Midnight Requiem.

may of spring, day 16

may of spring, present

           Sketchpads. That's what I found inside the vault. Sketchpads. They are small enough that you can put them in your hand bag. Small enough that you couldn't draw a lot in it.

Nilabas ko sa vault and mga sketchpad at walang sinabihan na nakita ko 'yon. I was scared. I don't know why but I am. Hindi naman dapat dahil alam kong pinagkakatiwalaan ako ng mga kaibigan ko at ang rason kung bakit nandito kami sa bahay ng kambal ay para tuklasin kung ano talaga ang nangyari kay Kio. — But, until now, I still didn't told them everything I knew.

Sinimulan ko ulit ang pag uklat sa sketchpad ng ako nalang ulit mag-isa sa bahay. I'm in the room that I used to rent and called mine back in college. Tanging ingay lang ng papel na inuuklat ang maririnig sa silid. Wala akong maintindihan sa mga ginuhit ni Kio. It looks abstract, unfinished. There are words written on the pages, too, pero kahit iyon ay hindi kompleto. I sighed in frustration at napahilamos ulit sa mukha ko. I don't think the sketchpads held something.

But why would Kio hide them in the vault?

I opened another sketchpad and another and another until my brows furrowed by how abstract they all are. Parang hindi nagbabago ang sketchpad na binubuksan ko dahil halos pabalik balik ang mga ginuhit ni Kio. Inis akong napabuntong hininga at kumuha ulit ng isa pang sketchpad at tinabi ito sa kasalukuyan kong tinitignan. Tinugma ko ang pahina ng mga ito at halos pare-parehas talaga ang mga guhit. May ibang detalye na magka-iba pero halos parehas lang ang mga laman nito.

Inabot ko ulit ang kasunod na sketchpad at tinabi ito sa dalawang kasalukuyan kong tinitignan, I look at it intently and flip the next page in each sketchpad at halos matigilan ako ng maaninag ang guhit sa mga papel.

My eyes widen in realization as I immediately reach for the other sketchpads and place it next to each other. Ngayon ko lang din naintindihan kung bakit may mga numero sa cover ng mga sketchpad. I gulp thickly. It was an indication for sequence. Dali dali kong tinabi sa isa't-isa ang sketchpad, para akong bumubuo ng puzzel at ng matapos ito, halos malagutan ako ng hininga.

The first pages of every sketchpad shows a drawing of Golden, the Casino in red district that Kio had been talking about. I bit my lips as I read the words written in the pages. The broken words makes so much sense now that it's complete.

"I am in my second year now and I never imagined myself entering a casino." It says.

I flip pages after pages and each page shows different scenery. Image. Picture. It was beautifully drawn that you would even think it's taken through a camera but no, it was all Kio. He drew it so realistically that the — I gulp, horrified — the bones, the flesh, the blood, looks so, so real.

"I remember the night when my parents died. They were killed. They were shoot to death with a hole in their head and I hid in the hidden compartment behind the painting, watching them bleed. I couldn't remember what my mom, or my dad looks like when they were alive — and not corpse that night."

And below it is the image of the same man and woman but unlike in the portrait, they aren't smiling but instead, bleeding — dying in the sketchpad.

My stomach whirl.

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