(no subject)
The building is almost decaying. After so many years of withstanding the heat and surpassing every storm, the paint fades and the ceiling rusts. Silence crawls in every hallway, but the chaos of the raging students almost covered the floor with crumpled papers, dust, candy wrappers, ashes and cigarette butts and forgotten dreams. The picture of an institution of learning and unlearning remains distorted.
Inside an empty room, one could immediately notice the mundane writings on the wall aside from the bulletin boards hanging. The wall clock says it is already six o’clock but the sun refuses to rest yet, allowing the sky to paint itself melancholic dye of orange and puce.
“Look outside,” Adam murmurs. “Isn’t it beautiful?” he asks, still murmuring.
Pia stares at the sky and saw nothing. She looks confused.
“What about it?” she asks.
“Nothing, just stare at it.”
The two are seated at the corner of the room. For Pia, it is impossible for her to see outside as the huge bulletin boards almost block her sight on the outside world. But for Adam, he can peak through a slight opening and see the birds gliding in the air as if rushing to go home. He can see the sun still bright and near on its rest. He can see stars slowly shining. One. Two. Five. He sees five stars glimmering as it signals the start of the night. That instant, after counting those five magical stars, he says: “Shit. I forgot to make a wish on the first star.”
“Sayang. ‘Di bale, may bukas pa naman,” Pia says out of sour grapping.
“Yeah, pero saying pa rin. Mas maganda sana kung ngayon, kasi magkasama tayo. Baka bukas, hindi ka puwede lumabas,” he explains. Adam sounds as frustrated as she is. Almost as dreary as the night.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be with you tomorrow,” she says to console him, and holds her hand.
Somehow, Adam feels relieved and sighs.
But he knows that he can never be with her. He knows that this is just a dream. Just a dream he wishes to continue until he wakes up. But reality sinks into him as he feels Pia’s hand holds his hand tightly, as if saying not to let go. Indeed, this is just a dream, he tells himself.
Adam remembers the call he got a few weeks ago. He was in his Algebra class, busy composing a story about lusting and losing, sex and betrayal. He went out and answered the call.
“Hello,” he greeted.
“Layuan mo siya,” the voice said, threatening.
“May I know who’s this?” Adam asks. And then the caller hanged up.
Adam stood in the hallway, alone and shaking. He did not know if it was the bad weather that made him shiver or that haunting and taunting voice. He wanted to flail, perhaps to keep himself warm or perhaps to let out the anger rushing in his bloodstream. He knew couldn’t do something about it. He knew nothing. Nothing.
Pia’s grasp becomes much more tighter waking Adam up in his silent reverie.
“You know what? I dreamed of you last night,” she shares. “You were walking on gold dust. You were holding something. I did not see it but I am sure you were holding something. I don’t know what it means cause it was very vague,” she continues.
Adam, still thinking about the call, just smiles. He cannot think of what to reply.
And then silence. A long hurting silence.
But then they hear loud footsteps. Coming nearer and nearer, closer to where they are, closer to where dreams are made. The louder the sound gets, the more silent the two grow. Even their breaths have to be short and silent.
Footsteps.
More footsteps.
“I’m pregnant,” Pia blurts out. She looks straight into Adam’s eyes, the way a butterfly eyes a budding primrose.
But Adam looks outside the window. The sun has fully set. There are no longer five stars in the bleeding sky, but rather, a thousand of them, glittering, dying and living. He cannot count them for now, but promises to count them one by one, tomorrow, when she will no longer be with him. Tomorrow.
A man enters the dark room, and says: “Bawal na ho umistambay dito.”
***
I am.
Inside an empty room, one could immediately notice the mundane writings on the wall aside from the bulletin boards hanging. The wall clock says it is already six o’clock but the sun refuses to rest yet, allowing the sky to paint itself melancholic dye of orange and puce.
“Look outside,” Adam murmurs. “Isn’t it beautiful?” he asks, still murmuring.
Pia stares at the sky and saw nothing. She looks confused.
“What about it?” she asks.
“Nothing, just stare at it.”
The two are seated at the corner of the room. For Pia, it is impossible for her to see outside as the huge bulletin boards almost block her sight on the outside world. But for Adam, he can peak through a slight opening and see the birds gliding in the air as if rushing to go home. He can see the sun still bright and near on its rest. He can see stars slowly shining. One. Two. Five. He sees five stars glimmering as it signals the start of the night. That instant, after counting those five magical stars, he says: “Shit. I forgot to make a wish on the first star.”
“Sayang. ‘Di bale, may bukas pa naman,” Pia says out of sour grapping.
“Yeah, pero saying pa rin. Mas maganda sana kung ngayon, kasi magkasama tayo. Baka bukas, hindi ka puwede lumabas,” he explains. Adam sounds as frustrated as she is. Almost as dreary as the night.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be with you tomorrow,” she says to console him, and holds her hand.
Somehow, Adam feels relieved and sighs.
But he knows that he can never be with her. He knows that this is just a dream. Just a dream he wishes to continue until he wakes up. But reality sinks into him as he feels Pia’s hand holds his hand tightly, as if saying not to let go. Indeed, this is just a dream, he tells himself.
Adam remembers the call he got a few weeks ago. He was in his Algebra class, busy composing a story about lusting and losing, sex and betrayal. He went out and answered the call.
“Hello,” he greeted.
“Layuan mo siya,” the voice said, threatening.
“May I know who’s this?” Adam asks. And then the caller hanged up.
Adam stood in the hallway, alone and shaking. He did not know if it was the bad weather that made him shiver or that haunting and taunting voice. He wanted to flail, perhaps to keep himself warm or perhaps to let out the anger rushing in his bloodstream. He knew couldn’t do something about it. He knew nothing. Nothing.
Pia’s grasp becomes much more tighter waking Adam up in his silent reverie.
“You know what? I dreamed of you last night,” she shares. “You were walking on gold dust. You were holding something. I did not see it but I am sure you were holding something. I don’t know what it means cause it was very vague,” she continues.
Adam, still thinking about the call, just smiles. He cannot think of what to reply.
And then silence. A long hurting silence.
But then they hear loud footsteps. Coming nearer and nearer, closer to where they are, closer to where dreams are made. The louder the sound gets, the more silent the two grow. Even their breaths have to be short and silent.
Footsteps.
More footsteps.
“I’m pregnant,” Pia blurts out. She looks straight into Adam’s eyes, the way a butterfly eyes a budding primrose.
But Adam looks outside the window. The sun has fully set. There are no longer five stars in the bleeding sky, but rather, a thousand of them, glittering, dying and living. He cannot count them for now, but promises to count them one by one, tomorrow, when she will no longer be with him. Tomorrow.
A man enters the dark room, and says: “Bawal na ho umistambay dito.”
***
I am.