The Violence Class

Wearing a red blouse and dashing as usual, she met me at the entrance of one of the biggest buildings on that avenue. The place is the biggest TV Network in the Philippines, ABS-CBN. I remember I was in a violent effort asking for her autograph while the security guards around just kept pushing the barricades to avoid a stampede as there was a mob. Everybody was just so dying to hold a piece of her popular figure.

Her name is Korina Sanchez, one of the best Newscasters in the Philippines in the actual world. Idolizing her could have been the reason why she had a special participation in my dreams. She had this smile like she was very eager to take me to the newsroom and give me some tour around. I was blabbering how much of a fanatic I was when she noticed me earlier at the entrance with the big crowd of people dying to get her autograph and sense of her fame.

She asked me to join her and gave me a pat on the back as we entered the building. I never got the reaction of the other people when we left the outdoor. She said she was giving me a tour for the privilege of meeting one of her fans. The baggage counter did ask to inspect my bag(my backpack again) before getting on the elevator.

As we got on the the upper floor of the building, we entered what seemed like a library. The area was divided into two, near the entrance of the floor were students quietly studying their lessons and after the wooden divider was a group of what seemed like Russian students because of their milky complexion and their semi-blonde hair. I think they were highschool students. It was a big class and to my estimate, there were around sixty of them all seated around several long wooden desks, each of them holding a rifle, and familiarizing themselves with the parts of the rifle and the proper handling skills.

Their instructor was a plomp guy whose countenance resembled that of Dumbledoor. He was busy and intensely teaching the students the importance of war and how necessary it is to be violent for survival while telling them to look at the big TV set or what might have been a projector.

My eyes were fastened at the class that I forgot Korina had been calling me to enter her booth. "You know, I really wanted you to appear on primetime news because you deserve to be there than the current news anchor at that time slot." "Too bad I had to follow the directive of the executives here," she said. "There are already plans for me going back to the primetime slot and you should just wait," she added.

I couldn't just resist looking at the big TV set outside the booth as Korina started explaining the basics of the console. I was immersed into a scene by the seaside, where three Russian teens were snowballing so hard that each of them had bloody faces. The instructor of the Violence Class kept reminding his students to emulate such acts. In a wink of an eye, I was totally immersed as I was on the boob tube.

I was spying the three teens hurling balled wads of snow onto each other under a vague kind of tree. I moved my eyes upward and I saw another Russian teen in the tree with a giant sling shot aiming at the other three down there. He was half naked, without any underwear as I could see his shrunk dick between his balls. I tried to squeeze myself under the tree because of fear that he might just make me his target. When I looked at the three teens again by the seaside, they were all dead piled up onto each other, the blood stains all over their bodies and the snow made the scene so gory.

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