The Curse of Piratia Shiamira

TCOPS 1: Storytelling

CASSANDRA

"Wala na bang iba pong story, Ma'am Cassandra?" Tanong sa akin ng isang estudyante na kasama ko ngayon sa school library.

"Anong ibig mong sabihin, iha?"

"Iba pa pong kwento! Isa pa pong story, ma'am!"

Then the clamor of eight-year-old children commences. They demanded more stories than before. I have yet enough stories to give them.

I have no references to pique their interest.

"How about Cinderella?" I tried to enlighten them. Reminding myself internally to revise my script last month. "A remake!"

"No!" Sabay-sabay nilang saad.

I rest my pointing finger to my lips to shush them. But they didn't listen. They're becoming sapotis, little child kind creatures that are bery playful and active, that are ready to rip off my hair if I didn't give them what they want in seconds.

This is a disaster!

"Okay, okay," ani ko sa mga 'to. "How about next week? Wala kasi akong maikwento na sa inyo ngayon. Pero next week may bago na, okay ba?" I asked.

Technically, I have nothing at all. I'm a big fat liar. My brain juice to come up for a new story is frozen in place. It's too cold. I couldn't think for other alternatives or retellings. Oh my goodness! I'll fail the class and they will become real sapotis.

"Talaga po?!" One of my audience squeal in delight.

NO! Son of— "Yes!"

"We love you, Ma'am Cass!" They said in chorus.

"I love you too!" I smiled sweetly and watched my little kids walk out of the library and back to their classrooms.

Lintek! Ano na, Cassandra? Call on sick for a whole week? Magsinungaling na may emergency? Tipong kunwaring namatay ang alaga mong butiki upang hindi ka kulit ng nga bata tapos makalimot sila?

"I hate myself," I mutter under my breath.

"You're screwed, Cass."

Yes, I know! Hindi naman niya kailangan ipaalala iyon sa akin! I already told myself that.

God! Why does he even have to be redundant?

"Your idea will flop, Cassandra. I'm already telling you."

I roll my eyes and slap my left cheek with my left palm. Again, he doesn't have to remind me how a bad liar I am! He's just too smart for all of these. And me, his partner for this part-time job, who is a clown that acts his helpful—screw him—story ideas.

"You're screwed too."

"Nope."

"Yes. We both screw up. You are part of this tragedy of mine."

"Hey! Don't include me in your stupidity! That's dirty talk."

"You are dirty!"