Dear Vicky,

Am happy I found you once again. I have to admit I felt a bit sad when you said your adieu, but knowing you, you'd pop somewhere else. Or in this case, an already-familiar place.

Had my first class with J. Some familiar faces, one of which you know already. And no, I couldn't muster the courage to tell her the book stinks. (Methinks she'll be the saving grace of the class.) I have to admit that the source of the blurbs are too much of a giveaway.

As I already guessed, it'll be a tough class, reading-wise and teacher-wise. Am reminded of I., my old CL 100 teacher. Not too generous with grades, but I certainly (and G., the other familiar face, ex-CL 100 classmate in '97) remember the lessons too well. Sadly, I am also reminded how she is sorely missed.

Like I said, am happy to find you once again. Your presence has always been home to me, something familiar and safe, a reminder of what you'll be always to me. Thank you for listening. I still wonder, had I told you the entire story, would it have changed what you told me with such conviction? Knowing you, I suppose not. About the final solution, it would need enormous courage from me. If I had it my way, buried past remains buried. I suppose I could've reacted more calmly last night. Timing was so off, a verbal altercation, resignation, the unexplainable. But how I dread the past when it creeps up every now and then. I have to watch my phone ring, the all-too-familiar number glaring in front of me. Have to turn it upside down, make it go away by itself.

It does go away, somehow.

Where I found you, you screamed and screamed. Believe me, I did that too. In my head. In my heart. I am disgusted, believe me. I scream with you. But then, after the deafening echoes and everything settles down, that little door called hope demands to be opened, even if merely ajar. I can only ease the disgust with something called karmic debt.

Ismene could only issue a whimper. Antigone prefers to shout.