cHePaY

An Autobiography of a Dying Soldier

By: Cherry V. Tubes

            I wonder how I would start my life story. For so many years in my life, I only lived for two reasons – to fight and to surrender. You’re not reading it wrong. I do surrender especially in times when I know that there’s no more hope in winning my battle.

            It always makes me laugh in humiliation everytime I hear people people say that soldiers like me are brave and fearless. I feel ashamed for myself because I know it isn’t true. There have been a number of times when I proved them. And there have been a greater number of times when I fell down and cry.

            There was this time when I turned my back on one of my fellows when he is asking for help. We were in a combat that time and he was shot by one of our enemies. He asked for help, but I refused. Instead, I run and hide so that I wouldn’t be struck by a bullet.

            I was able to escape from the bullets, but not from guilt. Seeing him died in the field was like seeing myself killed as well. The feeling was really baleful.

            After that disgraceful incident, I tried my best to live as if nothing had happened. I remained being a “gallant” soldier. However, it was not that easy. No matter how I tried to obliterate that incident on my memory, the more it remains into it.

            My fight in the battlefield continued. I won and lost. But every struggle left a scar that reminded me of my failure, cowardice and defeat.

            This life had really imparted me a lot. It might not teach me all the techniques of winning every war, but it taught me to live.

            This life has been my greatest battle. It doesn’t matter if I am a looser for everyone’s opinion. What matters is that I will be a winner in my master’s eyes.

Last Christmas

By: Cherry V. Tubes

            I am staring at our six-foot tall Christmas tree for a couple of minutes now. It was decorated with colorful ribbons and Christmas balls. At the bottom of it were gifts of different sizes.

            I can’t help but reminisce the past Christmas when both of my parents were still alive. We were a picture of a happy family then. My mom used to cook luscious foods for Noche Buena. My dad on the other hand would help my mom in doing other choirs.

            That was eight years ago. Eight Christmas ago before they died on a car accident on their way home for Christmas Eve. What a tragic Christmas gift for me.

            For eight years, I haven’t celebrated Christmas. I hated that day to come because it only reminds me of my parents. It reminds me that I am alone. As an only child, their loss has really been difficult for me. Somehow, it made me stronger than I was before. It taught me to fight all life’s battle.

            After eight years, it was only now that I decided to observe Christmas again. Why a sudden change? It’s because this would be my last Christmas.

            A year ago, I was diagnosed of having a brain cancer. The doctors told me that I only have a year to live. Life has really been so playful to me.

            I was mad at first. It wasn’t that easy for me to accept my illness. However, with the help of some friends, I was able to treasure my remaining days. Funny, but I started to appreciate every little thing in my life.

            An extreme pain on my head makes my eyes close and stop from staring at the Christmas tree. It was so throbbing and it was as if my head would crack any moment. Suddenly, a very coruscating light comes into my view. I did my best to open my eyes to see what that light was. I was astonished to see my mom and my dad beside the Christmas tree. They were both smiling and handling their hands to me.

            “Mom, dad,” I uttered.

            “Merry Christmas, Monique!” my mom replied.

            I smiled back and reached their hand.