TW: suicide, grief, hazing, and emotional distress

CHAPTER 29 - EDITORIAL

Halos marinig ko na ang sarili kong hininga dahil sa katahimikan sa buong opisina ng TVOA. Kung anong ikinatahimik nang buong lugar ay siya namang ikinaingay ng isip ko.

Huminga ako nang malalim ngunit parang may nakabara sa dibdib ko. Ilang araw ko nang paulit-ulit na sinasabi sa sarili kong sisimulan ko na ang editorial na ito ngunit wala akong maisulat.

Maingay ang isip ko pero kahit anong pilit, hindi ko maisatitik ang mga sigaw doon. Ang dami kong gustong sabihin pero walang lumalabas. I can't quite pinpoint which angle to tackle, kung paano ko sisimulan, o kung paano ko tatapusin.

Matagal ko nang pinangarap isulat ang editorial na 'to. Ang editorial na magbibigay ng hustisya kay Jace. Ngunit kahit dalawang taon na ang lumipas, heto pa rin ako, nakatitig sa blankong screen, hindi alam kung paano bibigyang-boses ang isang istoryang matagal nang sumisigaw sa isip ko.

Kanina pa ako nakatulala sa harapan ng laptop ng TVOA pero wala talaga akong mapiga.

On the screen, the cursor just kept blinking at me.

I suddenly closed my eyes... trying to gather my thoughts. Pero imbes na ideya ang pumasok sa utak ko, isang pamilyar na mukha ang sumulpot doon. Mabilis kong iminulat ang mata at humigpit ang hawak ko sa mouse. Napalunok ako bago huminga nang malalim, trying to push the thought away. Pero mas lalo lang niyang pinagharian ang utak ko.

Isang linggo na ang nakalipas simula nang mapagpasyahan kong bumalik ng publication. At sa isang linggong iyon, tinupad nga ni Nash ang ipinangako niya. Hindi ko natagpuan ang kahit anino niya sa bawat sulok ng opisina.

Hindi ko iyon napansin noong una dahil masyado akong abala sa pag-iwas sa buong editorial board. Sa tuwing pupunta ako sa office, sinisigurado kong wala ni isa sa kanila ang makakatagpo ko. Pumupunta lamang ako sa TVOA kapag alam kong may klase sila.

Tinatapos ko ang mga trabaho ko nang mag-isa. If I need something from them, I made sure I email it or message them in our group chat.

I was pretty sure this is what I wanted. No presence of everyone who wouldn't understand where I was coming from. No eyes to who's following all of my actions. Pero kahit ganoon, may mga time pa rin na nakakasalubong ko si Ciqa, naaabutan ko si Ynigo. Minsan, alam kong sinasadyang magpaiwan ni Florissa pero kailan man hindi ko natagpuan si Nash.

I forced myself to focus on the screen. Nanuyo ang lalamunan ko, parang may kung anong bumara ro'n. Writing this felt like opening an old wound—one I knew hadn't healed yet, but I kept picking at it anyway, hurting myself just to feel something.

Because that is what this is all about anyway, to let it bleed a little, just enough to maybe finally heal.

It hurt, but I started writing anyway.

Two years. Two years since the hazing incident involving Sigma Perpetua of the College of Liberal Arts left three students injured—yet the only life truly lost that night wasn't even one of them. It was J. Strauss Ballesteros, a student leader who had nothing to do with Sigma Perpetua's brutal initiation rites, but who was blamed, punished, and pushed to the edge by a system that needed a scapegoat. And we let it happen.

"Rayne, wala akong kasalanan."

Nanginginig ang boses ni Jace nang lapitan ako. He was holding a tabloid newspaper. Halos hindi ko siya makilala. Magulo ang palaging maayos niyang buhok. Maitim ang eyebugs sa ilalim nang mga mata niya. Nasa likod kami ng CLA Council room. Mag-aalas nuwebe na ng gabi pero hindi pa rin siya umuuwi.

Umiling ako nang paulit uli. "Alam ko," I whispered. "Jace, alam kong wala kang kasalanan."

Pero hindi sapat ang alam ko. Hindi sapat ang paniniwala ko.

"Kahit anong gawin ko, kahit anong paliwanag... wala silang pakialam. Bakit ako?" punong-puno ng hinanakit ang boses niya. His eyes reflected panic. Nangingnig din ang kamay niyang may hawak noong tabloid.

I could see the bold, merciless words on the front page.

An article titled Holding Student Leaders Accountable for What They Allowed painted Ballesteros as someone complicit in the crime, suggesting that his position in the student council made him responsible for the organization's actions. The school administration revoked his Latin honors, nearly expelled him. They called it accountability. A necessary action. A reminder that student leaders are not above the rules. But was he truly to blame, or was he simply the easiest target in the face of public outrage?

"Jace, magsalita ka naman!" Halos pasigaw kong sinabipero hindi siya tumingin. Hindi siya gumalaw. Hindi siya nagsalita.

Nakaupo lang siya doon, sa gilid ng kama niya, gripping his knees so tightly kahit halos maputla na ang kanyang mga daliri.

"Magsalita ka please..." He was like that after silang ipatawag ng office of student affairs, kasama ang papa niya.

Matagal siyang hindi gumalaw. Wala. Walang kahit anong reaksyon. Pero nang sa wakas ay nag-angat siya ng tingin, doon ko nakita. Doon ko nakita kung gaano na siya kalungkot. But Jace only gave me a small, broken smile.

"Anong pang silbi? Walang nakinig..."

Tuluyan na siyang bumigay, humagulgol siya. He broke down right in front of me, his shoulders shaking violently as sob after sob tore through him.

"They took everything, Rayne." His breath hitched. "Lahat ng pinaghirapan ko, wala... wala na."

He swallowed hard, eyes darting to the side like he couldn't even bear to look at me.

I took a shaky step toward him. "Jace, anong ibig mong sabihin—"

"They revoked my Latin honors."

"No," I whispered, shaking my head as I step closer. "No, hindi nila pwedeng—"

"They did," he cut me off. Then he let out a breathless, bitter laugh. "Wala akong kasalanan, Rayne!."

"Tatlong taon," he choked out, his voice cracking. "Tatlong taon kong ginapang 'yon—every sleepless night, every missed holiday, every fucking breakdown just to keep my grades up," he whispered.

My chest tightened, aching in ways I couldn't describe.

"Jace, hindi p'wedeng ganito," I said, desperate. "Ipaglalaban natin 'to—"

"Anong ipaglaban, Rayne?" His voice was cold now, sharp with resignation. "Sinubukan ko na. Pero... tinanggap na ni Papa."

Something inside me shattered for him. "No. Jace—"

"Pinanood kong tanggapin niya lahat." Humugot siya ng malalim na buntong hininga habang umiilig, tila hindi pa rin makapaniwala. "Wala akong kasalanan, pero para sa kanya, mas mabuti nang aminin ko na lang. Para matahimik na ang lahat. Para hindi na lalong lumala." His voice broke. "Para hindi masira ang pangalan niya."

I covered my mouth, fighting back the sting in my throat.

"Gano'n lang, Rayne." Mapait siyang tumawa. "Tatlong taon kong pinaghirapan, pero isang desisyon lang ni Papa, tapos na lahat. He didn't even fought for me."

Nilapitan ko siya pero umiling siya. He shove me away. I shook my head in pain.

"Alam mo ba kung anong sabi niya?" Tinitigan niya ako bago nagsalita. Kitang-kita ko doong gumuhit ang sakit. "Anak, magpahinga ka na. May plano ang Diyos.'"

Jace ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a choked laugh. "What the hell is his fucking plan!?"

He screamed his heart out in his room. I let him scream. I stood there, helpless, while the world decided that Jace wasn't innocent.

Humuhot ako nang malalim na hininga nang maramdamang my eyes starts to blurr. The cursor on my screen blinked back at me—waiting.

I pressed my hands against my temples as squeezed my eyes shut, but his voice wouldn't leave. Nanginginig ang mga daliri ko sa keyboard. My heart ached endlessly but I forced myself to keep typing.

Two years. Now, let's remember how the school chose to protect its image over its students. How Sigma Perpetua walked away unscathed, still operating in the shadows, while Jace Strauss Ballesteros was condemned for nothing but being in the student leader position. We remember how the real perpetrators never faced the full responsibility of justice—because that would mean confronting the institution's own failures. And it's easier to sacrifice one than dismantle an entire system, isn't it?

Hazing didn't kill anyone that night. Blame did. Silence did.

"Ma'am, hindi puwedeng—"

Pero wala akong pakialam. Naglakad ako, patakbo halos, hindi alintana ang sigaw ng nurse sa likod ko. Walang pakialam kung may bumabangga sa'kin, kung may nagtitinginan. Hindi ko na alam kung paano ako nakarating dito, hindi ko na maalala kung paano tumawid ng kalsada, paano dumaan sa reception.

Pagpasok ko sa morgue parang tumigil ang mundo ko.

"Jace..." My voice cracked, barely a whisper.

May gumalaw sa gilid ng paningin ko. Pastor Francis. Nanatili siyang nakatayo sa kabilang banda ng kwarto, tahimik, hindi ako tinitingnan. Naninikip ang dibdib ko sa sobrang bigat ng ekspresyon niya—walang luha, walang galit. Para bang kahit siya, hindi rin matanggap na ang anak niya ang nasa harap namin ngayon.

Halos hindi ko namalayan na gumagalaw na ang kamay ko. Nanginginig ang daliri ko habang unti-unting hinila pababa ang telang nakatakip sa mukha niya. Dahan-dahan ay napaatras ako. 

"H-Hindi..." Nanginginig ang tuhod ko, tinakpan ko ang bibig ko, pilit pinipigilan ang sigaw na gustong kumawala. "Hindi... pwede... gumising ka d'yan... "

Pero hindi ko kinaya. Hinawakan ko ang balikat niya, niyugyog ko siya, pilit siyang ginigising. "Jace!" I screamed his name hoping he'd wake up .

But he did'nt. Wala na talaga siya.

Mabigat na hagulgol ko at ang tahimik na iyak ni Pastor Francis ang nagmayani sa buong silid. Parang akong isang batang nawalan ng tahanan.

"Hindi puwede 'to. Jace, please, hindi puwedeng iniwan mo ako ng ganito..."

Hinawakan ko ulit ang kamay ni Jace, ipinatong sa pisngi ko, pero malamig na. Hindi na ito 'yung kamay na dati, mahigpit na humahawak sa'kin tuwing natatakot ako.

"Paano naman ako?"

Umiiyak na ako nang tuluyan.

Mental health experts have long warned about the consequences of institutional neglect. A study by the National Mental Health Institute states that wrongful accusations, social isolation, and public shaming significantly increase the risk of depression and suicidal ideation, particularly among young adults. Jace was no exception—he was abandoned, condemned, and stripped of his future, all for the sake of the school's reputation.

And now, two years later, the school still stays quiet, hoping we'll forget. Hoping we'll move on, just like they did. But how do you move on from something like this? How do you reconcile the fact that an innocent man is dead, not because of what he did, but because of what they did to him?

Sa harap ng kabaong, humakbang si Pastor Francis palapit. Nakayuko, hawak ang maliit na Bibliya sa nanginginig niyang kamay. Hindi ko alam kung paano ko siya titingnan. I saw his shoulders stiffen, like he was holding something back. His breathing uneven.

"Jace, anak... patawarin mo ako." Tuluyan siyang bumagsak sa harapan ni Jace.

Halos hindi ko marinig ang boses niya sa sobrang hina. His hands clutched the edge of the casket. His fingers trembling and his whole body is shaking.

"Patawarin mo ako, anak..."

That was the moment that broke me. Napatakip ako ng kamay sa bibig, pilit tinatago ang hikbi, pero wala iyong silbi.

He wasn't a pastor right now. He wasn't the man na laging kalmado, laging may sagot galing sa bibliya, laging nakangiti sa harap ng tao.

He was just a father. A father who lost his son.

My chest tightened so painfully. Pastor Francis let out another choked sob. Nakapatong ang noo niya sa kabaong ni Jace.

"Diyos ko... ano'ng plano Mo?"

Basag na basag ang boses ni Pastor Francis habang unti-unting lumuhod sa harap ng kabaong ni Jace. Nanginginig ang balikat niya, mahigpit ang kapit sa gilid ng casket na parang doon siya kumukuha ng lakas para hindi tuluyang mabuwal.

"Ano'ng kasalanan ng anak ko para ganito ang maging kapalit?" Umangat ang boses niya, galit, desperado.

Tahimik ang buong chapel, pero para sa'kin, umaalingawngaw ang bawat salita niya.

"Sabi ko sa kanya, magtiwala Siya sa'Yo." Mahina na lang ang boses niya ngayon, bumubulong sa kawalan. "Sabi ko, may dahilan Ka... may plano Ka... Sabi Mo, hindi Mo pababayaan ang mga anak Mo." His voice cracked, and I watched as his shoulders trembled. "Bakit hindi Mo siya pinigilan, Diyos ko?" His voice shattered, barely a whisper.

Lahat ng bakit niya ay walang sumagot. Walang kahit anong tunog kundi ang pag-iyak niya. And something inside me broke even more. Because I had asked the same thing. At kahit ako hindi ko alam ang sagot.

Mas mahina ang tinig niya, isang bulong na halos hindi na marinig. "Bakit hindi na lang ako?" At doon na siya tuluyang bumigay.

I wanted to move, to reach out, to say something. Pero paano? Wala namang salitang kayang bumuhay ng patay.

Tumigil ang pag-type ko. Napapikit ako, forcing myself to breathe, pero parang may pumipiga sa puso ko.

Wala namang salitang kayang bumuhay ng patay.

The thought crept in so suddenly, my fingers froze above the keyboard. What was I even doing? Ano pa nga bang silbi nito? I stared at the last paragraph I had just typed.

We demand answers. We demand accountability—not for Jace, because it's too late for him—but for the next student who might be forced to carry a blame that isn't theirs. For the next life that might be lost to silence.

The real question is how many more will it take before they finally admit the truth? Two years later, we are still waiting.

Would these words change anything?

Would this editorial rewrite the past? Mabubura ba nito ang mga headlines na sumira sa kaniya? Mababalik ba nito si Jace? O ginagawa ko lang 'to dahil hindi ko matanggap na wala na akong magawa?

Paulit-ulit kong binabasa ang mga salitang naisulat ko, pero sa isang iglap, lumabo ang tingin ko. The letters on the screen twisted into something unreadable, blurred by the sting in my eyes. Napapikit ako nang mariin, pilit tinataboy ang init na namuo sa gilid ng mata ko, pero wala akong magawa. It was too much. It was all too much.

Mabilis kong isinara ang laptop. My hands felt disconnected from my body—mga daliri kong nanginginig, palad kong nanlalamig. My chest tightened, every breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Mas lalo lang akong kinapos ng hangin. Mas lalo lang bumigat ang dibdib ko.

Hindi ako makahinga.

I tried pero walang hangin. Parang may nakadagan sa dibdib ko, pinipigilan akong huminga. The walls felt like they were closing in, the room spinning in a disorienting blur. My heart pounded violently against my ribs, and I gripped the desk, pero hindi ako makakapit nang maayos.

Oh, God. Why?

I gasped again pero wala. My lungs burned, not just from the lack of air, but from the pain of everything I refused to acknowledge. My mind screamed at me to breathe, but my body wouldn't listen.

Nanginginig ang kamay ko, pilit kong inaabot ang keyboard, pero wala na akong makita. Parang may pumipigil sa dibdib ko—parang may pumipiga. Parang may naglalagay ng toneladang bigat sa loob ng katawan ko, at hindi ko na kaya, hindi ko na kaya.

Breathe, Rayne. Please. Breathe.

Hindi ko na namalayang bumukas ang pinto ng office. Someone entered but I didn't know who it was.

"Rayne," a voice called out.

Isang pamilyar na boses ang tumawag sa akin. Puno iyon ng pag-aalala. Hanggang ilang sandali ay may malamig na kamay na pumigil sa mga daliri kong nakakapit sa dibdib ko. 

"Hey, hey... look at me."

I tried to look at the person in front of me. Kinapa ko kung nasaan siya. Madilim ang paningin ko. Hindi ko siya makita. Sobrang bilis ng pintig ng puso ko at parang hindi ko na kayang habulin ang sariling paghinga. 

"Please, just breathe." 

I was trying. God, I was trying.

At sa pagitan ng lahat ng 'yon, sa pagitan ng takot at sakit at lungkot na bumabalot sa akin, I saw him. Nakita ko si Jace. Nakatayo siya sa harapan ko, 'yung buhok niyang laging magulo, 'yung ekspresyon niyang laging may halong biro. He looked at me with quiet sadness.

"Rayne."

Hindi ko alam kung siya pa rin ba 'yung tumatawag sa akin. Hindi ko na mahanap kung saan nanggagaling ang boses. Basta nakita ko siyang lumapit, dahan-dahan pero hindi ko siya maabot. Hindi ko siya mahabol. Wala akong magawa. He was slipping away.

Pinilit kong igalaw ang kamay ko pero parang may kung anong pumipigil sa akin. Hindi siya nagsalita. Hindi siya gumalaw. Nakatayo lang siya ro'n, watching me, waiting. At doon ko napansin na may luha sa mga mata niya.

"Jace, wait—"

Pinilit kong lumapit sa kaniya pero bago ko pa maabot ang braso niya mabilis siyang nilamon ng dilim. Then suddenly, everything was too loud. The pounding in my ears, the pressure in my chest, the lingering image of Jace... Jace is fading like a smoke.

Napasinghap ako. I saw his eyes first. Deep, desperate, and pleading. Tumulo ang luha ko nang makita ko ang lalaking nasa harapan ko.

"I'm here," he whispered, his voice were barely audible. "I'm here, okay? Just breathe, Rayne! Breathe... Just—please, breathe." Panic was written in his eyes.

Pero hindi ko kaya. "I... I can't," I choked out, my voice barely above a whisper.

Nanginginig ang buong katawan ko, muli unti-unting nanlalabo na naman ang paningin ko. Every inhale felt like a battle. I was slipping again—falling into something dark, something suffocating.

"Shit, Rayne!"he cursed, voice laced with panic. Pumikit siya, hinigpitan ang hawak sa akin, and then—

He did something I didn't expect.

He cupped my face gently yet still firm. Ramdam ko ang init ng mga palad niya. He tilted my head up and kissed me.

Sandali lamang iyon. His lips barely brushed against mine pero sapat iyon para hilahin ako pabalik sa realidad.

Ramdam na ramdam ko ang hininga at ang bahagyang panginginig ng labi niya. It wasn't a kiss meant to be anything more than this—a lifeline, a desperate way to tell me to stay.

At sa kung anong dahilan, gumana iyon.

Nash didn't move. Barely an inch away, hinayaan lang niyang manatili ang mga kamay niya sa mukha ko, hinayaan akong hanapin ang sarili kong paghinga.

"Now, breathe," he murmured. "Slowly."

I tried. Swallowed hard.

Nararamdaman ko pa rin ang init ng palad niya, ang paraan ng hinlalaki niyang bahagyang humahaplos sa gilid ng pisngi ko. My breathing was still unstable, but I was in control now.

Pero ang hindi ko kayang kontrolin ay ang luha ko. A single tear slipped down my cheek.

Nash's brows furrowed, his thumbs instinctively wiped the tear away kahit may kasunod na agad iyon, and another, and another, until I was completely breaking apart in front of him.

"Rayne..."

Hindi ko alam kung bakit niya ako tinawag. Hindi ko rin alam kung anong hinahanap niya sa mga mata ko. Pero hindi ako makatingin sa kanya nang diretso.

May hinahanap siya sa mga mata ko, pero hindi ko kayang tingnan siya nang diretso.

He exhaled shakily, shaking his head. "Shit. I'm sorry."

I blinked at him.

He dropped his hands, pero hindi siya lumayo. He just... stayed.

"I just... I didn't know what else to do."  He explained. "You weren't looking at me. I called you over and over pero parang hindi mo ako naririnig. You were shaking so bad, I just—I panicked, Rayne."

His lips parted like he wanted to say more, pero agad siyang napailing, running his hand through his hair. "I swear, I wasn't trying to—"

I should've said something. Umiling ako trying to hold back the sob building in my throat. Pero kahit anong pilit kong pigilan, hindi ko kayang itanggi. I should push him away.

But I didn't. Because I missed him. God, I missed him.

Mula sa paraan niyang tingnan ako ngayon, like I was something fragile, something he wanted to hold together kahit siya mismo, basag na rin. On the way he always stayed, no matter how many times I pushed him away. I missed how easily he could calm me down, how his presence alone made me feel like I wasn't completely drowning.

And that realization hurt more than anything. Dahil hindi ko dapat hinahanap ang presensya niya. He wrote the words that ruined Jace. He was part of the storm that wrecked me.

Pero bakit siya pa rin ang nakakakalma sa'kin kahit siya ang dahilan kung bakit ako hindi makahinga?

"Rayne..."

Napasinghap ako nang marinig ko ulit ang pangalan ko mula sa kanya. My vision blurred with tears again and for a second, hindi ko na alam kung galit ba ako sa kanya o mas galit ako sa sarili ko dahil hindi magawang itulak siya palayo.

His face was laced with concern. His hands hovered on me like he wanted to reach for me again pero hindi niya alam kung dapat ba niyang gawin. Hindi ako sumagot. I just shook my head, biting my lip to keep a sob from escaping.

Muling lumambot ang tingin niya.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, barely above a whisper. "Kung hindi mo pa kayang magsalita, okay lang. I'm here."

Parang may kamay na pumisil sa puso ko dahil sa sinabi niya. Hindi ko na alam kung paano itatago 'yung emosyon na sunod-sunod kong naramdaman. Hindi ko na kinaya. Ang sikip sa dibdib, parang hindi ako makahinga. Kusa nang nanginig 'yung balikat ko, at bago ko pa mapigilan, tumulo na 'yung luha ko.

Wala akong nagawa kundi isubsob ang mukha ko sa mga kamay ko habang pinipigil ang paghikbi ko. Baka sakaling mabawasan yung sakit kapag walang ibang nakakarinig. Pero hindi iyon ganon ang kadali. It seeps into you, fills every hollow space in your chest, until it's the only thing you can feel. Hindi siya mawawala dahil lang walang nakakakita. 

Tahimik lang si Nash sa tabi ko. Hindi niya ako pinilit magsalita. Hindi niya ako tinanong kung bakit hinayaan kong humantong ang sarili ko sa ganito. Wala siyang sinabi o ginawang kahit ano para pigilan akong tuluyang bumigay.

Hinayaan niya akong umiyak hanggang sa wala nang luha. Hindi niya sinubukang pagaanin ang loob ko. Hinayaan niya akong ilabas ang lahat. Kahit na sa kanya ko naibuhos ang galit na hindi niya dapat akuin. He just stayed. He stood there, took everything I threw at him, and waited. Like he always does.

After the rain, everyone leaves eventually. Everyone runs for shelter, wipes away the remnants of the storm, and pretends it never happened.

Nash never left and I hated him for it.

Dahil kung iniwan niya rin ako tulad ng iba, siguro mas madali kong maitatanggi kung gaano ko pa rin siya kailangan. Kung gaano ko pa rin siya gustong manatili.