“The reason I tell the story, again and again, is because I cannot forget, and because sometimes I’m afraid they will.”

Patricia Evangelista received the gift of being able to write and speak in behalf of the victims. She’s like someone that is leading a new path, what path I am talking about, I’m not quite sure but I know she is leading it. She may have a lot in her sleeves once and for all but for these memories to meddle with is what’s making it more difficult for her. I bet, being alive seems to be more precious than before for her.

I get to understand the explainable pain she feels inside as she reminisce something that someone should forget, but she wants to remember. When my uncle was shot in the neck and died, I still remember me and my cousin cleaning the cold white tiles covered with crimson blood, the steel-like smell of it as if it was still fresh in my mind. The whole family was in total shock, but tries to manage the situation. Seeing police officers kept coming back and forth, hearing the sirens of the police cars, and the noises their mobile with antennas make aren’t helping us enough to calm down. My grandma wasn’t able to utter a word and the  tears in her eyes just kept on going, and seeing one of the eldest cousin busy on her phone updating our uncles and my mom. Being  one of the eldest among my cousins, I was asked to clean up the house, to clean up the blood, the blood from my uncle, the blood from the unjust pulling of a trigger to a person who did nothing to deserve that kind of death. As I was mopping the floor I don’t feel anything in my mind, I feel numb, its just my heart aches, and my eyes waters.

It was one of the painful memories I had, I get to question myself if there’s really justice in this country. Yes, the gunman was convicted and after three long years of trials in court, he was found guilty and was imprisoned. Yes, the suspect may have been jailed, but what he caused to us was more than receiving that punishment. We lost a family member, we once feared for our lives when we’re not even doing anything wrong, my uncles had a lot more of arguments since then, it just feels so incomplete, it feels empty. That’s why when I say I totally understand her, I truly do. Imagine seeing numerous numbers of bodies buried underground and was dug by a backhoe? Having someone by your side which is a relative of one of the victims and looking out for the body of her beloved father? It was a real life nightmare, to see such painful event in your life and knowing you can’t do anything at the moment and it was more painful for the victims to end up being killed just because of their oath to their job. And knowing that this Maguindanao Massacre still don’t receive any justice, was as painful as seeing the victims being backhoe-d.

Why do people who took life and do such cruel things have to still be freely moving in this world? The culprits might be out there, eating in a silver platter, smiling and laughing over conversations, gaining much more money while the families of the victims are given with nothing but promises from  our government and left with a pain in their hearts. Is justice really blind? Is there really a justice going on in our country? Or Justice may see if justice was given a lot of money?

Patricia said, “I still sort of thought that people were good people. I am a better person now, and that I don’t believe anyone, anymore.” That’s the problem with our society, the world was being toxic because of bad people. Why can we just have a world that is just full of cupcakes and rainbows?


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