Death of a Spinster

October 21, 2017

9:25 PM

Bedroom

Jaeden Lieberher… aww!

          I’ve been obsessing over Jaeden Lieberher lately. I dunno why! It’s crazy! And creepy at the same time (I know! He’s only 14 years old!) Probably it’s not really him, but his characters. I’ve watched The Book of Henry a few days ago, and now I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I know it’s weird, but I have an obsession with genius people/characters. I remember obsessing over The Hidden Figures as well, so possibly it’s not just the actors, but the characters they portray. Now, I am watching IT which stars Jaeden Lieberher as well. Just a coincidence! LOL!

Her last stares…

          My mother woke me up today to tell me that our neighbor died last night. I saw her last Friday being taken by the ambulance. She was still able to walk, but she sure looked weak. She was emaciated. Her sister assisted her because she could barely walk. I didn’t expect it would be the last time I’d be seeing her. Some of our neighbors were there as well. She was just living right in front of our house, so it was impossible not to pry when I saw an ambulance in front of their house that Friday afternoon when I just got home from work.

          We were not really close. In fact, we haven’t really talked. We’ve been neighbors for almost 20 years, but we never got the chance to have at least a small conversation. We’ve known for a while that she was diagnosed with breast cancer, but from what we heard, she refused medical attention. She was a spinster, and we’ve been calling her LAON (Old Maid) for as long as I can remember. I didn’t even know her real name was Rose. I’ll never get used to calling her Auntie Rose or something. Guess she would always be LAON for me. She died on her way to Isulan. She died inside the Ambulance.

          Last summer, one of our neighbors also died. It just seems different that I will never get to see them again. Though I was not close to them, but I guess their presence would always be missed. The way they would walk past our house, or the way they greet our mother – those small things, I dunno, it makes me feel sad that it will never happen again.