A/N: Written in memory of the victims of the Quirino Grandstand Hostage earlier today. A policeman took a tour bus hostage earlier. People died, the rest were traumatized and the policeman was shot down by snipers. People would NOT have died if the police had handled it better. By that I meant not taking the policeman's brother hostage in turn to make him surrender and piss him off to make him trigger happy. Many of us Filipinos were outraged by this, so not only is our country getting crap from other countries, but from it's own people as well.
As a Filipino, I apologize for the treatment these victims had faced. I had a wonderful time in HK last December and was very sad that it had turned out this way for them.
August 23, 2010
To The Hong Kong Special Administrative Region of the People's Republic of China
I don't believe I can call you by your name so casually after what happened today. I don't think I can face you at all for a while. I don't even have the right to contact you. Hey did you look through your facebook account? Rumors have been flying around left and right ranging from banning my children from your house to outright declaring war on me. They even got China and South Korea involved. No, they were involved. And you…
I'm sorry.
It's fine if you don't forgive me now, or ever. I understand. I've hurt you. I've hurt your children. By my own police for the love of-
You can stick firecrackers down my pants if it makes you even a bit happier. I don't mind. You deserve to do more.
I'm ashamed. I can't even laugh at what I wrote earlier. You've taken in my children with open arms, and in return I've hurt yours.
I'm sorry.
I remember the last time I visited. I loved your airport. Considering that all I can see were glass walls, the storms it faced were unbelievable. We rode the Tram to Victoria Peak. You showed me around Harbor City. The light show was spectacular; I couldn't believe that you did them every night. I nagged you to take me to Disneyland. The fireworks made me cry. I was as if that was the last time I'll get to watch it. I guess now it really was.
I had such a wonderful time during my stay there. And yet I couldn't even take your children to the mall and bring them back to you without inducing mental trauma. Nobody had to die. I kept telling myself that it would be alright, that no one would get hurt, that we can settle this peacefully, and then I'll say sorry to you and after a few weeks we'll laugh about it while watching dolphins dance around in Ocean Park.
But no.
They died. They got hurt. And not just you, even China and South Korea. Because I was a coward. I couldn't hurt one of my own. I pretended that it'd be okay, and now…
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry I couldn't save them in time.
I'm sorry I scared them.
I'm sorry I couldn't give all of them back to you.
I'm sorry I couldn't be a hero like America.
I'm sorry I couldn't be like England when it comes to these things.
I'm sorry I got scared.
I'm sorry for being a coward.
I'm sorry for hurting them.
I'm sorry for hurting you.
I'm sorry.
But I guess, after all that, I don't even have the right to say sorry. Not if even my own children can't forgive me.
Respectfully yours,
The Republic of the Philippines
Philippines stared at the letter he wrote on the desk.
Not even my own children can forgive me.
He shut down his computer, turned off the lights on his office, went to the parking lot, started the engine on his car, and then headed for the Quirino Grandstand.
A crumpled tearstained letter lay forgotten in the wastebasket under his desk.
