anyway. My
grandfather decided to live in New York with me, and every day, ever since we came
here I asked him to
narrate everything that happened the night I thought I could have died.

�You were sleeping like an angel that night.� He started, �You look so quiet, so
serene. I
didn�t want to wake you. Oftentimes you�re smiling. I could�ve been fooled because
you
were smiling the time your monitor went flat. And we decided to move you here as
soon as
possible. You were barely breathing. When I was about to follow you I saw Ann being

wheeled to the Operating Room. I stopped and prayed that somehow she�ll save you.
And
she did.�
The first time I heard that, I thought Ann was my heart donor. But Pops made it
clear that she wasn�t.

�You seem lost in your thoughts.� Juleanne said as she sat besides me. We were
sitting in our front
porch with the wind softly blowing in the earth. It wasn�t sunny, but it didn�t
seem as if it will rain.
Juleanne is my next door neighbor, she loves the simplest things and when no one
seems to cheer me up
when I�m sad, she�s there. Probably the reason why I came to like her.

�Still thinking about Ann?�

I nodded; it isn�t my thing to lie.

�Who�s she anyway?�

I just smiled; thinking about her was painful enough that it made me mute.

�Some forbidden love back in your home?�

�She was my first love.� I said finally finding my voice to answer.

Juleanne looked down and I smiled at her, �Oh.� She cleared her throat smiled and
look at me
again, �What she like?�

�She�s very pretty. When she laughs her eyes turn into half moons. Many think she�s
coldhearted,
insensitive, brat, hell people even call her a b1tch. But they didn�t know she�s
just
as weak and vulnerable.�

�Does she make you laugh when you�re sad?� she asked sounding exactly like a
kindergarten

student.
I had to laugh. Then there was silence. Juleanne is waiting for me to reply. I
looked at the sky. It looked
calm. It looked peaceful. And letting my heart answer I said, �She made me want to
live.�

Before I knew it a single tear fell down my cheeks. �Why don�t you go back to her
then?�
I wiped my eyes and smiled back at Juleanne again. �She�s dead.�
Her eyes widened with surprise and for some weird moment there she seems at lost
for words. This

doesn�t happen at all.

�I�m��

But the beep of my phone cut her. I took it out and almost dropped it when I saw
who sent me an e-mail.
Juleanne leaned over to see who sent it; she then punched me in the arm and said,
�Pfft! You�re a bluf!
How can a dead girl send you an e-mail?�

�She�sh�she�s ---re---really---d�d---de�dead.� I stammered.

I opened it and felt relieved that I wasn�t being spooked when I read James� note.
�Sh1T! What�s her brother playing at?!!� I almost yelled.

�Why?�

�It�s from her brother.�

�Oh. Read it then.� She said smiling at me.

�I don�t mean to be rude but I want to be alone for a while.�

She smiled. �I�ll come back after an hour! And you can�t shoo me away after that.�
And she left.

Enz,

I know you�re shocked. But I need to send this to you through her e-mail to make it
look real. I didn�t
make this up. I scanned Ann�s letter for you. I hope you�re fine there in New York.
Ann would�ve
ranted all day long about the shoes she�d want to get when you arrive home. I hope
you are doing well.
Stay healthy bro. we�re waiting for you to return.

James.

I looked at my laptop that is sitting beside me and hesitantly opened it. I

downloaded the attached file
from James� e-mail and with trembling hands read.
Fifth Sunday

A Letter for Lorenzo (my heartbeat)

Hi Enz! I�m sorry I wasn�t able to spend more time with you ever since Stan arrived
and take a toll in
my life. I would really want it for you to get along well since I know he owes you
so much just for
keeping me barely alive when he came back.

You know I�m not really the sappy, corny, mushy person on earth but oftentimes I
think you are
God�s gift for me. You were the one who made my heartbeat again when it�s already
failing to
function. Sometimes I feel guilty when you�re in pain; it�s as if I�m stealing your
heartbeats.
(DOWNRIGHT CORNY. VOMIT NOW. DONE? GARGLE. CONTINUE READING)

You know what; if Stan didn�t come back I probably would�ve fallen for you. I was
aware that
oftentimes I am whispering your name out of nowhere for no apparent reason; I was
seriously
confused at that time. But I�ll be selfish if I ask you to stay by my side even if
Stan is already with me.

I wish you will meet someone who will share the same sweetness that you have.
Remember the first
time we met? In the park? Remember how you shouted �You�re pretty, but I saw from
the other day
that you�re already taken. I hope you�re not yet married. I would love to take a
chance.� I
remember every single day I had with you Enz. I can still remember how you
introduced yourself as
Enzo because you thought it will sound cool. Guess what Enz, ENZ is way cooler. XD

I can still picture your amazement when you saw that my room is pink. And yes. It
still is pink.
Remember when you said you were disappointed then? I can still remember your exact
same
words�Your wish my command, honestly it kind of broke my heart, at first I was
like, �wooohooo
Ann texted� and when I scrolled down, I was�. �damn.��

You probably don�t know why I�m saying the things I remember about you. About us.
Well, I just want
you to know that though we only spent a little time together, you are still
important to me. You were.
Still are. And forever be relevant. So when you feel like it you can always punch
Lee, Stan or James
when they�re rude to you. As an exception I will give you this letter ahead, you
have my permission to
treat them like I treat them. LIKE TOTAL PIECE OF CRAP.HAHAHA XD JK.

*back to being dead serious*

I�ll always remember you Enz, and when the time comes I hope you introduce me to
that lucky girl
that�ll win your heart.
Hoping she�s not prettier than me,
Ann

I laughed. �Are you happy there? You are not going to believe this but I met Stan�s
supposed
to be wife.�

I looked at the girl whose face I didn�t recognize until now. She�s smiling, waving
at me. Asking me if it�s
ok to talk. I just smiled.

�She still doesn�t know that my first love is also that one girl she said was lucky
because she
has Stan.�

She sat beside me panting; she sits there smiling brightly like ever.

�I told you I�ll be back after an hour.�

Her name is Juleanne. She�s a great girl. And when time has finally healed the
wounds you left me, I�ll
marry her. Not because her dad is some business tycoon here in New York but because
I love her

The same way I loved you.

Sixth Sunday

James

"If you gave someone your heart and they died,

did they take it with them?
Did you spend the rest of forever
with a hole inside you that couldn't be filled?"

� Jodi Picoult (Nineteen Minutes)

Each and every Sunday I go to Ann�s room, bearing the pain of wanting her back,
bearing the pain that she
will never, no matter how hard I wish for it, she will never come back. Every day I
read her diary hoping
against all hope to find my name on the next Sunday only to find out it�s for
someone else.

I still read it, and still sending it to that person. Every time I do that I see
concern in their eyes, knowing
that the only thing Ann said to me was �I�m not ready to say goodbye just yet.�

This supposedly sixth morning I didn�t enter her room. Five Sundays are hard enough
for me to bear. In
the kitchen I saw mom, making pancakes. In the dining room Ann�s seat is still
tended, a plate a spoon, a
fork, a knife and a glass underneath a placemat like it always does. My dad would
usually fill her plate
with pancakes, probably thinking that it�s hard enough to see it empty. So
depressingly empty.

Oftentimes when I�m being asked how many brothers or sisters I have I fell quiet
for a second. What do I
tell them? Do I say none since she�s dead? Or do I say yes even if she�s now a
fragment of my dreams?
Most of the time I would answer none since it�s much easier to say than having to
explain and admit that I
have a sister but she will never come back because she already passed away.

I sat behind the kitchen counter and poured myself a cup of coffee. I don�t drink
coffee; I hate the bitter
taste that lingers in your tongue after taking a sip. But ever since Ann died I
started drinking, because
somehow I can focus on the bitter taste and not the bitter longing I�ve been
feeling almost every single day.

Mom and I don�t talk much, and we haven�t shared a conversation since Ann died.
Well not entirely, she
still calls me for dinner; she asks how my day was. Typically the questions she
asked then, only now it
seems so scripted.
After eating I headed my way to the junction and waited for a cab. Only last year I
was in the same spot
waiting for the school bus with Ann. Now I�m on my way to tour my new school. Then
something funny
happened, the school bus stopped in front of me, at first I thought I was only
hallucinating but when the
door opened and the driver peered in through the door I knew it�s real.

�James. Free bus ride. Come up. Where you heading?� I didn�t know he knows my name.

�Columbia University. Thanks!�

I was heading to my usual seat when I noticed someone is already sitting there.
She�s probably reading the
vandalisms Ann, Stan and I wrote long ago. I sat in front of her.
�I wonder what Ann is like.� She said aloud more probably to herself.

�She�s great.� I answered nonetheless.

�I figured.� I looked at her and she�s still reading our handwritings. I sat beside
her. It seems wrong
sitting with another girl in our spot.

�I�m guessing you are either James or Stan.� She said smiling at me.
�James.� I said extending my hand.
�Jane.� She answered as she shook my hand.
For a while no one spoke, the bus stopped and someone got in. I don�t know who she
was but she seems

thrilled to have a free ride.

�How are you related to her?�

�She�s my sister.�

Her eyes widened and she suddenly took my hand. �I�ve been looking everywhere for
her.�
�Can you take me to her now? Please?�

�Why?�
�I�m Sierra�s sister. Your sister saved my sister�s life.�

�But she�s dead.�

�Yes, my sister died. But still Ann gave her something we couldn�t give her. And I
want to
personally thank her while I�m here.�

�No. I mean� Ann died one year ago.�

We ended up in Ann�s graveyard, Jane insisted that we go. I was explaining to her
that I need to tour my
new school since I�ll be attending tomorrow but she insisted that it�s the least
thing she can do for Ann.

�How did she die?� she said as her eyes mist as if she knew Ann all her life.

�I don�t mean to be rude but I don�t feel like talking about it.�

She didn�t answer. My feet are itching to go; I can�t stand being here anymore. The
more I stay the more I
want to get home and read her diary. Only to find out that she hasn�t said a word
to me.

�If your sister dies, does that mean you have to stop being her brother?�

I didn�t answer; instead I rushed home and went straight to Ann�s room.
Ann�s Sixth letter is for my mom. I remember Jane telling me something about
waiting for Ann to say

goodbye, that it�s obviously hard to say goodbye to someone she cares about. Seeing
my mom�s name on
the sixth Sunday made my heart break into thousands of pieces.
That night after dinner while mom is washing the dishes I sat by the counter
looking directly at her back.

Sixth Sunday. I announced, clearing my throat, my mom�s back stiffened but she
continued
washing the dishes her back still facing me.
Quote

Mom,

Hi mom. I don�t know where to start. Just writing the word mom makes everything in
this page
blotted. Guess what mom, I�m trying to be brave, just this night they injected so
many medications in
my system I feel like asking the nurses to just kill me instead. You know like
lethal injection. But then
I think of you and dad and James, and I know how disappointed you will all be with
my lack of
determination so instead of crying like a baby and wishing I was dead I chose to
write instead. See
that rhymes. XD

Mom. I�m sorry for the times that I�ve hurt you; I swear I can�t even count how
many those times
were. Sorry when I broke your favorite vase and lied about it (yes, it wasn�t
James. I purposely broke
it and blamed James because you won�t allow me to go to some party.) see how
immature I was then?
I�m sorry for burning your favorite top just because I was pissed coz you won�t but
me new flats. I�m
sorry for adding too much salt in your coffee because you yelled at me so early in
the morning.

I�m guessing that instead of tearing up as you read this you�re laughing. You
probably feel sorry for
James for constantly blaming him. He�s the good guy mom, I�m the villain. XD

Do you remember the time when you�re taking me to kindergarten? Well I don�t. haha
I only
remembered it coz I saw this picture of us, me crying my eyes out not letting go of
your hand and you
hushing me up saying it�s (probably) that it�s time to go to school. I am thinking,
that�s probably the
first and last time I held your hand. I wished it lasted longer.

You know that I love you mom, no daughter, no matter how parents treat them, would
ever hate
their parents. They probably think they do, but that�s how teenagers nowadays act
just for the sake of
being branded as cool. Some teenagers are stupid mom, I was too. But something will
change them,
and guess what, it was cancer that changed me.

I hear you crying all the time when you thought I was asleep in the hospital. You
blame God for
everything that�s been happening. Don�t blame Him mom, you should thank Him
instead, because if
it hadn�t been for Him I will still be this crazy b1tch that I was and probably
still am. XD

If after the operation and things hasn�t gone smoothly do whatever you want. Cry if
you must. Be mad.
Swear. Curse God. But you should learn how to move on mom, it probably is the end
for me but that
doesn�t mean it�s the end for you too. And when you realize that my love didn�t die
with my body
you�ll learn to trust God again, because no matter how bad I was, I know He will
still lead me to His
home.

You should be strong mom. Dad and James needs you. If you sulk all the time then
who�s going to
feed them? All they can manage is burnt toast. XD
Love to infinity,
Your little girl
After I read the letter aloud I felt relieved that I didn�t choke to tears. But
what surprised me most is when
I�m reading it I was smiling and I know, even if my mom is still not facing me,
she�s smiling too.

I placed the diary at the kitchen table and left. Jane�s question still in my head,
�If your sister dies,
does that mean you have to stop being his brother?�

The next morning I woke up extra early so I can visit Ann�s grave. I saw Jane
standing there, her bags
resting behind the tree.

�I just came to say goodbye. I�m sorry for what I said yesterday.�

�You were right.�

�I know. I�m always right.�

�But that doesn�t mean I still accept everything that happened to her.�

�You will soon.�

�I just want to thank you, for making me realize things I tried so hard to push
aside.�

�You will forever be Ann�s brother James don�t for get that.� She then looked at
her watch and
sighed. �My plane is leaving any minute now I should go.�

�Take care.�

�You too.� She gathered her bags and walked away.

�Oh by the way, your mom asked me to carve something below Ann�s name. Anything I
want to write. She learned I�m an artist.�

And with that she�s gone.

I looked down on Ann�s Grave and I saw what she said.
Ann Sylvia Llanza
Her birth date and death date was erased and is now replaced by a beautiful
handwriting. And I have to

thank her forever because what she wrote somehow took some of my burdens away.

You will forever be in our hearts.

Seventh Sunday

Stan

Not all words fit to their meanings.

Sometimes what is said is not what is meant
And what is meant
Is left unsaid.

-tumblr

�Stan! Stan! Guy with a weird green shirt! Wait up!� I sighed; ever since I met
Louise she
wouldn�t live me alone. I met Louise a few days after Ann died, she called me �guy
with a weird green
shirt� and she still calls me that even if I am not wearing green.

I�m now in college and for a weird reason I took up BS Biology, James did the same.
And when we saw
each other during first period I know, even without speaking, we both did it
because of Ann.

Louise caught up and smiled in front of me. �Want to have lunch?�

�Actually I�m meeting up with my friends.�

Her smile vanished, �Oh. Okay.�

�Stan!� I turned around to see Aya walking towards me. If you should know anything
about Aya, it�s only
that she�s taking up Law. It surprised us alright since her biggest obsession was
Calculus, but I think it�s
bearable hearing her talk about Math than having her constantly talking, almost
breathing about Republic
Acts.

�Where�s Lee?�

�Still in class. Hi!� she said stretching her hand to Louise, �I believe we haven�t
met yet. I�m Aya
Stan�s friend.�

�Hi. I�m Louise.� Louise then turned to me and smiled �I�d better get going.� and
then walked away.

�You didn�t tell me you�re dating someone.� Aya said raising her eyebrows.
�I�m not.�

�Yeah right, I see the way she looks at you.�

I just sighed.

�It�s time to move on Stan; Ann would�ve wanted it that way.�

I know Aya meant well but what she said hits home. And I don�t think she has the
right to say that friends
or not.

�You want to know Aya? You really want to know? Every day I wake up pretending that
I�ll
be seeing Ann. Every fvcking day I deluded myself that I�ll hear her voice. And
guess what,
it gets me by. But the moment that I have to wake up and realize that it�s not
true. The
moment I wake up to finally realize that she died then I die with her.�

My voice rang the whole corridor mere by passers just stood and fell silent when
they heard my outburst.

Pity surrounds the walls of the corridor and it didn�t lessen the burden of having
to say that aloud. I
walked out and didn�t attend classes for the rest of the day.

�Stan I��

�You know what I�m sorry. Just tell James to text me.� and then I left all eyes
were on me but I
didn�t care. They don�t know� they don�t have the slightest idea about how I feel.

Ann�s resting place became my sanctuary. My mom finally gave in and agreed to let
me stay in her house.
Would you believe a mom will do that? Normal moms would�ve begged their sons to
stay with them and to
not live a life astray. But my mom isn�t normal. Normal is not something that runs
in my blood.

�I can�t believe you bailed on us.� It has been my habit complaining to Ann�s
gravestone ever since
she died. I think it�s much straightforward this way than having to complain to
some unknown higher
power you haven�t even seen.

�There we were supporting you throughout your sickness and poof you just bailed
without
even having that damned surgery!� I wish for her to answer back, to reply, and to
say something out
of nowhere. Even if it�s just my mind talking, imitating her voice, imitating how
she speak. I want to have
that slight assurance that she�s still with us. But I hear nothing, the whole park
is buzzing close to insanity
but I heard nothing that resembles Ann, it was like hearing silence in the midst of
chaos.

�I know you�d be here.�

Louise sat beside me and just stared at Ann�s grave as if they knew each other
since kindergarten. We
didn�t speak and surprisingly enough the awkward silence doesn�t even seem awkward
and strange at all.

�I see you here often.� She said smiling but not exactly looking at me, funny
enough, it was as if she�s
talking to the sycamore tree.

�Yeah, since it�s planted there and obviously trees, even sycamores, cannot walk.�
I
answered hoping that my sarcasm will help for her to live.

�Ahhh. The joys of being sarcastically gifted.� She didn�t even budge. �It helps to
talk to
someone you know. It helps you through.�

�You don�t know what I�ve been going through.� I said icily enough just to make her
smirk and
laugh sarcastically.

�Losing the closest person you have in your life because she killed herself. Yes. I
think I
don�t have enough experience to know what you�re going through.�

I can�t find my voice to answer. All the spiteful comebacks I tried to formulate in
my brain just so she
would leave me alone vanished and are replaced by thoughts of wanting to say sorry.
But I am too
ashamed of myself to even speak.

�I just wanted to let you know that you�re not alone Stan. When my sister died no
one even
hugged me, I felt so alone. I don�t want anybody experience that but I guess you�re
strong
enough to handle it your own.�

Before I knew it she�s gone. And the more I convinced myself that she�s wrong the
more painful it gets. I
didn�t need further explanations, the hurting itself proves, that what she said is
indeed true.

I decided to visit Ann�s room after that, hoping that maybe I can find something
she left me. When I
reached her house nobody was home. I was hoping against all hopes that Ann�s house
keys are still where
she�s hiding them. Luckily enough they�re still there.
I scrambled through the keys and went straight to Ann�s room. The first thing I
noticed were the lights I
worked on so hard just to get them up the ceiling. It was the first time that Ann
got to appreciate the stars.

I sat on her bed and smiled at the frames holding Ann�s pictures. One with James
and her. And one with
me, her and James. All our smiles were real because oddly enough all were stolen
pictures taken by her
dad.

Besides her pillow was Ann�s diary on which she wrote �14 Sundays� my heart skipped
a beat and started
beating rapidly all of a sudden. My hands are shaking when I held it in my hands. I
decided to open it and
read the Seventh Sunday. Since it was in the seventh day of September that I
started giving her the
reasons.

In her always neat writing she wrote Seventh Sunday. Differently than most of the
Sundays. I
remembered mine was just written in curves, this time Ann wrote it in printed
hearts as if directly saying,
that it�s meant for me.

Going through all this goodbye stuff is hard. I�ve already written to almost
everyone who has been a
part of my life. I think I have to lay low on that for a while and write this
Sunday about something
relevant and fun.

You (James, Stan, Mom whoever reads this) probably doesn�t have the slightest clue
why I write only
on Sundays. First off the reason why I chose to write on a Sunday is because I was
born on a Sunday.
It was on a Sunday that I knew I had cancer. It was on a Sunday that I found the
video that started 101
Reasons. And it was also on a Sunday that I am chemo free meaning lesser barfs on a
Sunday.

Why 14? Because the first time I wrote on it was exactly 14 Sundays away from
February 8, my
expected surgery.

Ok that�s boring. Now the main point. This Sunday I would like to stress on the
signs that will lead
you straight to the girl meant for my two favorite boys. Stan and James. Reasons
why I�m doing this
are; first, because we all know how James can be so stupid and na�ve and
insensitive and foolish and
dense about a girl�s feeling. If you don�t agree James I have Cassidy to prove
that. Second, I know
Stan, and when things turned out the way we didn�t plan, he�ll just sulk and die
single. (hahaha)

7 Signs

1. If she always follows you around like a lost puppy, concerned to hell about you,
rushes wherever
you are just because your nail died and do whatever it takes just to comfort you
then run away from
her she�s a stalker. (kidding) really, if a girl does that then she�s a keeper,
you�ll go straight to hell if
you ignore someone like that.
2. Loves the same music that you love. Enough said. (Who would want to go on a
concert alone?)
3. If she believes in 11:11, birthday candles, eyelashes, and all that lame made up
stories where you
can wish and all she wishes for is you then be with her. No one would ever waste
their wishes if it
doesn�t mean so much for them.
4. If she�s way more sarcastic than you. .
5. If she�s b1tchy, snob, plastic and throws a fit like I do then stay far, far
away from her. But if she
has a sensitive heart when needed (like me) then Stan she�s exactly who you�re
looking for. (PS if the
girl that you�re dating now asks you to treat her like a princess then ditch her
right away. You don�t
go out with her just so you can open the door for her, or she can let you hold her
bag while she shop,
or she can boss you around. You should find someone who wants to be treated as an
equal. YOU
ONLY TREAT A GIRL LIKE A PRINCESS IF SHE�S A LEGIT PRINCESS.)
6. If she watched, read and breathe harry potter ever since JK Rowling started
publishing it then
you should know that she�s smart enough to have such taste. I don�t have enough
reasoning why this
number is a sign but harry potter is my bible. Anyone who reads it is worth
keeping.
7. If she forgives you no matter what you do. And if she still loves you despite
all your flaws never let
her go.
If anything else I just want you guys to know that it�s always okay to love. Yes
I�m allowing myself to
be this sappy. You are capable of loving and you to deserve to be loved in return.
When love finds you
don�t run away from it, accept it at all cost because when it finds you it only
means that it is meant for
you. You are meant to be happy.
Leaving doesn�t always mean pain, somehow when you look at it, it also means hope.
Hope that one
day throughout this loneliness you�ll find your way out and learn to accept that
things don�t always go
the way you want it to.
Live your life guys. I did. I loved. I�ve been loved in return. I experienced pain,
joy, embarrassment,
rejection, anger, disappointment everything. I cried. I laughed. I smiled. I
giggled. You need to
experience everything (even the ones that hurt) in order to live.
And you should start living life again by loving guys. It is the first and only
step you have to take in
order to move on and let go.
Pretty as always,
Ann
I don�t know anything about signs but I have this certain feeling that this one is
it. I placed the diary
exactly where I got it and reached for the jar containing Ann�s reasons from her
dresser.

It was almost dark when I reached the park. And when I reached Ann�s favorite bench
I saw someone
sitting. The way her hair blew with the wind was exactly how Ann looked like when I
secretly watched her
sitting there before. Her gaze fixed on one person to another exactly how Ann
looked at someone and
secretly making up stories about them. I inched closer and closer, and the more I
can see her, the more I
am certain that the one sitting at the bench is Ann.

And then finally she turned around, her eyes searched mine. And I smiled. The jar
still in my
hands. �You�re right. I do need someone�

�I know.�

�But I need to talk to her first.�

Her smile was her response. And after that I rushed to Ann�s graveyard and sat
beside it. I placed the jar
above her gravestone and counted the remaining reasons.

Reason # 91: You give me hope. Live for me.

�Let�s finish what we started Ann,

We have 8 reasons left.�

Eighth Sunday
James
That it�s gonna be okay (.... ... .)
That it�s gonna be over right away(... .... .)
That as time goes by, it�s gonna fade away(... ... ... ...)
I�ve been living with that belief (... .. . .....)
-Lee Donghae (...); Just Like Now (....)
Eight Sunday: To the bravest man I have ever known.
Dad,
It might sound silly and you wouldn�t even think that it�s possible but ever since
I was old enough to
understand, I�ve always considered myself as daddy�s little girl. weird right?
Since I never obeyed you,
not even once.
I know you�re not the man of many words, perhaps that�s one good thing I got from
you. But I do
hope that once we get through this you�ll try hard to speak the words that are
meant to be heard. And
I promise to do the same.
Thank you dad for everything. You�ve been my hero when I�m weak, the only man
standing beside me
helping me out when chemo has already taken its toll and both James and mom cannot
bear to
witness everything.
This letter may seem short dad but I know for both of us it has already said a
thousand words. I love
you. And screw what other kids say, YOU ARE THE GREATEST DAD IN THE WORLD.
Forever your little girl,
Ann
Ann�s letter to my dad was short yet when he read it, it was as if he had read a
whole book rather than half
a page of a letter.
�I always admire Ann�s unique way of telling your mistakes.� He said laughing.
That was the most ironic thing I�ve heard. When Ann tells you you�re wrong, she
makes sure you feel like
an idiot afterwards. It�s as if you�ve done something beyond belief. I�d rather my
mom reprimand me than
her constantly reminding me about my flaws.

�How�s school?� he said while taking a sip of his coffee and tucking Ann�s letter
in his pocket. He asked
if he can tear it out off the page, since nothing else was written behind the paper
I gave it to him. But he
never knew that Ann drew small broken lines that said tear here, it was as if she
knows that dad will ask
me to keep it.

�Fine. Stan and I are classmates and groupmates at the same time. We�ll be going to
the
hospital a later on to see our future working environment.�

�I�m proud of you son. Ann would have been so proud.�

After that I left. Oftentimes the school bus driver back when we were in high
school stops and drops me
along the way. Today he only beeped his horn at me waving apologetically that the
bus is full. I was
relieved that he did, going to that bus and seeing everything that reminds me of
Ann is torture enough.

When I arrived at school Stan is standing at the front gate looking left and right
as if searching for
someone. I was about to approach him when a girl gave him a bottled water and some
snack, he just
smiled. Soon after the girl walked away I walked towards him.

�You�re having the look!� I said nudging his elbows.

�What look?�

�You know when I told you to stay far away from Ann?�

�Yeah! But I didn�t.�

�You had no idea then that you already like her. But I do know because of that
look.�

�What look? You�re creeping me out!�

�You know the eye to eye contact when you�re talking and the lingering looks when
she
walks away.�

�I�m just reading that�. That sign!� he answered pointing vaguely somewhere but
sure enough he�s
just denying the fact that he is falling in love whoever that girl is.

�What? You�re reading �Photography for Dummies?� What�s her name?�

�Louise.�

�She�s pretty.�

�She�s not Ann.�

We stood there for awhile, waiting for our other group mates to arrive. And somehow
what he said made
us both feel that though we try hard to accept things, there are certain situations
that cannot be ignored.

�I read Seventh Sunday.�

�What about it?�

�Don�t act as if you don�t know. I saw you rushing back carrying her jar of reasons
leaving
the notebook propped open in her bed.�

�I don�t know man, there are times when I feel that I should move on but then I
dream
about her and I feel guilty.�

�Maybe it�s time we both learn how to step forward and see what�s ahead of us.�

At one point there we just looked at each other and started to laugh like crazy.

�Dude! HAHAHAHA You should�ve seen your face! For a moment there I thought I was
talking to Lee. Metal Rock on the outside but emo straight down to the core.�

We laughed again. And with that we both know that we agreed on something. We will
try hard to accept
things. No, not let go just like what Ann said. We�re not letting her go. We�re
just going to accept things
and live with it.

And then finally our group mates arrived. We all took the school van and went to
the hospital. It was the
same hospital that Ann was in. at first I was hesitant to walk in but then I know
that I�m with Stan,, and if
ever things doesn�t go smoothly he can always ask a nurse to inject me some
depressant.
When we reached the hallway to the operating room I can�t move, every inch of my
muscle froze and for a
moment there I could�ve sworn I saw myself wheeling Ann to the operating room,
holding her hand and
then suddenly her hand slipped mine.

�Dude, you okay?�

Then reality started to creep back in. and then I noticed that I dropped my phone
on the floor. When I
reached down to pull it someone also bent down to pick it up when I raised my head
to see who that
person is I smiled.

Everything will be ok, that�s what they told me, and if it is not ok then it
obviously isn�t the end.

When our hands touched I know that if two people are meant to be together they will
meet no matter
what.

We both stood up both of us still holding my phone. And I know that it is about
time that we start and
make things right again.

�We�re doing ok Ann.� I said in my head �We�re getting there. Slow but moving. And
if this is
your way of saying that you�re still with us and looking after us, thank you. I
won�t screw
it up again.�

�We meet again Miss Cassidy Francisco.�

Ninth Sunday

James

"A photograph can be an instant of life

captured for eternity
that will never cease looking back at you."

�Brigitte Bardot (from untamed77_angel's Love and Other Words Video)

Little by little I�ve been kind of getting used by Ann�s absence. No one gets to
catch me doing hard core
dances anymore, not that I still do that. No one is bugging me to drive and
accompany her to parties. No
one is stealing my scraps of money just so she can buy new clothes. As much as I am
relieved that none of
my things are missing the more I get the feeling of emptiness. Ann will never ever
return no matter how
hard I pray for it.

Today happens to be my birthday. Last year I celebrated it with Ann. Her gift? A
Polaroid camera. At first
I was really touched that she saved up money just to buy me one. But then I noticed
that half of my
savings for a new electric guitar was gone missing. At first I thought I only
misplaced it until I realized
how Ann managed to save for something like a camera. And that�s when I knew that
the only money she
spent was her fare to and from the shopping center.

Ever since Ann died I kept the camera in a box filled with photos I�ve taken from
it. It was the only thing
Ann left me. And I can�t simply bare to look at it.

I saw the box peeking under my bed and I thought it silly that I�ve been hiding
from it for more than a
year. I took it out, my hands trembling and when I opened it was the same as I�ve
hidden more than a year
ago.

What do you expect James? For some magical reasons after you opened it Ann will
climb out of the box
like some horror film instead of a drama?

But she did, because that box mostly contains pictures of her. Ann but in Polaroid
print version.

I remember the very same day when Ann gave it to me. it was as if the camera taped
everything and every
time I look at it I can clearly see everything.

�Time to open mine!� she said her face suddenly lit up as if hers will be the most
beautiful one.

I look at Aya whose gift was a � I think you can probably guess what it was. Nope
not a calculus book. A
Biology one. Which I find useful since I am talking a medical course. Stan�s gift
was a shirt, it was plain
black in front but in the back there�s a humongous print that says �Rocking the
world since �88� and I
found out he was wearing the same thing too.

When every time that he asks me to wear it so we can wear it together during PE, I
almost always find a
way to save an excuse. The Dude didn�t know until Ann told him one night when we
both accidentally
wore the same thing, �So you two are couples now? you should have a couple ring
too.�

There are probably too many stories within a story that I tend to veer away from
the main one. But going
back, I remember Ann holding the box excitedly.

When I reached for it I thought it was just something of my own (well, technically
it really was) but when I
opened it I know I liked it more than a guitar. But I didn�t let her know at first.

�A Polaroid?�

�Cut it out James! I saw your phone, if there�s anything else to know it�s that
your memory
card is almost full because of pictures of plenty of flowers and some close ups of
unknown
females who by looking at it thoroughly are Mom, Cassidy and me.�

I was mad that she�s been going through my phone but she�s Ann. That�s her ways,
and it would be really
peculiar if she hasn�t done something that pisses me off.

There were times when I wished that Ann will just leave my things alone. Wished I
will wake up one day
without a single thing of my possessions has gone missing. Only to wake up every
morning having to take
that wish back. Wanting that when I wake up all my drawers are ajar and clothes are
stashed out from it.
But no, wishes cannot be undone.

�Can you believe it; I�m saying mushy things on my birthday.� I said to myself, but
partly to Ann
if ever she�s here listening.

I smiled, I took out the pictures I took from it and realized how much I used it
over the year. There were
pictures of Stan concentrating hard on his Math, Aya and Lee fighting and lots of
Ann�s. Sleeping, writing,
daydreaming, eating, reading� everything. If there�s one thing that can prove that
I love my sister (when
she still wasn�t sick) it will be those pictures of how much I took of her. It was
as if I was making her
eternal. Sounds silly but I was glad I took them, it makes me want to remember her.

That day there was no party like the usual, but like the usual my mom baked a cake
and my dad bought
me a CD. It was a ritual to celebrate things like this even if one of the members
of the ritual is gone.

When I ate mom�s cake and played half the tracks of dad�s gift I told them I will
go straight to Ann. They
said yes.

I brought Ann�s journal with me, and it�s funny that in the Ninth Sunday she wrote
the same thing. She
wrote the same thing about my birthday last year only to find out something more
about her.

Ninth Sunday.

Little by little I know deep down that I�m fighting a losing battle. I don�t deny
that, but my being
strong hasn�t got anything to do with me giving myself false hopes. No my being
strong is for my
family and friends they need to know that I�m fighting. But I need to prepare
myself too.

It was on James� nineteenth birthday that I saw him the happiest and it was because
of my gift to him.
I took it out today without him knowing, don�t worry, he�s used to it.

And I�m glad I bought him the camera. As I took a picture of myself I am almost
unrecognizable
compared to the healthy Ann James photographed a year ago. My hair is thin and some
parts of my
scalp are hairless. My cheeks sag in my face making me look like an 81 year old
lady instead of 18. My
arms are so thin it almost looks like it is going to break when someone holds it.
Little by little I am
starting to disappear.

I try my hardest not to cry. I must accept things. It is not going to be easy but I
must accept things.
Because there might be a time, that James will be spending his birthday without me.
And I will no
longer be a part of the ritual.

It isn�t my death that scares me the most. Although that sounds all too heroine and
brave it is the
truth.

I do not fear my own death.

I fear how James will cope with it when I�m gone.
I don�t want to see him hurt.
I would never want to see him hurt.

It is ironic that what she said is right. We need to accept things. So people think
it�s kind of funny that
every day I reminisce something instead of totally forgetting about it.

No. that�s not how it works for me.

And this is my first step in accepting.

I need to remember that Ann has been a part of me and not some vague dream. She was
once real. And
the only way to accept things is to remember each and every moment I had with her

And then finally accept

That some things aren�t going to happen again.

and that it is ok that they won�t.

Tenth Sunday
Stan
... .. ... .. ... (Even on cold nights, even on lonely nights)
. .. .... .. ... (You were always there for me.)
.. ... (But where are you now?)
- .... (Just Like Now); DongHae ..
�Funny how all of us are gathered here unexpectedly. It�s not even her birthday or
whatever.�Aya said completely baffled at how every one of us was there, sitting
comfortably in Ann�s
sanctuary eating pizza as if we�re kids on a picnic.
It just happened when I arrived both Aya and Lee are already there. A few minutes
later James arrived
holding a giant candle and then Enzo with dozens of flowers in his hands.
�When did you get here?� James asked.
�Just a while ago. I won�t stay long. Gramps is alone in New York and if I�m gone
one
second he�ll eat all the fats and sweets in the world.� He said his voice deeper
and somewhat slow.
He isn�t the scrawny, sickly Enzo I knew back then. No he�s changed. If only Ann
can see him now, I
would�ve gotten myself in a complete love triangle.
�Isn�t this supposed to be weird?� I asked laughing at our situation.
�What is?� Lee said his mouth full of pizza.
�Aww sorry Enz about Lee. He isn�t really used to civilization. There there.� James
said
patting Lee�s head like a lost puppy. �Swallow before you choke first.�
�I know right. Three of Ann�s leading men. In movies girls only have two men. In
Ann�s
case there are four. She�s lucky.� I looked at Aya and saw how hard she tries not
to shed a tear it
almost reminds me of Ann. Maybe it was Ann�s influence you know, how one can act
strong in front of
others and how quick one can break when alone.
�She always gets what she wants. She always had a way of getting us to do things.�
It was
Lee�s turn to speak.

�Who would�ve thought we�re going to be this close to normal again.�

But we�re not normal. We are, in front of complete strangers. But being gathered
like this, being with
those who were with and who knew Ann, no, we�re not normal. We will never be fully
healed. There will
always be that one moment, there will always be that one moment, even how long it
has been there will
always be that one moment when all you want to do is cry.

�I remember how Lee almost lost it when Ann was being buried here. If only Ann saw
it all
she would�ve rolled on the floor laughing.�

�I remember that! I had the urge of pushing him!�

We laughed. Lee didn�t protest. It was nice, to somehow remember that moment with
some random ad
weird funny moments. It was as if Ann doesn�t want us to remember it and cry.

�I know this is insensitive but I took this picture, I don�t know I just knew that
we�ll
somehow get to this point where all our tears had gone dry and the only thing left
to do is to
laugh about it.�

Lee fished his phone from his back pocket, scrolled and laughed the air out of him.
Aya leaned in and she
too is in tears. It was only a picture of me crying. Seriously I�m not even that
bad looking. But when you
had known me it would be fascinating to see me cry since my nostrils flare up and
take the whole of my
face. We all laughed even if it�s not funny, as I�ve said, when all the tears had
ran dry there�s no other thing
to do but to laugh.

�Shoot! I�ll miss my flight in 5 minutes!� Enzo said scrambling to his feet
tripping here and there.

�Good luck with that, the way to the airport is hell in this time of the day. But
hey visit
anytime you can.�

"Promise."

�Fvck! I have a report in Calculus 4! I haven�t done a single thing! On second

thought I can
always do an impromptu.�
Lee, Aya and Enzo all rushed to their respective destinations leaving James and I
alone. Great. I took my
backpack and held out Ann�s journal.

�You brought that?�

�Yeah. Tenth Sunday.�

�I have a really bad feeling that you brought that for a reason.�

I opened the journal to the exact same page I last read last night when I slept in
their house.

�That�s invasion of privacy.�

I looked at him disgusted, �As if dude! You read all our letters. This is our
revenge.�
James looked at me his eyes wide with amazement. �She wrote me one?� he said like a
child

�Of course. What made you think that she wouldn�t?� he just shrugged.

�Should I read it?�

�Go ahead.�

Tenth Sunday.

I know you're waiting for your letter James. You probably will shake your head no,
but we both know
the truth. I think now is the time. Here is my five-part letter to you.
I closed the journal for awhile and looked at James.

"Are you ready?"

And in a mere whisper he replied,

"She knows I am."

�I think you should read it on your own.�

I placed the journal propped open in his lap. He didn�t look at it, he�s still
probably gathering enough
courage. But I left and promised him that I�ll be back after a few minutes.

When I am a few steps away from James I looked back. His head now bent in Ann�s
journal. His fingers
caressed the pages as if it were Ann�s lovely face. I cringed just by looking at
how James tries had just to
forget. James� letter were five Sundays long. I read all of it.

It�s the saddest thing I�ve read in my life. But I�ll only share the first part. It
is James who will tell the rest.

James,

I don't know what I'm thinking. Writing a letter this long when Mom and Dad's
letter are just half
pages. I guess this is what you do, you know, when there is a chance that you can
no longer be with
someone as important as life.

First off I�d like to say thank you, for constantly being there. When the world has
turn its back on me
you are the only one who held me up and turned my back against the world. I know
right. I just
copied that whole thing from Lion King. Remember how much both of us cried when
Mufasa died?

Which made me really think, if you cried in that how much more if I won�t make it?
The thought of it
hurts me. I swear every night I hear you scream in your dreams, screaming my name,
screaming that
I live for you. I am trying James, trying real hard. But there are times that I
just want to give up. The
pain is too much for me to bear

Lately I haven�t been able to ask how you�re doing. These past few months it has
all been about me.
How are you James? How�s school? How�s the feeling of nearing close to college?
What course will
you take? What are your plans? What would you want to do? Have you ever thought
about your
future? Or has it been that all your life all you worried about was me?

You always ask me how I am, how I�m doing at school, what I want to be when I grow
up, my future
plans. You worried about them as if they were your own. You ask me way too much
that I am not able
to ask you the same.

Thank you for that. You�re probably the only brother who does that even if your
sister is not even
good to you.

And I remember all the time you asked me I haven�t even gave you a serious answer.
Today all
questions that you asked will be answered. All of them. Are you sure you can handle
the truth?

I want to be a doctor James. Funny right? Since I�m not even smart. But I want to
be one. I want to
cure kids like Sierra; I want to cure people who have the same disease as me. Kids
aren�t supposed to
feel these feelings they�re too young to understand, it will be unfair. They
haven�t seen the world yet.
So when I�m all well I�ll study hard and help them.

Well as usual school was hell. It always has been. I�m not the queen bee like you
and Aya and
everyone thought. No. I was being bullied. Especially the time when all of them
found out I had
cancer. All people are saying things behind my back; they keep on judging me as if
they know me.
School is hell. Most people are hell. And I wish that one day they�ll walk in my
shoes just for them to
know how it feels like. How it feels like to wake up every morning having to worry
if this will be your
last. But I try my hardest not to listen to them. Because I know the more they say
about me, the more
they define themselves. Those pathetic b1tches, they talk as if they knew what
they�re talking about.
They don�t have half of the awesomeness that I have.

I don�t have plans. Plans don�t usually work the way you want. If things happen
then I accept that
they happen, if they don�t then I try something else. Less heartbreak and
disappointments. Only
those who don�t dream have plans.

Remember when you asked me if I still want to fight? You know? The time when they
shot me some
pain killers that I almost feel like they�re killing me? Remember when I nodded
yes? I lied. I can�t
take it anymore James. It hurts. It hurts so much even breathing is a pain.

I can�t take it anymore James.

I can�t.
It hurts.
I don�t want to feel it again. And you know what I realized? I realized that it's
ok to give up if you

know you've done everything and it still hurts then it's time to give up and let go
and move on to
whatever plans God has for you.
I want to give up James.
I am giving up.
Eleventh Sunday

James

�You are going to lose people in your life.

And I realize that no matter how much time you spent with them,
or how much you appreciated them and told them so,
it will never seem like it was enough.�

-Tumblr

After reading Ann�s letter, first part, I couldn�t speak. All words had gone
missing. I waited for this but
now reading it seems so unreal. It was almost dawn when I found enough courage to
go straight to Ann�s
room and read the rest of her letter.

I reached for the journal under her pillow where I kept it after reading the first
part. Where she always
kept it as if we didn�t know that it�s her hiding place.

Eleventh Sunday.

James,

I wish that when you're reading this I am right beside you laughing at my horrible
mushiness. Joking
about me being too much sensitive, almost nearing vomit-inducing. I wish that when
you're reading
this letter it is tears of laughter rolling down your face. Because believe me,
that's the only wish that
kept me going.

But if not I hope than when you read this you�ll try your hardest not to cry. I
will try my hardest not to
cry too.

This Sunday I was hooked to my morphine drip the whole day, no visitors are allowed
in my room not
even family. My immune system went to a hundred down to zero a single bacteria can
kill me.
The nurses who come to my room look like astronauts wandering in space I couldn�t
even see their
faces. They�re not even talking. I am locked in a room where people aren�t supposed
to go until
they�re asked to. Where people aren�t allowed to stay or visit whenever they want.
I am alone. With
no one to talk to. With no one to even look at. It is as if I was exiled. It�s the
loneliest and saddest day
of my life.

I forgot to tell you, I�m not hurting anymore. Nothing. This morphine drip is
awesome. Later today
though the nurse in charge forgot to refill the drip and I thought I was going to
die because of pain.
They injected me some sleeping drugs and I heard the doctor scream at the nurse.

I wanted to tell them that it isn�t her fault; I am not the only patient she�s
taking care of. But the drug
must have been seeping through my veins because I can�t even find my voice to
speak. When I woke
up it was already 12 in the midnight.

Do you remember when we were little and I used to knock on your door because I had
a nightmare?
And I�d sleep beside you but you say you�ll just sleep on the floor because you�re
old enough to sleep
besides a girl even if she�s your sister and even if you�re only 9? Remember when
you wake up and
find me lying beside you on the floor and you�d carry me back to your bed
struggling because you
weren�t strong enough? All those times when you find me lying beside you, you
always thought that I
fell out of the bed. I didn�t. I never did.

It is already 1 in the morning and I had the urge of going home and knocking to
your room and having
to sleep beside you on the floor again. Day and night I�m having nightmares. I�m
having them even if I
know I am wide awake.

I talked to dad about not going to the hospital anymore. He didn�t like it I know
but he swallowed
hard his disappointment and said it is my choice. Mom was hysterical when she found
out. You must
have been too. But we didn�t tell you.

If my immune system stabilizes I�ll be out of here in no time. I will not undergo
the operation
anymore. I�d like to live but I�m tired of feeling like a rotting vegetable every
day. I hope you forgive
me James. Or at the very least I hope you understand.

I already accepted what may happen to me. And I already welcome death as if I was
welcoming life. I
learned to accept that life isn�t fair and that it is my choice to mind or just
shrug it off and continue
living. I don�t want to live the rest of my life and be a prisoner of life�s unfair
realities. I want to live
my dreams. I want to explore the world. Any my having cancer will not stop that.
Even if you think it
is insane.
TODAY IS MONDAY.

The doctor allowed mom and dad to enter my room. You were in school. My WBC shoot
right back
close to normal. I can have visitors again. And here�s the thing you didn�t know. I
checked out of the
hospital. After months of being in the hospital I went home.

I went straight to your room, my knees wobbling with every step. Cursing under my
breath because
of too much pain. But when I opened your room with a feigned smile painted across
my face you
weren�t there. I almost crawled to your desk and then I found what you�re reading.

Biology. Anatomy. Physiology. Pathology. And some books I don't even know how to
pronounce.

And when I looked at your corkboard pinned in your wall all pictures of your
favorite bands and our
pictures we�re ripped out of it and was replaced by: �I WILL FIND A CURE FOR
CANCER. I WILL
SAVE ANN.�And that very moment I told mom and dad that I wanted to give it a try
until the
operation. They breathed a sigh of relief. You will find a cure. You will save me.

You always give me hope.

I placed the journal back to her pillow and felt sleep starting to creep to my
brain.

And then I saw Ann, sitting in one corner of the hospital room. Vomiting like
there�s no tomorrow.
Screaming her lungs out because of pain. Her face was unrecognizable. Her eyes
we�re black and her skin
was so pale. Her eyes wet with heavy tears and she�s calling for my name.

�James.� She reached out her thin hands and I held it. Held it hard that I hear her
bones creak.

�Ssshhh. Everything will be alright. I�m here. Everything will be alright.� I

reached forward to
hug her but she leaned far from me.

And with sad and almost angry tone she said.

�James, why didn't you save me?�

Twelfth Sunday

You could be happy and I won't know

But you weren't happy the day I watched you go

-You Could be Happy, Snow Patrol

James

It was only a dream. I told myself over and over again. It was only a dream. I
repeated it and at one point
there it seems like I believed in it. But her distant voice asking why I didn�t
save her rang constant in my
mind that all I ever did was cup my hands in my ears and drowned myself in tears.

I hurried back to the page where I left, hoping that her next letter would be
something that can soothe me.
hoping that what she wrote next would be something like saying thank you. I leafed
through the pages
roughly the pages almost tearing out of the journal.

Twelfth Sunday.

James,

It hurts. Every part of me hurts. It hurts when I move. It hurts when I eat. It
hurts when I sleep. It
even hurts when I breathe. What do I do?

It hurts so much.

Why does it hurt like this?

Her handwriting was so sloppy I didn�t even recognize it as her own. Her Ts are not
crossed well, her Is
not dotted. Every parts of this letter seem wrong. It is too sloppy. Too sloppy
that I can almost imagine her
writing it. Writing so hard so she can write me a letter.

They didn�t tell me it�s going to feel like this.

James. Where are you? Mom said you left the house early in the morning because you
can�t take it
anymore. I hope you come back soon.

It hurts so much.

I want to die.

And then every moment I had with her just played nonstop in my mind. How she
tiptoed in my room and
set the alarm clock disabling the snooze button and then positions it near my ear.
How she instantly pop
into my room whenever I do my rock star moves. How she steal my cereal. How we both
wait for the bus
talking about anything and laughing about almost everything.

Everything that happened was once clear in my head. And thinking that none of it
will ever happen again
make it seem like all are just a dream. That Ann isn�t real. That I had just woken
up into some vague
dream and I will never see her again.

I can hear her voice whispering in my ear asking why no one told her how much of it
hurts. I can hear her
voice asking me nonstop as if I was the one who betrayed her.

I wasn�t there when she�s hurting the most. I was out. Alone. Complaining because
all that�s happening is
too much for me to handle. I never even thought about Ann. I didn�t even thought
that what�s happening
to her is much worst. I�ve been selfish.

I wasn�t there when she needed me most.

I called out for her name but she wouldn�t answer. It was nearing sunrise yet all I
ever did was cry. I was
so close to accepting. So close that I almost fooled myself. How can I forget
someone whose voice is
already recorded in my head, whose face is already printed at the back of my eyes,
whose heart is already a
part of mine? How can someone accept the fact that the most important person in
their lives died without
having enough chances of living?

How can life be so unfair?

I searched for the knife that she keeps in her drawer for safety purposes and
breathed a sigh of relief that
it was still there. Wait for me Ann, I�ll come for you.

I traced the knife down to my veins, expertly, like dissecting my own arm. I didn�t
feel any pain. Drats. It
would�ve been better if I die with the same pain that she suffered.

I reached for the bottle of Tylenol lying untouched in Ann�s dresser. I took the
whole bottle. And slowly I
felt the whole world collapsing on me.

So this is how it feels like�.

Dying.
Thirteenth Sunday

"There's some illogical part of me that still believes

if you want Superman to show up,
first there's got to be someone worth saving."

� Jodi Picoult
James

�James?�

I tried to open my eyes but it is heavy. I am too tired to even move then. Too weak
to even speak. Where
am I?

�Read it again.�

Thirteenth Sunday.

James,
I love you. I know, it sounds weird but it�s platonic. HAHAHA kidding!
You are the best brother in the whole wide world. I will never, as in ever,
exchange you for anything.
But thinking about it I guess a million dollars might shake my loyalty a little.
Omigash! Now I�m
thinking about it. The million dollars cash weighed much more compared to you. XD
When I�m gone be sure to take care of mom and dad for me. I dreamed about Sierra
last night, she
was asking if I am ready. I told her I have to finish this first. She said she�ll
plead to God about it.
Waking up this morning must have been the sign that God permitted my last request.
And then I wondered again how it will feel like. I�ll bet you anything you�re going
to do something
horrendous just so you can have a taste of heaven. I tell you, your time will come.
Just like when you
were born. Everything is planned. Everything has been planned.

Please be there for Aya when she needs you. You know denial can get her when
something happens. I
tell you she�ll go nuts without me. It�s not that Lee won�t protect her, it�s just
that one night when all
of you were asleep and she thought I was too, she whispered something. She said she
reminds me of
you. I almost slapped her because it just means that I look like a freaking guy but
then she added
something that made me control my temper. She said we were so alike it was as if
our hearts are one.
TELL HER I HEARD HER SAY THAT AND IT IS REALLY, EXTREMELY SAPPY.

Please accept Lee in our group. Don�t be hard on him too much. He once owned my
heart too. And
don�t tell Stan this but Lee will always have a special place in my heart. Don�t !
@#$ him off a lot. He is
just a boy. HAHAHA

Encourage Stan to find someone else. He will need someone. He will need someone
other than you
guys. Tell him that I�m okay with it. If he is hard headed enough, tell him that
the moment I die is the
moment I am breaking up with him. I finished your 101 reasons. I guess it�s what
gets me by.

Don�t forget to e-mail or call Lorenzo once in a while. He had been my sanctuary in
times when I
needed someone random most. And I�d willingly give him my heart if ever things
don�t turn out
wrong. But the doctor said those who have cancer cannot donate organs.

You will be fine James. I know you. You are going to be alright. Next Sunday will
be my operation day.
I�m happy and scared. Hold me ok? When they will wheel me to the Operating Room
hold my hand
and say things that will make the hurting less.

I love you James.

I will never leave you.

In case you�ll need me. I�ll be right here.

Wherever you are, that�s where I am.

Ann <3
I opened my eyes and I heard everyone scramble to their feet.
�MORON!� from the hard slapping I feel that it is Stan. They are all here to see
me.

�Le sigh! Fvck! I thought you�re going to die.�

Aya spanked Lee and I almost laughed, �Don�t say that!�

�He needs to rest.� Cassidy looked at me and smiled.�Welcome back.�
They all left and I reached for Ann�s letter again. Read it all night not getting
tired of it.
After reading Ann�s letter I smiled and then I drifted into nothingness knowing
that tomorrow when I

wake up I�ll be able to accept things and move on.

And then I saw her.
Her hair falling perfectly down her shoulders, her cheeks aren�t saggy anymore, her
whole face is glowing.

She�s smiling at me.

�Ann?�

She just continued smiling and looking at me.

�How does it feel like Ann?�

She moved a little closer so that I can touch her face. It was as if we both had
woken up from a bad dream
and she didn�t have cancer anymore.

�How does it feels like to be in heaven?�

She smiled, laughed even. �You were right. I can fly.�

�Are they treating you well up there?�

She just smiled.

�Can�t you plead and ask Him to send you back here?�
I was hoping against all hope even if I know it�s impossible.

�I can�t. Are you going to be okay though?�

And this time I smiled genuinely knowing for sure that everything I will say is
true. And I mean it with all
my heart.

�I will be.�
Fourteenth Sunday

�You say you should have died instead of me.

But during my time on earth,

people died instead of me, too.

It happens every day."

-Mitch Albom, The Five People You Meet In Heaven

James

Ann didn�t have the time yet alone strength to write me the fifth part. But did you
know that though her
letter was incomplete I felt completely whole after reading it.

So instead of looking at an empty space where Ann had written Fourteenth Sunday. I
took the
pen lying in her desk, as if it is waiting for me. And I wrote her, her fourteenth
Sunday.

April 17, 2011 (You wouldn�t believe this but yeah, today is Sunday)

See this balloon Ann?

I wrote while holding the balloon up in heaven, knowing that she�s peaking through
the clouds looking at
me. Then I tied it back again in my hand. I am in the park, sitting in her favorite
bench.

Remember the time when we lost Bolt and we had to move on with our lives and try
not to think the
day we lost him? Do you remember Bolt? Do you remember how excited you were when
dad bought
him? You were only 5 years old. We spent 5 amazing years with that dog. Do you
remember Bolt Ann?

Do you remember us playing with him? Do you remember me?

It�s been so long since then but I still remember him, the good times. That�s how I
got by I guess. I
tried to let him go while keeping all those memories that meant a lot to me. Those
memories that
made me happy. It worked.

And I guess that�s how it�s going to be with you. But here�s the thing Ann, I don�t
promise you of �nocrying-
at-night� anymore because I know that one way or another, I�ll still remember the
pain. It�s a
part of it. And I can�t promise you that there won�t be times when I will just feel
sad just because.

I am only human Ann. We live by memories. The good times and whether you like it or
not, the bad.

But here�s what I�ll promise you, as soon as this balloon slip off my hands, I
promise, I�ll live my life
the way it was the time when you�re alive. Who knows, maybe happier?

If you have any objections you can always grab the balloon off my hands and just
take me wherever
you are right now. But you should take Stan, mom and dad, Lee and Aya too.

I really miss you. I miss every bits of you, everything that if ever I write it on
paper I will surely run
out of ink. I know they are treating you well up there.

Mom and dad are fine. They�re getting there. little by little they�re getting
there. And do you know
what? I have a little sister again, Mom and dad adopted her.

Her naughtiness, her laugh and mostly her eyes reminds me of you. She�s beautiful.

Her name is Annie.

I call her Ann.

I am working on something. It will take years but I promise I will have you witness
a miracle. I will
save those who were sick like you. I will Ann. I promise.
I had a dream about you last night. It seemed so real. It felt real.
I�ll see you someday. I�m letting go of the balloon now Ann. But that doesn�t mean
I�m going to forget
you.

You know I never will.

I laughed, and somehow the sudden flash of sunlight beaming through my face feels
like Ann�s laughter. I

feel it warm on my face I can almost see her emerging from the heavens laughing.
And I don�t know if you will believe this or not. But I swear, and I will always
remember and tell it to my
sons and even grandsons.

The moment I let go of the balloon, I swear I saw Ann waving happily at me,
constantly saying that in time,
when God permits,

we will be together

and never be apart ever again.

Epilogue

I felt the cold breeze of the wind caress my face

And for that one moment there I felt that it was you touching my face.

How are you?

How have you been?

It�s been years

I am living well
But there are times when I just remember
I told you didn�t I?

I never promised that I will not cry.

I want you to know that I hear you

I hear your voice
Those nights when I can�t sleep
Those nights when I all I want to do is surrender
I swear I hear your voice

You are my angel

I am doing fine
But fine is an understatement
I am doing so well
I hope you can clearly see me from up there

We�re finally getting our dream,

We are going places Ann.
I am going places.

It�s been years.

How will one know when to move on?
How will one be able to forget?
How is it possible that the moment I swore
That I will never forget
I learned to move on?

Can you hear them calling me Ann?

I made this for you.
You are my inspiration.
You are my hope.

You are my reasons.

You are life.

The International Medicine Confederation and the International Union of Government

Hospitals presents this certificate to:

James Henry S. Llanza

Doctor of Medicine

In recognition of his role in the Union for Doctors 2015 for the invention of the
Pill of Hope: A
Cure for Cancer. We extend our gratitude for modern medicine exploration and for
giving
hope to those who needed it most.

Fin.

It may be hard, but never, ever, lose hope.

�Bianca Salindong