When we were still living at my grandmother’s house somewhere in UPD, there was this girl who used to be my playmate until she lost her temper at me and scratched my face. Hard. Insecure? Haha. Good thing it didn’t leave a lasting scar.
The only reason she visited my memory is that there has been three incidents wherein I rode a jeepney that their family owns. It’s not much of a big deal, really. And it’s not like I have a grudge over her since I wasn’t able to get revenge or something. I don’t really care if I am on their jeep. What bothers, intrigues, or disturbs me is that beside her father, whose driving, is her mom. Those three times that I had been in their jeep, her parents were there, barely talking to each other. I know it is not my business and it should never concern me but I can’t keep on wondering if they were like that every single day. Like, why would the mother always tag along when she’s not doing anything in the jeep anyway? I mean, doesn’t she have more important things to do than just sit there and look ridiculously sad? Well, it makes me sad that she looks sad. And I keep wondering why she has that look.
I dunno. I’m just curious.