THE VOICE OF AN ORPHAN

I am an orphan; my age was 16 last June.

Happy? No, I am not.
I am lonely because at the age of nine I am parent-less, penniless and even future-less.
But they say i am beautiful. This beauty would lead me unto the galaxy of stardom.
In the world of modeling or singing for instance. Yes, I could be a fashion model or a singer. But I
disgrace all of them because of the memories. The past serves as desperation not inspiration. Believe it
or not at the age of eight I saw my parents murdered.

It was a beautiful day in November when we were on our way home from harvesting rice. Smiles on our
lips when we were on our way. When suddenly a group of armed men halted us. Without any warning
they drove us into a nearby secluded place.
 
 And while we were on our way, I could see the tears from my mother's eyes begging the men to set us
free.

Are you Macario Santiago? You are responsible for the capture of commader Reyes so you ought to be
punished.

Commander Reyes? That name is familiar to me I said. Yes. . . yes. . . he was the hulk leader which father
gave an information for his capture. No. . . no. . . don't hurt father, he is an ideal father.

Please. . . please. . . for the love of God spare my husband.Then they tied father into a bulky tree and
started whipping him. Then father shouted as he saw mother being hurt.

No. . . no. . . don't do that to my wife. Kill me if you want but not my wife. I knelt down and prayed then
bang. . . bang. . . bang. . .

I lifted my head and there lay before me the dead bodies of my parents. Inay. . . itay. . . inay. . . itay. . .
how could I live without you? But I placed myself to God. I know he will not forsake me. Yes, God will not
forsake me.
HOOKED IN DRUG

My hands, my arms, my head, my body. I am shivering. I am trembling, what is happening. Yeah, mom's
jewelry box. I need it. I must get it. yes, I need several thousand of pesos to sustain me, to give way to
my vice. Do you hear that? I need money for cocaine, I am helpless drug dependent.

It started out with a simple invitation to experience what is new. Little just little, once just once ... until I
started yearning for it. Until I find out I cannot stand without having it more often.

Dad is too busy with his political career, wooing people to vote for him in a congressional seat in our
province. Mom was equally occupied to grace the local dailies for her charitable projects left and right. I
was left alone all to myself. It was only yaya who kept me company, pampering my every need. Cars,
money, good time, all I wanted. Name them, I get them. Tired with all these I looked for more until I
explored drugs with Fred, my friend. I started to change from good reserved individual to an out-going,
happy go lucky. I became an illusive lawbreaker with dad and mom's influence.

What? Do you know if this ever made happy? No, I am not. I want peace I don't and cannot find peace.
The urge to use drug becomes so strong and irresistible. This is the best escape I find over the emptiness
and unworthiness of my wasted, meaningless and aimless existence.

Do you understand I want to change but I cannot. All I need is to end my life. This is truly a useless life.
Goodbye beautiful life, beautiful world. Goodbye Dad and Mom  I don't deserve you (bang,bang)
THE CULPRIT

The Republic of the Philippines

Versus Rolando Madlang Bayan

Criminal Case No._________

      ...................Yes your honor I am Rolando Madlang Bayan docked in Criminal Case #27890 for multiple
murders and drug trafficking. Yes, I pledge guilty to the crime I do not intend to deny. Come, sentence
me to the ultimate capital punishment I deserve but I beg of you to listen to me.

      This is how it happened. Many years ago in an obscure village, a healthy boy was born to a woman
who had a name in a flickerville. My father was a man who had a name to himself. I was the fruit of their
secret relationship. After my birth my mom got back to the world of make believe just to accept many
more rejections. Offers started to come just a little and all her misfortunes were charged to my
unexpected coming. She called me a jinx, her misfortune, her failure. Until one time she died of
overdose of sleeping pills. Her untimely death added to my sufferings. My own father disowned me for
reason he alone knows. Society condemned me. The pang of rejection was even bitter. I started on my
own. Living the hard way until I found myself hooked in the business of drug trafficking.

     You brand me as evil, but have you ever tried to give me the chance to live decently? You call me
wicked but has it ever crossed your mind that you too had a share in shaping me into a hoodlum?

     During the pitiful night, there was raid. We were surrounded by men in uniform. From my place I
know the man who led the raiding team was the man responsible for my birth ... My own Dad ... I could
have killed him that very night. I could have vindicated the injustice he had done but blood was thicker
than water ... I made painful decision. I surrendered and handed him my revolver, I know I would answer
for the many crimes of murder I had done but I am sure with my decision my father will earn another
feather in his cap. It would mean a promotion for him.

      Your honor, now on your hands lie the verdict. Who is the real culprit? The man who sold prohibited
drugs to sustain a living or the man who turned his back from responsibility? The man charged of
multiple murders or the decorated man who led me to this horrible crime?