Then I met Nora…
We were both Communication Arts freshmen at the University of the Philippines- Los Banos (UPLB) when I first saw her at one of those teach-ins being conducted by leftist and radical students. She was one of the speakers and I was quite impressed not only of her knowledge on the current political issues but also of her beauty and cool demeanor.
She was with the League of Filipino Students (LFS) while I am a Barbarian! No pun intended though, that’s what they call students who does not belong to any organization in the State College.
After much prodding on my part, we were finally by a mutual associate and instantly became good friends. From then on I was a regular fixture at any LFS activity whether it is rallies and demonstrations in the urban jungle or in the teach-ins in the leftist activists‘“safehouse”. Don’t get me wrong though, for to tell you frankly I was there not because I believed in what they were fighting for but more so because of Nora, the object of my affection. Truth be told, I hate communists for I know that they were no different from the present rulers of the country and were just making noise for their own gain and end.
And then it happened. ..
It was May 1, Labor Day...
We were part of the huge student delegation from UPLB. We were doing the usual activists’ stuff--marching from C.M. Recto Avenue towards Mendiola Bridge in the University Belt in downtown Manila chanting “Makibaka!” and “Down with US Imperialism!”--
All hell broke loose!
People started scampering in different directions. Amid the ensuing confusion and commotion, I managed to get hold of Nora and we started running side by side towards Espana Boulevard. From there we hailed a cab to take us to Sta. Mesa to elude our pursuers.
As we were both soaked by the water from the fire trucks we decided to checked-in at a nearby motel to change only to find out that except for our wallets, we lost all of our belongings in the battle with the riot police.
It was already 9:30 p.m. and since both of us were dead-tired and weary after a long hard day in the streets, we decided to spend the night at the motel. As we lay naked in that room, I smothered her with the pillow and she never had an iota of a chance. I plucked three pubic hairs from her and put it into my wallet to add to my collections. I then pushed myself unto her cold body until I climaxed inside her. I pulled myself up, took a shower and got dressed. Afterwards, I got hold of the towel and wiped the chairs, knobs, glasses, etc. to erase whatever traces of my fingerprints that the police might find in that cheap smoky room.
After an hour of aimless wandering in the mall, I soon found myself aboard a bus bound for Los Banos wondering how I managed to slip out of the hotel unnoticed.
The next day, news spread like wildfire that the young activist, Nora was found dead inside the motel apparently raped before being killed. The left blamed the police for her death and vowed to retaliate to avenge the death of one of their comrades in the hands of the fascists military.
I attended her funeral and spoke about her courage and conviction to uplift the life of her countrymen. The left lionized her as being a true heroine of the people and honored her by naming one of their units after her years later.
As for me, I just went on with my studies as if nothing happened. I was not really surprised that there was not a tinge of guilt in my system on what I have done. Instead it was a sense of pride on what I considered as an achievement.
The last part of the school year proved uneventful until...
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