Novels by nooneseemstoknow

The country did not heal.That was the first lesson after the truth.People liked to speak of healing because it made damage sound obedient. Wounds closed. Families reconciled. Institutions reviewed themselves with solemn language and expensive coffee. Statues acquired plaques. Dead men became complicated. Living men attended panels about accountability and smiled as if accountability were weather happening somewhere else.Healing was a word for speeches.The record changed more slowly.It changed through corrected footnotes, reopened land files, amended museum catalogs, and civil servants who discovered courage at inconvenient desk hours. It changed because Dr. Aragon became intolerable in public and worse in private. It changed because Elise built a database called OLD THIEVES, NEW CONSEQUENCES and refused to rename it even after three lawyers begged.It changed because Rafael Cardenas survived.He recovered badly.That was how he phrased it.“I am recovering like a man being repair

The fake engagement ended in a lawyer’s office.That felt insulting after everything.Not in a chapel. Not in the courtyard where I had first performed myself into humiliation. Not beneath the chandeliers where Yvette had nearly been poisoned while wearing old gold like armor. Not even in the library, where most of our disasters had come to feel at home.A lawyer’s office.Beige walls. Glass table. Two pens. Three copies of a termination agreement printed on paper too clean for what it carried.Elise said clean paper was useful because it made ugly things easier to file.No one laughed.It had been four days since the midnight trap.Four days since the black key entered evidence.Four days since Rafael Cardenas had been found alive in a private clinic, drugged, bruised, dehydrated, and already trying to accuse people from a hospital bed before doctors threatened to sedate him for his own good.Four days since my father was taken into formal questioning.Not arrested.Not charged.Not

Midnight did not arrive dramatically.That felt rude.After everything this family had done in the name of timing, midnight came like any other hour. The clocks moved. Rain tapped once against the library windows and stopped. Reporters shouted beyond the gates until police forced them farther down the road. A maid carried a tray of untouched sandwiches through the hall and looked as if she might apologize to the bread.Inside the library, we prepared for a trap by arguing about bags.Not weapons.Not courage.Bags.Elise had produced six identical black evidence pouches, three of which held decoy keys made by a locksmith who had asked no questions because Elise paid him in cash and terror. The real keys sat in a steel case with tamper seals, documented twice by Dr. Aragon and once by Clara, who filmed every angle as if the keys might later deny existing.Gold.Vine-marked iron.Silver.The black key missing.Always that empty space.Yvette stood at the table in dark clothes, not the g

The next morning, Yvette made three columns.Return.Stay.Destroy.She wrote them on a clean sheet of paper in the library while the house muttered around her. Phones rang. Reporters shouted at the gates. Lawyers arrived through the service entrance with folders and faces shaped by hourly billing. Somewhere in the public hall, two servants measured the empty wall where Ferdinand Mercado’s portrait had hung, while Elise argued over whether document copies should be framed in black or dark wood.History had become interior design.No one was happy about it except, possibly, Elise.Yvette sat at the head of the table with Altagracia’s witness letter open before her. Antonio’s note lay to one side. Luisa’s copied letter to the other. Veronica Mendoza Reyes’s portrait watched from its padded table, her painted broken bell dark under the lamp.The three columns waited.Return.Stay.Destroy.Dr. Aragon stood near the shelves with his arms crossed, looking at the paper as if it might become

By morning, my face had begun disappearing.Not all at once.That would have been too merciful.It vanished in sections, by contract clause and public caution. A watch brand removed my campaign from its front page and replaced me with a bottle of perfume photographed beside water. A hospital donor gala blurred my image from last year’s promotional video and called it an editing update. A clothing company announced it was pausing collaboration with public figures involved in ongoing historical disputes, as if Ferdinand Mercado’s memorandum and a failed trouser campaign belonged in the same moral category.Elise read each notice aloud at breakfast because she said grief became less powerful when processed as administration.No one believed her.She continued anyway.“Three brand suspensions, two indefinite pauses, one termination dressed as mutual respect, and a board member asking whether Sandro’s recent statements create reputational exposure.”I poured coffee. “Do I have recent state

By morning, everyone had become an expert.That was the first punishment.Not the shouting at the gates. Not the sponsors suspending contracts before their lawyers finished breakfast. Not even my father’s statement calling the release “a reckless display of unverified materials taken outside proper family and institutional custody.”No.The punishment was the sudden birth of expertise.Television historians who had never entered an archive now spoke gravely about document aging. Political commentators mispronounced Antonio Nataniel Gonzalez while explaining why dead men should be judged within their time. Lawyers who had built careers defending inheritance disputes asked whether a woman publicly engaged under contract could be trusted around property claims. Lifestyle presenters leaned forward over morning coffee and said Yvette’s face was “compelling, certainly, but perhaps too compelling.”Too compelling.Elise heard that one and threw a croissant at the television.It hit a senator

"Nakita ko nga pala ito sa bukana. Sa iyo ba ito, Twinkleann?" Nakita kong hawak ni Erwan ang red shoulder bag ko na ninakaw sa akin."Hinabol ko ang batang naghablot ng bag ko kaya napunta ako doon sa lugar na nawalan ako ng malay. Mukhang akin nga ito," sabi ko nang tingnan ang laman nito.Nasa loob pa rin naman ang lamang mga ID ko. Buti at ang pera lang ang kinuha."Pasensya tiningnan ko ang laman ng bag para makita kung may impormasyon ng may-ari at nakita ko ang ID mo. May nakita rin akong litrato ng isang batang lalaki, kapatid mo ba siya?" Usisa ni Erwan sa akin nang buksan ko ang wallet ko."Ah, ito ba?" Pinakita ko sa kanila ang litrato na nasa loob ng wallet ko. "Baby pic ito ni Ruan, tinago ko nang makita ko ito. Ang cute niya kasi," nahihiya kong amin sa kanila."Kuya Erick, ganito rin ba mukha ko ng bata pa ako? Hindi ko na maalala eh," napakamot sa ulo niya si Erwan habang nagtatanong sa kuya niya."Siguro kong mas maputi ka lang. Pero batang yagit ka lang noon eh kaya m

"Pasenya na, wala. Isang taga-bundok lang ako kaya hindi ko na kailangan ng mga ganyang teknolohiya para mabuhay," mapait na wika ng lalaki sa akin habang nakatalikod pa rin at iniilawan ang mga lamparang nakasabit."Kung ganoon ay wala na akong ibang magagawa. Hihintayin ko na lang dumating ang araw bukas. May kasama ka ba rito? Narinig ko kasing may kausap ka kanina?"I was wondering if he lived with someone else. Sigurado akong may narinig akong kausap niya kanina. Puro boses ng lalaki iyon."Oo pero, bumaba na siya. Pumasok na sa trabaho. Kung nagugutom ka ay pagtiisan mo na lamg muna ang hinanda kong lugaw. Bukas babalik si Erwan at magdadala ng pagkain."Ngayon ay hinarap ako ng lalaking kausap. Kahit na ang ilaw lang sa nakasabit na lampara ang nagliliwanag sa paligid ay kita ko parin ang malaking peklat sa mukha niya. Halos kalahati ng mukha niya ang peklat."Pagpasensiyahan mo na ang mukha ko. Kung natatakot ka ay huwag mo na lang akong pansinin. Kumain ka muna rito at ako ay

"Suki! Bili ka na ngayon. Tingnan mo ang sariwa ng mga gulay ko. Kakaangkat ko lang nito mula sa nagtatanim." Panay ang sigaw ng nagtitinda sa mga taong dumadaan."Nakabili na ako suki eh. Bukas babalik ako," sagot ng ginang na dumaan.Umaga pa lang ay marami na ang mga tao rito. Maraming nagtitinda sa gilid ng daan at marami na rin ang mga may bitbit ng plastic bag na pinamili. Ganito naman talaga sa palengke. At nataunan pang linggo ngayon kaya maraming namimili.At dahil sa init ng araw ay di mapagkakaila na pawisan na ng mga taong nandito. I can see some men curiously staring at me as I pass by on a small souvenier shop. But they continued their work after taking a glance.This place is just a small village. Siguro magkakakilala lang lahat ng mga tao rito. They can easily tell if someone is a stranger. Although, I am wearing a cap to hide myself, I still look different from them.Dito ang lugar na sinabi nila Isaac kung saan posible namin makita si Ruan. Isa itong palengke sa ibab

It's almost a week now since Ruan and I had a fight. In the first three days, I would purposely avoid bumping into Ruan in the house. Kaya hindi ako lumalabas ng kwarto ko kapag hindi pa umaalis si Ruan ng bahay. While he will just knock on my door once, before leaving. Siguro para ipaalam sa akin na aalis na siya.Habang ako ay nagkukulong lang sa bahay at pinagpapatuloy ang paggawa ko ng mga sketches ko. Marami-rami na rin akong nagawa pero parang hindi ko parin nakukuha na maging kuntento. I want draw more and satisfy myself.Bawat araw ay sobrang busy ko. Hindi ko na napapansin na lagi nang ginagabi ng uwi si Ruan pagdaan ng mga araw.Pagdating ng gabi, habang naghahanda na akong matulog ay saka ko pa naririnig ang pagbukas ng pinto ng kwarto niya na kaharap lang ng kwarto ko. Hindi ko na rin sinusubukan silipin kung ano ang lagay niya dahil sa pagod ko buong araw kakagawa ng mga sketches.Naging ganoon na ang daily routine namin hanggang isang araw. Things just changed so drasti

Ngayong araw ay pinili ko na lang na manatili sa bahay. I want to make use of this time to start sketching drafts for my dream fashion show. I finished my fine arts degree. At panahon na para magamit ko kung ano ang mga natutunan ko.I was sipping my green tea while holding my pencil and still stucked on what theme should I start.Nakaupo ako sa gilid ng bintana at tanaw ko ang mga matatayog na puno ng kahoy. All I can see are green and shades of brown.Aha! Should I try to recreate the trees in my dresses?Binalikan ko ang blangkong sketchpad ko at gumuhit ng katawan ng babae. Sunod na ginuhit ko ay ang mga korte ng dahon na nakapalibot sa bandang dibdib nito.It was a tube dress filled with leaves-like ornaments. It was beautiful and it made me smile.Naisip kong gamitin ang kayumangging kulay sa laylayan ng damit. The lower part of the dress is derived from circle skirt added with flower petal stitches. Using organza cloth on the lower skirt will give it more emphasis.My first dr

Nang makalabas kami sa horror mansion ay umupo kami sa isang bench na nasa harap ng carousel.May eyes are still sore from crying. Naging palpak na naman ang plano ko. Bumigay na naman ang mahinang Twinkle sa loob ko. Kapag lagi na lang ganito, masasanay na siyang laging nakadepende sa tulong ng iba. Ayaw ko na maging ganito na lang lagi.I want a strong and independent Twinkle."I'll get water for you." Tumayo si Ruan. Patalikod na siya nang biglang sinampal siya ng mascot na pikachu. Napahawak siya sa mukha at nilingon ang mascot."Bakit mo ako sinampal?" Ruan angrily asked but the mascot just stand there and pointed at me.Tinuro niya ako bago inilagay ang dalawang kamay sa gilid ng mukha niya at tinuro ng dalawang hintuturo niya ang lupa."What is he saying," Ruan confusedly asked."Hindi ako sigurado...but looking at his actions. Ah!" I now realized what the mascot is trying to say. "Sinampal mo siya kasi akala mo na pinaiyak niya ako?" Tanong ko sa mascot at tumango ito."I don'