I heard a knock. It was followed by the sound of a creaking door. I hid under the stairs, trying to stare at the shadow of the feet about to take the first step. The quietness made my breath louder to the ears.

My sister came home very late. Our parents were so worried that they called our uncle who happened to be a police officer. She was not wearing her school uniform. She said she participated in an event where they have placards, posters, and tarps.

I have never forgotten the times when we played in the streets, throwing slippers against the can. We ran until we reached the top of the hill-like sand near the river. We jumped with ropes and garters and swam in weekends. Those were the days of our innocence.

My dream is to be a person – a winner – who stands in the circle of the winners. I never wanted the eyes of the people who think that I am a lonely conceited man dancing in the waters of false triumph and declaring a savage victory that trips power among the so called “weak.” If I would be a winner, so should the people who surround me and believe that I can be what I want to be.

All my life, I struggled to live the purpose I set upon myself and the purpose I know God prevailed. It is an ordain, a prophecy, and a story marked in my inner gallantry. I was someone who roamed the world of the outcast, feeble… scrawny… puny. I was lonely. I held a grip and decided that I must brave the grasses of fortune and the flowers of destiny. I developed the power and learned to wield it properly. This power shaped my core and my philosophy.

I want to be a part of the circle of the winners who appreciate the failure that brought them to the top. Being a loser is the first stage on becoming a winner. Never judge the fiasco of disappointments that tormented the shape of our hearts because emotional stress also helps us to be strong, but it further measures how long we can hold on – a test of endurance.

Real leaders produce new leaders who are good-hearted, too; those who can uphold the values of volunteerism and patriotism.

What beauty it is to see if the world is full of kind people. Courage marks the greatness.

I smile as a way of letting the world know that every moment is not cruel. I laugh as a way of letting people know that happiness is a choice.

The thing that I have learned is that even if I know a lot of people, there are times that I have to save myself. I have to be firm. I have to be my self-proclaimed hero. I have to release the power within me. I have to choose whether to love or to hate or to follow both of their paths.

I had a feeling that someone needs a rescue. Maybe John was right, hope is still amongst us. He led the way, I was in the middle, Kuya Isko was right behind us, scrutinizing the surroundings for possible attacks. The town was very silent like a ghost-built cavern.

The sun triggered the hot rays and we embraced the heat, tickling our skins to induce salty sweat. I swallowed the saliva stuck in my mouth as we continued to walk further.

We grabbed whatever we need and Kuya Isko drove the van, and the long journey began. He was careful, not fast, and our eyes were furtive and observant, still hoping that there could be survivors that we know.

"For sale, baby shoes, never worn." - Ernest Hemingway