Moonlight Curse: The Hunger

Chapter 1

Another ordinary post Valentine's Day morning in the life of one girl named Maria Rapisura Crisanto. That's me! Call me Maya, please. It's more liberated, just like the personality I am trying to emulate. Maybe calling me by my nickname, I can shed my "manang" vibes (older lady vibes) and dive into the zest pool of girls my age "livin' la vida loca" (living the crazy life), just like Ricky Martin's song.

By the way, I am 25 years old, still broken hearted, single and emotionally unstable at the moment. Yap, I had no Valentine's date. No need to rub the wounds with salt, pepper, and perhaps with a little bit of vinegar, "Cook it, Paksiw-style!" (A Filipino dish cooked with mainly vinegar and salt.) These are some of the pathetic reasons why I needed to revamp the old me.

The old Maria was an Accountant who wore thick-rimmed eyeglasses, had long black hair tied in a tight ponytail. And wore to work only the following outfit:  below-the-knee length, A-line skirt, long-sleeved blouse and a pair of ugly black loafers. She was the epitome of the typical librarian who was an old maid and a bitter b***h on the inside.

Described by my colleagues to be a young Anna Roces then, but because of my ballooning weight and daily conservative ensemble, I now resemble a more mature Rosanna Roces. And so, I decided to reinvent myself and be spared from the daily criticism and ridicules of my tactless office mates and friends.

So, the new and improved Maya is still an Accountant by profession, but now wears a pair of amethyst colored contact lenses, rocks a re-bonded, short, layered hairdo with gold highlights and bangs, has shaved and defined eyebrows, loves a red MAC lipstick, models a black Topshop mini-skirts, still keeps wearing her long-sleeved shirts (those are ZARAs anyways) and struts along Ayala Avenue with a pair of knee-high, black leather boots from ALDO. I transformed from a cat lady into Cat Woman.

My morning would usually start with the loud angry barks of my 2 Shih-Tzu dogs. They meant, "Let us out!" So, I stood up with half-closed eyes to open the door so Paw (2 year-old male) and Macy (5 year-old female) could get out to the terrace to take care of their morning businesses. I then groped for my pair of thick eyeglasses (I'm almost blind) and started out towards the kitchen.

My apartment is a studio-type room, so 5 steps lead to the kitchen from my bed, 2 steps lead to the bathroom from the kitchen. Thank God, it has a terrace which is also my dining, laundry and smoking areas all in one. This is the city life, we, the working girls from the province traded in for the open-spaced farm lands, houses with front and backyards, and split-type houses with more than two bedrooms and bathrooms. And not to mention, the fresher air, quieter surroundings, cleaner streets and friendlier neighbors.

I chose my profession to be on the safe side. For me, being an accountant means security and constant brain draining action to render me unconscious when time for sleep comes. It's routinely boring as hell and so the inactivity made me overweight, except for my fingers which are the only parts of my body required to move by punching calculators and keyboards. Being an accountant nowadays becomes more computerized and with an advanced system, one click means a report done. I am safe in the four corners of my small cubicle facing my 2 monitored-computer. Meals are take-outs or just a phone call away. From a size extra small, I became a size large. It became a yearly joke for me whenever we go to our annual physical examination, final result always indicated - consult for weight management - OVERWEIGHT.

My parents, aunts and uncles encouraged me or should I say, they actually pushed me away to leave home. They were that "happy" to give me independence and freedom to be whoever I wanted to be. I know you sensed my sarcasm.

Anyway, since my parents put me and my three siblings up to college and had Bachelor degrees so why not use it instead of living the life of our ancestors. Though my brothers do that as their full time jobs now despite being Civil Engineers and my sister, a Registered Nurse is still active on a part-time basis.

But for me, my life as a Rapisura (My mom's maiden name) was over, though not by choice. I totally embraced my Crisanto blood and followed the old life of my father. He was a bookkeeper for a government agency until he met my mother, a rare beauty from the north and a wild tigress, a hard one to tame. My father, as meek as a lamb, threw himself in the arena to be sacrificed. But instead, the tigress took pity and they fell madly in love. It was another story to be told though.

Now, even my young nieces and nephews were receiving the kind of training we had when I and my siblings were as young as seven years old. I was told that Meg, the older of my 2 nieces is just as fierce as my sister in her younger years. While my youngest niece, Marie (yes, they named her after me) is more like me, a bookworm and more likely to follow my footsteps soon enough... academically and professionally only, I hoped.

My childhood was nothing but ordinary, I'm sure you guessed that by now. Unlike most kids whose summer vacations were full of excitement, fun and games. While my summer memories consisted of training, jobs, lessons, lectures, research and body aches.

You must think my family is dirt poor. Nah, actually, the Rapisura clan own acres of farmlands and fishponds in Ilocos Sur. We have a huge ancestral house there which is named "Villa Maria", after a great great great (and so on and on, yeah that old!) grandmother in a barrio where all my mother's relatives live called Barrio Ulimek, while my parents have a huge farm in our hometown, Tuguegarao City in Cagayan Valley. That's where my parents raised us. And my Papa has shares in his family's farms in Nueva Vizcaya down to Tarlac. So, we are pretty much well-off.

But since our Rapisura ancestors were hardworking and devoted to their crafts, their children and grandchildren were raised and trained the same way.

No complaints. I became a better person because of that kind of upbringing.

Looking at myself in the mirror, all set up for work made me realize, "I am no longer the old Maria Rapisura Crisanto. Here and now, I am the new Maya Crisanto." I sighed, smiled at myself and headed out for the door before reminding Paw and Macy to only pee on the newspapers inside the bathroom floor. Also, like a habit I could and would never cease doing, I bid goodbye to the ether hoping that my message of love would be heard by that one person I cared for the most in my life.