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Michelle Visits Cynthia's Grave

It was 10:00 in the morning. The media ethics professor provided to us a presentation about the lack of press freedom in the Martial Law era.

Taylor's inability to speak after his training-related injury weighed heavily on us, especially Erin. She could not bear the sorrowful sight of her boyfriend struggling to even speak clearly.

To compensate, Taylor wrote a few notes on his notebook and gave it to us. That was his way of contributing to the presentation without saying a word.

Upon walking on stage, Michelle, Erin and myself voiced our thoughts on media during Martial Law. It was during the presentation that she began to cry.

"My grandmother was a Martial Law victim," Erin tearfully spoke to the class. "She was a prolific journalist for a prominent newspaper until it was taken down by President Marcos and his cronies for its frequent criticism of the government."

Erin paused for a moment to reflect, her tears continuing to fall from her face.

"To make matters worse, my grandmother was arrested along with several other journalists," Erin recalled. "It was unfair. Suddenly their freedom of the press was robbed because the government wanted nothing but good news coming out of them. Even when my grandmother was released after the regime ended, the psychological scars remained."

Erin sobbed uncontrollably as she remembered her grandmother's hardships in prison. Michelle and I tried comforting her while Taylor walked in to offer some support.

Michelle then gave a stirring comment in front of the class.

"You see, Martial Law in the Philippines was simply about censorship," she said. "Only those loyal to the president were allowed to speak. Those who were critical were forcibly detained without warning. It was like bullying another student, only worse. Good thing we experienced People Power many years later and press freedom was ultimately restored."

Returning to our seats, Erin continued to weep at Taylor's shoulder. The four of us briefly left the classroom to calm ourselves down.

"It's all right Erin," I calmly told her. "Just let it out."

Erin soon stopped crying and flashed a quiet smile in front of us.

"Now I know why my beloved grandmother was so bold," she reflected. "Not once did she flinch nor waver at the authority's hand. No matter how painful it was, my grandmother remained defiant until the bitter end. Too bad she never lived long enough to see me alive, but her memory lasts forever."

After a short yet meaningful embrace, we walked back inside the classroom where the professor made an announcement.

"On our next class, we'll discuss about nudity and why the Philippines remained strict on the matter," he said. "The same groups will do a presentation about it so be prepared. Class dismissed."

Walking out of the classroom, Erin and Taylor bade farewell while Michelle and I headed downstairs for some lunch. As we exited the classroom, Carson walked by to greet us.

"Nice morning to you girls," Carson happily addressed. "Where are you off to?"

"We're looking for a fine restaurant," Michelle replied. "What about you? Are you going to join us?"

"Sorry Michelle, I'm off to class," Carson declined. "Anyway, we'll talk later. See you then."

While Carson strolled to his next class, Michelle took an unexpected u-turn and walked directly to the parking lot. I promptly followed suit.

Once at the parking lot, Michelle took the keys of her car and opened the door.

"Are we going home early?" I asked her.

"Sort of," Michelle sarcastically replied. "Besides the 1:00 p.m. class of mine was a free cut so that was the end of my day."

But instead of driving me home, Michelle decided to go to an unexpected destination. After taking out some fast food at a popular restaurant, she detoured to a local cemetery at the heart of Manila.

"You know where Cynthia's grave is, right?" Michelle inquired me as she stopped the car.

"Definitely," I responded positively with a nodding gesture. "It was a stone's throw away from our home, just near the village."

"Well, you and I are visiting Cynthia," Michelle promptly announced. "What can you say?"

"If you say so," I unanimously approved of Michelle's long-awaited plan. "Let's go."

Michelle drove her Vios directly to the sacred cemetery where Cynthia was buried. Upon stepping out, she bought a few lovely flowers and candles from a nearby vendor while I walked alongside her.

At Cynthia's grave, Michelle placed some flowers near the marble marker and illuminated a few candles. She looked pensively up the radiant sky and began speaking passionately.

"Cynthia, I know you're keenly watching from above," Michelle opened. "These precious flowers and candles are for you."

As Michelle went on, tears started flowing from her face. She lowered her head down for a moment and wept.

"Cynthia, we'd never met when you're still alive," Michelle tearfully continued. "But in my heart, I dearly missed you so much. Even Christine is still longing for your enduring presence every now and then. If you were still living, we might have willingly helped eliminate those demons out of your gentle heart."

Michelle bowed her head again and continued sobbing. Even my eyes began to leak tears while worriedly looking at her.

"Sorry if we were unable to support you in the moment of truth," Michelle resumed speaking, her tears still falling on the ground. "But I hope your soul is in a perfect place now. In the meantime, Christine and I will carry on the fight for you. Those bullies deserve a lot of punishment. Lord please support us in this crusade."

After motioning the sign of the cross, Michelle stood up and promptly raised her head one last time. She gently wiped the tears off her eyes and smiled upwards, undoubtedly knowing that Cynthia will always guide Michelle and myself every step of the way.

The following morning, she showed up in the gym wearing her training gear. Regrettably, a full practice with the team will have to wait as Michelle underwent physical therapy exercises with the varsity trainer.

At that point, I met up with Kyla who showed me the philosophy assignment she worked on all week.

"What do you think?" Kyla summoned me.

"Looks concise enough," I nodded approvingly on the assignment. "Hope the professor is reasonably satisfied with our work."

Kyla carefully stored the project inside her bag and rejoined the team for practice. In the meantime, I sat down on one of the bleacher seats and waited attentively for them to finish.

Michelle's poignant visit to Cynthia's grave again brought out her softer side which motivated her and Christine to continue dealing with the school's most wicked bullies. In the meantime, the road to recovery begins for Michelle as she undergoes physical therapy for the first time since the shooting.

As for Christine, her story continues next.

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