Malugao - Writer - Cebu City, Philippines

Janelle Malugao

Cebu City, Philippines




An imaginative novice writer who specializes in fantasy and fiction, able to write plays and short stories, or even prose. Also able to write in formal and academic.

Work History

Volunteer Nurse Psychiatric Ward

Negros Oriental Provincial Hospital Extension

From October 2012


Unlimited Network of Opportunities

From July 2010


Standard First Aid

Red Cross - Cebu Chapter


Extraction of blood via venipuncture.

Healthcare Provider

American Heart Association
American Heart Association BLS for Healthcare Providers (CPR and AED) Program – November 2011

Volunteer Nurse

Talay Mental Rehabilitation Center
Negros Oriental Provincial Hospital Extension - Psychiatric Ward

Festival of the Moon


A whisper, normally too soft to hear but she turned, at once recognizing the sound. Her gaze landed on the silhouette of a man standing a few feet away from her. The glowing light from the full moon, filtered by the branches of the trees and towering bushes, descended upon his indistinct visage, casting drifting shadows upon the ground. It was a clear, perfect night for anything extraordinary. It was the night of the Moon Festival.

Beings, invited and uninvited guests, known and unknown, of colorful races and varied species were flocked together in a crowd around them, dancing and laughing in blissful neglect. There was liquor, food, music, and entertainment of literally all kinds. Everyone was dragged into the merriment, visibly enjoying themselves. For this was the time of the month that they separate themselves from the human world, discarding their disguises to expose their true selves for one glorious night.

Yet, despite the overwhelming presence of the crowd, in the eyes of the two, there was no one but her and him.

They moved in a deliberate, almost synchronized motion until at last, they were together in the middle of the forest floor. He was taller than she was and there was a notable firmness of his body, his masculinity unmistakable. She didn’t raise her head to look at his face. Instead her gaze shot through past him, her peripheral vision catching only the shape of his face and his body. She could feel an aura radiating from him, engulfing her in a wary embrace. The aura was strange and uncommon in the forest. It yielded the very definition of caution for not only her but for everyone present in the festival. Yet, instead of being afraid, she was more intrigued. What might he be? A soft wind glided around them and the forest voices whispered the answer. She smiled. Of course.


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Untitled Fairytale

Once upon a time in the land of the Oriental East, there lived a farmer and his son. They were very poor and owned only the thatched hut that they lived in and the one hectare of rice field that they tended. They lived in what was popularly known as the Golden Valley.

One day, the farmer bade his son to get ready for it was time to gather the harvest of their rice field. The boy eagerly put on his wide straw hat and loaded their carabao. Soon, they were trekking the winding path over the hills until they reached their destination.

“It is beautiful, Papa.” The boy exclaimed as he looked in awe at the beauty of rows and rows of golden yellow rice stalks majestically standing within their one hectare of land. The beads of rice seem to glitter under the glorious sun. The rice stalks slightly bent and swayed as the gentle breeze blew across them back and forth.

They went to work. When the sun was already hanging low in the sky, the farmer and his son decided to go home. They carried with them, loaded on the carabao, two sacks of rice. They have managed to sell the rest to the local miller and these two sacks were left for their own provision to last till the next harvest.

Suddenly, there came up them a cloud of dust and the sound of thundering hoofs running at full speed. The farmer and his son quickly sped out of its way in fear of being run over. When the cloud of dust cleared, they saw to their surprise, a soldier lying on the ground. He was unconscious and bloodied as though he have just escaped a fight. The farmer and his son were left with no choice but to bring the poor soldier back to their home.

For days they tended to the soldier until at last he regained enough strength. They asked him who he was but he would not answer.

The time finally came when the soldier had to go on his way.

“I thank you for your hospitality.” His voice almost broke as he said this for he had never experienced such kindness before. The farmer nodded and embraced the estranged soldier. “Here,” he said, offering the solder a small sack of rice. “I have heard that famine has broken all over the country. Our land is blessed to have not been struck with it. We would like to share our blessings with you.”

The soldier shook his head. Taking this kind gift would dwindle their already meager provision of rice. He refused but the farmer would not hear him. “Your kindness will someday be repaid,” said the soldier in the end, bringing the sack of rice with him.

The boy turned to his father as soon as the soldier was gone. “That was wonderful what you did, Papa.” The farmer hugged him. “From what you sow, you will reap.”

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Qualifications & Certifications

Bachelor of Science in Nursing

Silliman University

Zamboanga del Sur National High School main campus- DOST

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