It was 5:00 o'clock in the morning when the sun solemnly unveiled nature's exquisite panorama. I was shivering and crouching in my bedsheet as the frostly blow of the wind struts all over my room. The nippy breeze gently touches my face and teases me with an embrace that struck my deepest bone.
I suddenly woke up with my eyes heaavy from sleep, feeling worn out for my incomeplete rest. I have no choice even though I hate to get up early, since I need to double-time working on my research paper about the efffects of bad influences to young people, I only have three days left to finish it.
Just as soon as I was able to adapt to the tranquility of the cracking of dawn, I fixed my bed and turned to my computer and switched it on. A piece of paper caught my attention while I was downloading the web page in the computer. It was a note from my parents.
Enzo!
Your dad and I were so worried about you, you've been so busy with your daily endeavors this past few days. We seldom see you at home, is there anything wrong? Do you have a problem? Please tell us... I hope we could talk to each other on Saturday. We love you son! Mom & Dad
These words lingered in my head while I pensively stare at the note I gripped on my right hand. For quite a few moments I found myself in a deep trance too much stuff ran at the back of my head. It took a few more minutes before I retrieved my perception. I flatly leaned back against my chair as the piece of paper I was holding fell from my grasp. I was a sort of enlightment and rebuked by my own conscience. I've been busy enough with my studies and friends, and spent lots of my time with them enjoying their company than staying home with my own family. I arrive very late at night and wake up late in the morning especially when I have no assignments to work on. And since my parents ae both working as government employees, they have to go to their offices early, giving me no chance of talking to each other. There were times taht we just meet twice a week and that became a routine for me.
But now that my parents had already called my attention I guess I have to talk to them and express my apology on Saturday.
Four hours later, I found myself at the entrance of our classroom at the Engineering Building. I was about to enter the room when I saw my strict instructress giving her lecture to my classmates. I took an instinctive step backward to avoid her reprimands, reckoning my habitual late arrival in her class. By this time I don't want to be embarrassed again so I just decided to stay outside and watch the construction going on at the inner court.
As I was observantly gazing at one of the construction workers, I couldn't help but think about the great chances of an accident to occur. These workers don't have any safety ropes attached to them, they walked over the steels without fearing that they might fall from the 20 feet height above the ground. Just a single wrong move they would surely die - one of the things I dread the most.
I sighed for a while then I bit my lips gazing intently on the ground. I remember my younger sister as she wept while waiting for her final days to end. It is still fresh in my memory how she suffered the pain of brain cancer. It was too late when we discovered her ailment and her doctor hopelessly told us that my sister will pass away in a few days.
It was almost six years now and though it was really hard to accept, we tried our best to overcome the pain of her loss. And now we are able to move on, but there were times that it keeps on coming back in my thought whenever I see or even hear the word death, I really can't take it.
Few minutes passed by when suddenly I saw a silhouette of a young lady sprining towards me, it was Joanna my classmate. I smiled at her while wiping the tears left in my cheeks but she pretended not to noticed me. As she had her way inside the room, I ran and followed her.
"Good Morning Ma'am!" I greeted our instructress in a reluctant approach. She seemed to be so busy talking that she wasn't able to noticeme, so I went directly to my chair and listened to her discussion.
When our class was about to end, our instructor checked our attendance. She called every name with her high pitched voice that I myself couldn't help but chuckle in my seat.
"Robles, Carlo?"
"Present."
"...Robles...is he around?" Our instructor asked once more.
"Absent...he's not here ma'am." my classmate said.
"...present ma'am. I'm here at the back." I said raisiing my right hand.
(Silence)
Our instructress proceeds to the next student and marked me absent.
I was puzzled at the sudden strange flow of the incidents. So with much anger inside me, I furiously stood up and shouted aloud.
"Excuse me ma'am you've got to be mistaken! I'm here! I just arrived late but you see? I'm not absent!" After I give my clamor I was totally perplexed for she seemed not to hear me at all, not even my classmates responded to how I reacxted. It felt like nobody hear me, they've been doing their own stuff while our instructress continued her job checking our attendance.
"What's going on here?" I asked them while looking to their eyes, but none of them offered a glance at me.
My heart beat so fast and droplets of sweat were dripping from my forehead, my toes were shaking as if I'm going to faint. I slowly sat on my chair feeling frantic and oussted by everyone.
After our class I joined my barkada and asked them why they didn't help me, but no one answered me, it seemed to me that they don't want to talk to me. This time I felt so pathetic and my blood had drifted all over my head in anger. "If you guys don't want to talk to me, well it's up to you! It's fine with me, but don't you ever call my name again when you need some help!" I screamed to their seemingly blank faces, still they haven't heed me as if I never exist.
So I headed back home myself, and on my way I keep on asking myself about what had happened, why didn't they listened to me? Why did they act like that? It was so strange that I couldn't even comprehend the reasons behind all these eccentricities.
Few minutes passed by I found myself standing in front of our residence. I was shocked by what I've seen, there were so many people in our house, and tables were set in our garage. It wasn't my birthday and not even my mom and dad?
"What's the occassion?" I whispered in confusion and without much ado I entered the house.
I heard my mom sobbing inside the living room with dad beside her whose eyes were also swollen red from crying. Hordes of people surrounded them and most of our relatives were there. I just enede uyp asking myself about what's going on. I am buffled by the things that happened so I slapped my face with great force, trying to awake myself, maybe I'm just dreaming.
As I keep on observing the ambience of our houseI was terribly surprised when I saw a white coffin set at the center of our living room. Hairs in my arms stood up and my heart pounded. My whole body trembled in fear when I slowly paced toward the coffin to see who was lying inside, when an intense fear dawned on my senses.
"Why would I be afraid?" I hastily asked myself.
Then slowly I looked at the person inside the caskette, and with a sudden glance tears fell down from my eyes.
"Why would this happen?" I hissed as I slowly fell down to my knees.
All of a sudden, Uncle Steven entered the house then instructed everyone to listen to the reporter on the television. "Hey, everybody come and look what's in the news," then he turned on the television, in the dining area. "His death was televised." He added just as everybody went to see it.
I was left in the living room mourning in vastness of despair. I can't bear to stand and check what's being simulcast on the news. I just shrugged hopelessly while gazing at them. Then someone maximized the volume that made me hear exactly the words uttered by the reporter.
"...according to the autopsy, Enzo Macam got his arms ghastly bashed and both legs totally covered with black-violet-blood-clothed-skin. His head pools blood having been whacked by a hard wood. He was asserted dead on arrival."
Mr. Carlo Robles, a resident of barangay 39 explained that it was 5:00 early in the morning as he was crossing the dark part of the road going to the bakery when he saw a young man wearing a violet shirt lying just beside the road, he was shocked when he found out that the young man was dead..."
I clamped my hands over my ears, startled from the things I've heard and began to shed blood while staring timidly at my skin as it changes its brownish complexion to cold pale white.
As I gazed down on the floor I reminisce the happy moments when I was still young, blessed with a loving parents who sway my cradle while I started to cry, who guide me in every step I take, who listen to me when I have problems, and who's always there to lift me up when I fall down. I just regret the days when I was used to be away from my family and started to walk on the wrong path.
My research paper indeed became effective, just too bad I was able to experience it myself.
xoxo,
Sheena <3
