
This is a story I wrote way back in college. I have yet to find the other one. See? I didn't write as much, even if I wanted to. Sadly, I couldn't find the stories I wrote for friends back in college. One of them actually now feels similarly close to real life. Well, not all aspects of that story but still... Anyway, say whatever you want about this story if you want to.
Traffic
It is a busy Monday morning. Along Commonwealth Avenue is a horde of people waiting for jeeps, buses, FX taxis... You know how it goes. It's a jungle out there, or so they say. To most commusters it's more like a wrestling arena. Men and women do not seem to care whether or not they've stepped on somebody else's toes, caused someone else to be late, accidentally pushed someone... Sometimes, you never know which is worse: the WWF Royal Rumble or the Monday morning commute to school or to work. Amidst the horde, there is a pretty young lady with a medium size figure. She's not that tall at all, probably just five feet and two inches (also known as the minimum height requirement for female applicants to fast food chains). She is clad in the uniform of Manila's oldest university, that blue skirt and white blouse. And she's wearing not so high-heeled shoes. A practical move, knowing the commuting situation from where she is coming from. Her long black hair is pulled back by two powder blue barrettes and she is clutching to her chest a big thick book, and her small black shoulder bag is slung over her right shoulder. She scans the highway for any sign of buses going to Quiapo. So many jeeps, so few buses this morning, she thought. Beside her, a shifty-eyed 30-year old man looked at her wrist, from which a silver bracelet with little heart charms have been dangling. Feeling the man's eyes upon her wrist, she breathes a short prayer of protection and provision - a bus! she must get on one soon. I don't like the way he looks at me... Maybe I'm just paranoid, she thought as she frantically searched for a ride to school. The people were actually blocking her view, so she couldn't see very far. Uy. There's one!, she thought, then she breathed a sigh of relief. Not minding whatever it was that she stepped on, she scampered towards the bus.
The shifty-eyed man yelped in discomfort and sudden slight pain and hollered "Hoy! Watch your step, miss!" But the girl in uniform was already entering the cool confines of the airconditioned bus.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
Ah! The Acad Oval looks so great this early in the morning, the young man thought as he jogged. The State University's Academic Oval is lined with acacia trees that have long, thick branches with lush foliage. It gives the University that feeling of freshness and new hope especially on a wonderful Monday morning. Anyway, the young man of not-so-average height, probably five feet eight inches tall, and of a robust health, was jogging alone, sweating as if had been jogging for an hour already. Maybe it was just nearly an hour. No wonder he started feeling a little weird, his knees almost giving way. Humming a tune always helps when jogging alone and feeling a bit tired, he told himself. He started humming a tune. After a while, he stopped humming and asked himself, What are you humming? The last song that he heard on the UP-Philcoa jeep was still playing in his brain. "Last song syndrome," he muttered. his next thought was, Stupid song. He groaned. The image of a lightbulb flashed in his mind. That is true, he thought. Then, he snickered, "Stupid talaga." So it is the stupid song playing his mind. The one with the lyrics going "stupid" in the chorus. Oh yeah. That is one song that gives a really long and lasting last song syndrome. The operative word is "lasting." His mind strays as he notices the smooth curves of the girl jogging in front of him. It was enough to distract him for a little while. That is one of the benefits of jogging.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
The week is a hectic one, being exam week and deadline of projects week. Students from all over the country are either in front of their computers and/or typewriters (depending on which gadget the student has on hand) with their wrists feeling so awful because of the awful lot of typing that has been done (dreading what has yet to be done). Click, clack, clack-a-tackt, tack, click. These sounds could be heard in almost every room in the dormitories and boarding houses. The lights are on for those who can't bear the thought of using soft light while cramming. (Soft light doesn't really help some students - there are those who say that soft light induces sleep.) Volumes and volumes of reference materials are in front of students, creating the mess that parents hate to see. In residential areas, some of the homes have lights that are still on because of this. This is one of those times that the youth of the nation unite, when their minds are on one thing: to pass their requirements and get it over with.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
It's past three in the morning. By this time, there aren't so many lights on anymore, save for those who left them on by accident (there are those students who drift into sleep after cramming from the previous week, which meant that they have been cramming for two weeks or so). Studying and making papers for school is realy tiring especially when one has been at it for how many nights. Rest is definitely welcome. Not just rest, but also distraction. No wonder some people call up their friends even for just a minute during those nights. Somehow, it gives comfort that someone is there, sympathizing, empathizing.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
"Aaaaaaaaaaargh! Why does this have to happen to me now?" the girl uttered as she threw her hands into the air. "I need that piece of paper now!" she groaned. It's a piece of paper on which she wrote the results of her experiment for chemistry lab class. The lab report that she's writing wouldn't be complete without it. She has been texting her lab partner but he wouldn't reply. She also tried calling the guy's house, but the phone just kept on ringing. Seems like he was already done with his lab report considering that he seems tp be asleep already. What time is it anyway? the girl thought. She looked at her cellphone and checked the time. 3:05 it said. "No wonder nobody was answering the phone at their house," she told herself. She sat on her bed and looked at her notes. Her pink floral pajamas have been very wrinkled from her movements in and out of the room, looking for pieces of paper in the living room, in the bathroom, under the tables, chairs, desks, sofa and bed. Her long black hair was put up by a mint green banana clamp but after going under the furniture it looked like a bird's nest. After a little while, she stood up from her bed and decided to just look at her lab manual and conjure something feasible. I hate doing this but I've got no choice was her thought as she took the lab manual from underneath the pile of textbooks, notebooks and papers.
Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring! her phone rang. She hurriedly picked up the receiver from her sidetable. "Hello?" she muttered as she picked up the phone. "Yes, darling? What is it?" she asked the person on the other line. She listened intently to what the caller was saying.
After a fifteen minutes, she hung up the phone and started to sob.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
3:10AM was the time that the taskbar displayed on the computer. Winamp was playing their assortment of mp3 files, to keep them company in the lab. It was dance music from the 70's (VST, Hotdog, etc.), R&B tunes, some Daft Punk and Kylie Minogue (songs that are light and bouncy, also the songs that stick in one's head) and some alternative songs that helped them get through long nights of finishing their projects and studying for long exams and recitations. Tonight is one of those long nights that they stayed in the computer lab... There were seven of them, all young men. However, two of them were already asleep. One was under the table, his head propped up by a throw pillow; while the other one lied down on a cot, with his face down. Two of the people who were in the lab, were in front of the computer, programming something. A guy with glasses was fixing up his circuit board on one corner of the room, while the sixth guy was yawning as he turned the page of his big book on electromagnetics.
"I don't think I'd be able to finish whatever I need to study. I'm so sleepy already," he said, yawning. More like talking to himself, not really trying to elicit any reactions from his friends who were busy.
The bespectacled guy who was trying to finish his circuit board looked up from what he was concentrating on. "How many chapters to go anyway?" he asked.
The guy flipped through the book to check his progress. His face lighted up. "Well, what do you know! Just one more chapter after all." He grinned to his friend.
"See? Not bad. You can finish it," was the bespectacled guy's encouragement to the other guy. He gave the book-guy a thumbs up then went back to work.
Yeah, he's right. I can finish this, he thought. He still had seven hours before his exam. And I better finish this soon so I could still catch some z's... Maybe three hours of sleep, he told himself so that he would hurry up in finishing his review. He has been studying for how many nights already and he actually felt a little confident, though somewhat still unsure. Daft Punk's "One More Time" was making him want to dance at this time. Makes his mood better, wanting to celebrate... The celebration is after I pass this exam... That is the exam at 10am. It is, as usual a two-hour exam that fries the brain cells. Who makes those exams anyway? Some alien instructor whose brain is like a fast processor. And how does that professor even remember all thsoe things? As Daft Punk's song was fading into oblivion, he suddenly remembered that that morning was supposed to be his schedule to jog. Scrap that jogging, he told himself. Must pass the exam. I don't wanna take that subject one more time. Yeeeesh. He looked back and checked on the guy finishing his circuit board. He looked to his left and saw that the two other guys were concentrating. He shrugged. Well, at least we're all in this together was his thought before going back to his reading.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
At last, most of the students could relax already. After all, the exams are over. Finished. That was it. Finally. Yes. It's over. Vacation has come. But not until the day after the final final exam because after the exam is the long trip going home. It might not really be that long but it's the time that one savors the feeling that getting a ride home means going home, as in going home, not to study, not to type papers but to be able to unwind with people you love, people you're so comfortable with.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
&nbshe door. Anyway, there is a young girl at the back, sitting near the window. She was adjusting her blue skirt so that the one sitting beside her wouldn't sit on it. She clutched her small black shoulder bag closer to her, making its place more secure. Her silver bracelet with heart-shaped charms and a little bell jangled as she placed her left arm upon the bus window's ledge. She looked at her reflection on the window and said to herself I don't look so bad. Then she sighed. Nothing seemed important at that point of her life. After all, she wasn't able to make a very good lab report, having lost the information she needed. Whatever. It's done. Nothing could make it any better... was her hopeless thought. She was supposed to make a good lab report for her chemistry class because she was hoping to get a very high grade at the end of the semester. Her bangs suddenly covered her eyes and she brushed them away thinking, How I wish my memories of him could be easily brushed away too.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
The Sunken Garden is so inviting. Students just gravitate there. It's a relaxing place. It's a spot where one could find peace in a university full of chaos. It's the end of a very long week and people just want to rest, catch up on their sleep, play frisbee with their friends, lie down on the grass, find their lost thoughts... A young man is riding on a jeep. He had a big blue backpack which looked as if it contained an anvil, his hair is disshevelled and his white round-necked shirt looked like it has been worn out. He wasn't able to wash some of his clothes so he wore older clothes to school, having to bring his things to the lab earlier that week, for those long sleepless nights in the lab. He couldn't wait to get home and rest. As the jeep passes by the Sunken Garden, he looks from the jeep's window, trying to catch a glimpse of what is going on there. That was when his eyelids seemed to have become heavier. I need sleep so bad, he told himself. He has been sleeping in the lab all week. Well, sleeping is not the operative word. More like studying continuously. And he has been so tired that he missed his jogging schedule yesterday. He drew a deep breath. His face is haggard, his normally smiling brown eyes have lost their luster because weariness has set in already. An awful heavy feeling has replaced usually cheerful feeling. Worry has been gnawing at his brain. But at this moment, thoughts of lying down his soft bed started to lull him to sleep.
That was when the jeepney driver decided to put on a tape into his cassette tape player. A weird beat and a high pitched voice started rapping the lyrics of the song. Why does this stupid song have to play right now? Last song syndrome strikes again...
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
Getting home and finding one's self alone is not exactly a very comforting feeling. She found herself alone, lying down on the couch, holding a big yellow fluffy stuffed toy rabbit in her arms as she sobbed her heart out, her sobs drowned by the songs on the radio. Then she stood up and changed the radio station. She didn't want to hear their theme song on the radio. It was just too much.
"The time now is 6pm, time check brought to you by Visine. Visine gets the red out in sixty seconds." That was the DJ saying the time. I didn't even know that it was already six, she thought. "I should get dinner ready," she said out loud. The stuffed toy was placed on the couch, then she moved towards the refigerator. She opened it and saw that they still had those chicken nuggets ready for frying. She didn't want to think anymore so she just got the box of ready to fry chicken nuggets, and left over lasagna. Fry the nuggets and heat up the lasagna - that was her plan. How could she still think of cooking something fancy when she was feeling that bad already? Besides, it was just the two of them staying home (her younger brother and herself) because their parents were still enjoying their short vacation in Tagaytay.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
The traffic in Quezon Avenue wasn't so bad that afternoon. He was able to get home early. 6:03pm he read on his watch. Haven't been home this early before, he thought as he entered the gate of the compound in which his family lived. He had his big blue backpack slung over his right shoulder as he walked toward the house. A fluffy white cat meowed at him. He bent his knee so that he could pet the cat. The cat looked at him and meowed again.
"You seemed to have missed me, Kitty. Meow," he patted the cat on its head and it rubbed itself against his foot. He smiled, thinking that his pet cat missed him after a week of not staying home. He scratched the cat's ear and told it to follow him because he was going to open the door already. He took six steps then he was at the front door of their house already. He knocked three times and his mother opened the door for him.
"Uy, I thought you were your brother," his mother greeted him as she let him inside the house. "Normally he comes home around this time, you know."
He placed his bag on the couch and sat down. Then he started taking off his shoes and socks. "My exam was over by twelve but I still wanted to take a nap before going home just to make sure I wouldn't be so groggy as to lose my way," he told his mom, laughing a little.
His mom smiled at him. "That was practical of you, as always," she remarked. Then she walked to their kitchen. "I'll have the dinner table prepared in ten minutes. I'm sure that your kuya and Chari wouldn't mind if we have dinner already," she called out to him from the kitchen, as she took some plates from their dish rack.
Once his feet were free from the socks and shoes, he slipped on his slippers and went upstairs to change into pambahay.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
The cellphone beeped and she read the message. It went: ate, m gona b home l8. u dont have 2 w8 up 4 me. m wid d guys. tambay kina mel. jz col der f u hav 2. btw, m eating out. She sighed and muttered, "Great. So much for eating with my brother." She already had dinner on the table. Well, at least nobody would complain about eating left-over food, she thought. Chico could be so picky about food sometimes...
She got a plate and placed on it a slice of lasagna, a piece of garlic bread and two chicken nuggets. In a tall glass, she poured cold orange juice. She put them on the living room table and started watching TV. It was a Friday night and like most other nights, the two major local networks showed teledramas which she would love to avoid that night. Because of this, she decided to watch "That's Life" on channel 9. It didn't help that the protagonist (who happened to be a pretty thirty-something Italian bartender trying to survive in college while working) was being hit on by her professor in that episode.
"Is it 7:30 yet?" she asked aloud as she checked her cellphone. It read: 7:20PM. Wow. Ten more minutes to "Survivor." She placed a spoonful of lasagna in her mouth and picked up the remote control. "Bahala na. Got nothing to watch anyway," she said as she pressed the numbers "2" and "3" on the remote control.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
"Uy, 7:30 na pala, Survivor time," the guy said after replying to his groupmate's message. He turned to his mom and aked,"Is it okay?" referring to his desire to change the channel. His mom was watching "Pangako sa 'Yo" on channel 2.
"Sige lang. You could change the channel," his mom graciously replied. He pressed the numbers "2" and "3" on the remote control.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
Maybe Sheila is home, she thought. She reached for the telephone and started dialling Sheila's number. She got a busy tone. "She's home alright," she groaned. "Si Krissy kaya?" she asked aloud then she hurriedly dialled Krissy's number. "Whew," she breathed as the phone rang. Good thing nobody's using the phone at her place, was her relieved thought. Somebody picked up the phone already. "Uh, hello? May I please speak with Krissy?" Pause. "Yes." The one who answered the phone recognized her voice right away. Pause. "Oh. Okay." Pause. "Uh, please tell her I called. Thanks. Bye." She hung up. Putting down the phone dejectedly, she reached for her fluffy yellow rabbit stuffed toy. She gave her stuffed toy a squeeze. She sighed. Am I that desperate for company? she asked herself, unbelievingly. She stared at the phone, her lips twitching.
She looked at all the channels and what they had to offer. She was just so bored. Flip, flip, flip, flip... Great workout for my fingers, she thought while channel surfing.
As if a light bulb lighted up, she had an idea. She smiled at herself. She stood up and went to her room to get something from her bag.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
There was someone knocking on the door. He stood up from the couch and called out to the one knocking, "Who is it?"
"Chari," was the reply of the one who was knocking. Chari, his sister, was 18 years and four months old; of medium height and build; she had chocolate brown eyes and hair. The youngest child. He sighed. This girl should learn how to give considerations for us here at home, especially mom, he thought.
As he let her inside, she told him "I'm sorry for being home late. You see, Pia and Sandy invited me to watch 'The Time Machine.' She took off her shoes and put them on the shoerack as she slipped her tired feet into comfortable and soft pink slippers.
He just nodded as she justified her actions. He couldn't really blame her for acting bratty sometimes.
"How's mom? Asleep already?"
"Yeah. She said that she's tired."
Chari looked at her feet, as if thinking, actually looking really guilty.
"Just make sure that you let us know what time you're going home the next time that you'll be out with your friends, okay?" He smiled at his sister. He loved her but didn't really know how to discipline her without seeming too strict or killjoy.
"Yes, kuya. I promise," was her curt reply. She moved towards the staircase. "I'll be sleeping na, kuya. Good night," she said as she went to her room.
"Good night," he said, waving at her. Now that Chari and his mom were already upstairs, he was left alone downstairs (where else?) and he flipped the channel to watch that gag show on channel seven.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
"Do I?" she asks herself, looking at the phone in her hand. She had to focus. She already set her mind on doing this. It has to happen or it won't happen. It's now or never. Boredom is starting to gnaw at her brain again. She toyed with her silver bracelet's heart shaped charms and small jangly bell. She dialled the number.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrriingg! the phone rang.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
There it's ringing already. Great. Now what? Why am I doing this? were the thoughts that flashed in her mind as herheartbeats raced against each other.
On the side table was a picture frame with her family's picture in it, her cellphone, her purse, some methol candies, a pen, several bus tickets and the cradle of their phone. She knew that twisting the phone cord is bad but she did it nevertheless. She wasn't thinking straight anymore.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
He was still laughing at Michael V so he couldn't answer the phone right away. After the fourth ring, he was more or less composed already so he answered the phone. "Hello?" he told the person on the other line. Pause. He had a bewildered expression on his face. "Yes, I am Raymund," he replied trying not to laugh. Michael V was dressed up as a lunchtime teledrama protagonist.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
She held her fluffy yellow stuffed toy rabbit in her arms more tightly. "Uh, Raymund, I'm Tammi. I'm sure you've never met me before but I can explain. If you'd listen." Slight pause. "You will? Gee, thanks."
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
Tick, tock, tick, tock. The clock just ticked on and on.
**_*+*_*+*_*+*_*+*_**
"Hey. I think you should rest. It's nearly twelve already," Raymund told Tammi after around two hours of talking on the phone. He wasn't that tired but he just felt like resting a while. He has been spending too many nights not sleeping. He listened to her for a minute, she was asking him something. "I don't know... Maybe it's okay," he replied. Slight pause. "Uh, sure, I guess." Pause again. "Good night." After saying that, Raymund put the phone down and just stared at it for a while. That was weird, he thought. How come I often get these kinds of phone calls? Everytime I'm home someone calls me up and never seems to actually telling me the reason she knew my number. "That was so strange..." he thought aloud. His cat went to him and placed itself on his lap and just meowed, as if sympathizing with him.