by Mr. Wordplay
The huge hall elegantly shimmered with bright daunting lights which amplified the flashy glows of jewellery worn by women in posh tailored dresses. Music from the finest orchestra serenaded the audience to their delight while they exchanged chats and hearty laughter that filled the atmosphere. Behind the shadows, a faint smile curled on the wrinkled face of a man who faded in the black. No one, yes not even one, new the terror that awaited them.
The lights dimmed and everyone in the antechamber were in awe and excitement, eager to know what surprise the Cojuangcos, host of the night’s annual gathering, had in store for them. The lights pierced the white backdrop as the projector began to gleam the clip. Silence encumbered the hall. The white backdrop suddenly turned red and the musical scoring changed to something dark and eerie. What seemed to be streaks of blood flowed on the screen, spontaneously followed by gunfire and shrieks of people. Apparently, it was the Hacienda Luisita massacre that was being played. The audience’s nerves are getting the best of them but they tried to remain calm, thinking that this could be a prank by the organizers.
The clip stopped. A voice filled with intense emotion and contempt reverberated and chilled every soul in attendance. “We are the peasants”, the voice started. “For so long we have suffered innumerable pains all because of your greed. We toil, we die, in expense of your life of comfort and total control of power. Every evil has its end. Tonight we say no more. Tonight, we end this. Tonight we end this with a bang!”
Chaos erupted as everyone shrieked in terror as they rushed towards the doors. But before they could even get near them, in an instant, an ear splitting, thunderous sound exploded. The vestibule burst in flames as it shot fragments of wood, metal, flesh and bones way up in the air like an exuberant pyrotechnic display. A jubilant roar coming from every direction ruptured as a myriad of people approached the inferno which turned into ashes all their pain and misery. “Tonight, we start all over again. Tomorrow we wake up to a just and fair Philippines!”, shouted by a familiar voice with the same wrinkled face.
---- The farmer woke up embracing the cold, hard and rusty surface of his kris. For some reason, he could not seem to get up. He felt that all his energies had been drained to the last muscle. Summoning up all his strength, he turned his head. A bloody field filled with fallen bodies of people he soon recognized as his comrades, who fought with all they have and whom he considered his brothers, stunned him. He also found himself swimming in a pool of his own blood. The gravity of the events struck him with ineffable brutality.
“One night which ended all our misery with a bang” he started. “Not a bad for a last dream” he continued, as he conjured the same faint smile but now with a gushing pain in his heart. “I wish I didn’t wake up, so I’d die sweetly even if it were under an illusion.” “I guess, a dream will always just be a dream” he mumbled to himself. Even to the final moments of his earthly life marred with strife, he was encumbered with sorrow. Alas! He could not even rest in peace. As his heart raced to its end, and he struggled to breathe his last, he looked at the night sky- so calm, never changing, and unmoved.
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