The Ghost of Amara

Evan Reeves stared at the hard bound volume of Supreme Court Reports Annotated. This semester, their professor had this glorious idea to assign them each a law system to study. There's this clashing black and white of United States' Federal and State Law. Israel's hybrid system blending English Common Law, Ottoman Law, and religious law. And to his luck he was assigned with the Philippines' justice system that is by the way– an almost mirror of the latter's country in terms of complexity. With a thump akin to a jangle of pound coins– no words truer than that with his wallet looking like it came out from the gym, he laid the atrociously expensive book down the table facing him and began taking out his laptop, pens, and notebook from his bag. There's a quiet murmur of the latest gossip in the background where the other students who came to the library of St. Mary University for the sole reason of it being a silent place enough for them to share their gossip with their friends without the fear of confrontation from their subject at hand- whoever that may be, Evan doesn't care. It's exactly the reason why he often seeks out the library, and yet these imbeciles have a different use for this said quietness. With upturned lips, he took out his earbuds as well and plugged them in. This instantly muted the surrounding sound. He connected the small device to his computer and began watching the lecture presentation of their professor who warned its students to watch out for a case digest that will be mentioned at an unknown timestamp in the video. This isn't the first time that their prof did that. It is often his way of keeping his students in line and making sure that they actually watch his lectures. For 30 minutes, the light from the laptop bounces off his sleek, meticulous, and sharp features. It wasn't hard to see that he's a beacon in the eyes. Be it the way he commands the room when he speaks, or the way his eyes would click in that calculating gaze. Impassive as he is, others won't deny that his intelligence is his strongest appeal. From time to time, few too many eyes would find their self latched on his face only to quickly avert them away in fear of getting caught. If he notices? They wouldn't know, because this man has far too much debate in his mind to actually pay attention to his surroundings. He stared long and hard on his screen, lost in thought. Their professor wants them to make a case digest about a crime committed through mitigating circumstances. Well, a crime of passion or obfuscation is an example. All he is to do now is look for a related case in SCRA. Flipping through the pages, the shrill-sturdy sound of paper filled the air. He stopped at GR No. 211159- "Passion and obfuscation as a mitigating circumstance need not be felt only in the seconds before the commission of the crime. It may build up and strengthen over time until it can no longer be repressed and will ultimately motivate the commission of the crime. This is a review of the Decision[1] dated January 29, 2013 of the Court of Appeals which affirmed the conviction of accused-appellant Marcelino Oloverio (Oloverio) of murder and sentenced him to reclusion perpetua and the payment of civil indemnity and damages." A case where the accused caused the instantaneous death of a man named Gulane who allegedly "mock" the accused of having incestuous relationship with its mother. On top of that, Lamoste- their town chieftain, has knowledge of the accused's daughter confiding to its father that the said victim has "wanted" to touch her private parts. Seems maddening enough because after all this fact the accused is still charged with murder, albeit the penalty being lesser than the original because he surrendered himself to the authority, its still disheartening. Evan just shook his head. Having four years studying in law, he now knows that no matter how good your intention is, when its against the law, its against the law. It feels like the system doesn't permit human emotions to act at irreverence caused by others. While some might say its an overboard taking one's life- yes, but isn't the victim also drew his own machete? If the situation was reversed and the victim has the advantage, would he stop at all to think through his actions? He frowned. Remembering something of a similar situation like that. Yes, if situations were indeed reversed would they stop to reflect on their actions and its consequences? Would they change their view? Or it wouldn't even matter because society has this way of branding someone as "forever good" and the "eternally bad" who won't ever change. It's hard to fight against stigmatizing when people have already decided what they thought of you. It's like trying to uproot a mountain in its place. Unmoving. Contemptuous. And downright unfair. Without thinking, Evans' fingers slide down the crisp page of his notebook to feel the bulge protruding because of a certain page. Going there, he stopped to admire the dried forget-me-not flower taped in the middle of the page. Tracing the name looped below it, he reminisce the vivid image of her. Like the wilted flower before him, his forget-me-not ironically already forgotten about him. The only remaining thing holding it together is the blue tape still holding on. Why can't she? Letting out a breath, he stood up to search for another case that he could possibly use for the assignment. He left his laptop and things in the table as he won't be long in searching for what he's looking for, being a regular occupant of the place has its perks. Afterall, they won't be stupid enough to steal something from a law student– and from HIM as a matter of fact. With a purposeful stride, Evan walked the narrow aisle of bookshelves of science and law section to access the 'Special International Collection' shelf. While they do have those books in here, it would be much more practical to own one rather than borrow from the library where you cannot jot down notes to it. Besides, the one's in here is not even an updated version, but it will do. The alley of hard bound papers gracing the floor of the victorian architecture of the library seems like the night in Vincent van Gogh's painting– one cannot compliment the other without one. Although for Evan, this artistic place appeals more like a park during dawn. Warm, nostalgic, and serene. Not until a figure slams into him and into the floor. "Oh shite!" the figure, who's holding a coffee by the way– scrambled to gather its flashcards containing notes. "Oh no, its soaked!" the figure said, and looked up. He sneered. Dark blue tunic, green nursing lanyard, and a demeanor akin to a scrambled chicken–a typical lower year. "Who even taught you that bringing a COFFEE to a library is okay?" he said monotonously. "Well I... I um" the auburn-haired girl stuttered out to which he abruptly cut off by stepping over her coffee-soaked notes, in the coffee-stained floors. The girl looked utterly hopeless behind the retreating figure of the man. Clumsy girl! What kind of an i***t brings coffee to a library! Very typical of lower years tsk. Grabbing the book out of the shelf with unnecessary aggression, Evan recalled how stupid the girl look. And in order to avoid the mess that he is sure is still in the floor, he purposefully avoided that route and took the longer way back to his table. Great! Just Great!