
Losing Hope
FRANCES MARIE G. IGNALAGA/ The Flame
She laid on her bed as the monotonous voice from the recorded lecture filled her silent room. At this point, she could no longer make sense of her professor's words as exhaustion began to weigh her down. She stared blankly at the ceiling, letting her thoughts drift about in that darkly lit room.
She could barely remember what motivation felt like. Back then, she was always eager for what was to come. But now, the future no longer seemed as bright as it used to be.
As she turned away from the ceiling, her eyes hovered over the shelf filled with books she no longer desired to read. They stood among various trinkets of memories she kept all these years: a jar of decorative rocks, an unopened deck of tarot cards, a badly sculpted bar made of soap, ...