1 Year Ago

It was December, three days before Christmas which was also Charish's birthday. The afternoon breeze was frigid. I was walking alone at Wright Park, observing everyone who was spending time with their loved ones.

The Park Circle was already full of visitors from remote places; vendors were working hard to catch the attention of tourists, who would be spending the special occasion here, hoping to sell their products to them. Kids were joyfully riding on horseback with their accompanying guide. I took a picture of a pink pony. My sister would be glad to see this, I thought. I put my phone in the pocket of the white hoody I was wearing. My eyes scanned the place, where shall I go next? I asked myself.

Hands inside the pockets of my hoody, trying to solicit warmth from within, I started to approach the long flight of stairs, enticing me to climb. The pine trees were gaily waving at me. It was a perfect afternoon. Every vacationist was having a good time, I could say by the reflected happiness on their faces. You would hear laughter all over the area, aside from inaudible chattering from a distant crowd of teenagers, several tourists were capturing the picturesque, breathtaking view of the park using phone cameras.

I'd finally decided to visit The Mansion before going back to where I was staying; Ashley asked me to send her pictures. I deliberately chose to travel without companions. Charish and I used to visit this place when she was still here. We celebrated a lot of Christmas together, took pleasure in each other's company. The world seemed to be unfair, it took her away from me. Now that she is gone, I can no longer share the joy of going back here annually with her.

As I was walking up the seemingly endless stairs, I started to feel exhausted. I had taken this route a while ago to get to the other side of the park, but it was continuously giving me a hard time to reach the peak when I was back at it. (Author's note: I added a photo of the stairs at the top of this chapter. CTTO. My personal copy was already deleted from my phone.)

Pausing for a minute to catch my breath, hands were resting behind my head.

"This is bad, I think I'm getting old," I mumbled to myself.

A view of someone sitting at the top of the stairs, looking at me, made me fix my stance. I blinked twice to confirm if I was seeing an apparition, for a bit of second I thought she looked like Charish.

She was probably laughing in her mind while watching me helplessly climb these endless steps.

For no valid reason, I found myself talking to her when I reached the top.

"It was really hard to reach the top when you lack exercise, you may laugh at me now," I said, panting. "This must be the stairway to heaven," I joked.

Avoiding my gaze, she continued to watch each person making their way up. Some were grunting under their breaths, especially the old ones who thought climbing this stairway was a piece of cake.

Waiting for her response, I remained standing beside her. She was remained seated; a purple backpack was laid in front of her. I decided to forget that I'd said something, she was not fond of talking to strangers, but after a moment of stillness, she spoke.

Looking up at me, she said, "Your joke wasn't funny. I got a funnier one," I waited for her to say more. "I think I'm lost. It's my first time here. Now let's laugh together."

I sank beside her. "Being lost is fun. Where are your friends?"

"Forget it, I was just kidding. I'm not lost I k-know the way to-" stammering, she reached for her bag.

Did I make her uncomfortable?

"Hey, I'm not a pickpocket. I won't harm you, either. Just trying to help."

She got up, ignored my offer, and began walking down the stairs. I didn't follow suit. I let her go.

Without thinking twice, I hollered, "You look like her," but she didn't mind, and continued her way down the stairs, not looking back.

After her appearance was out of sight, I realized it was a dumb act to speak with her. Why did I talk to a stranger? She might have been frightened by my strange approach.

And what in the world had gotten in my mind to say she looked like her?

Her hair was not long, ash gray like hers. Charish was a bit taller than her. No, she would never be my Charish.

I talked to her because for a moment I thought she was here with me.

But the deceased couldn't reincarnate after three days. They just perished along with the memories they'd left behind. Instead of doing my original plan, I stayed sitting on the stairs for another hour like a lost boy, waiting for rescue, watching each group of people as they watched me.

ʘ

The next day, I never saw her again. She didn't appear to my sight, perhaps she got lost somewhere with her backpack. In every place I went to that day, I was hoping to catch sight of her. I intended to help, no other hidden motives. Maybe the other day was just a joke.

But life never failed to surprise me. On Christmas Day, I didn't go out to visit the Christmas Village, for sure there was a long queue of tourists waiting to witness the village's grandeur. I had planned to just stay in the lodge, eat all day, and maybe get some sleep before going back to the city's hustle and bustle.

Alone in my hoody and a cup of hot coffee to warm the night, I was spending the night in a small nipa hut just outside of the lodge I was staying in. I would say it was indeed a coincidence to see her again tonight.

While everyone was enjoying the light show, the fake snow, the mouth-watering food, the chill weather, I was watching the girl in her yellow jacket walking out of the same lodge where I was in a moment ago. She approached the spot where I was, and in a calm manner sat opposite me, her legs crossed on the seat. In these teeth-chattering weather, jeans were not her chosen companion.

She didn't lay eyes on the person she was sharing the night with. Earphones were on her ears, a book in one hand, she started to read.

I liked to say hi and ask why she was traveling alone, but I felt doing that was too much. We didn't even bother to say our names the other day. Partly because she didn't ask, and that was just small, casual talk.

I didn't bother to disturb her reading; I just watched her read, shifted my gaze from her and the trees surrounding us. Took the time to admire the eerie silence around us, the well-lit moon above together with the stars as they take part at the most wonderful time of the year.

I caught sight of what she was reading, it was The Purpose-Driven Life.

The same book Charish bought for my twenty-fifth birthday. We both had a copy of that book. She was pious, into poetry and novels, she loved to sink her teeth into a good book, especially those that would help strengthen her faith and discover purpose in life.

She had read that book for me twice. This might sound weird and romantically stupid but trust me when you see the way how Charish smiled while reading a book, something in your heart would flutter. And from that moment I knew, there was something about her that I needed to know, that I needed to understand deeply.

And after reading, we would share our insights while lying in my bed. On the 13th page of the book, there was a Covenant, and we'd signed that together along with the promise to read together for the next forty days.

I'd never opened that book again. That day, we were supposed to read the last chapter of The Purpose-Driven Life. Unfortunately, we were not able to fulfill our promise. On the 40th day, a car accident led her to join our Creator.

And there, right at that moment I almost told her things about Charish, but I hesitated. I chose not to vent out because she didn't need to know. She was a stranger. We were just sharing the night's solace because we were both alone.

That moment felt like an hour. She was engaged in reading; I was deeply submerged in silence. There was no other source of light, just the moon, and I wanted to point it out to her. Reading without ample light would result in poor eyesight.

I was sure she knew someone else was here with her, but she didn't bother to talk. Maybe she was not fond of small talks with strangers, and she hadn't recognized I was the same guy from hours ago. With no intention to doze off here at this moment, I reclined in my seat and closed my eyes.

"The thing you said earlier, who do I look like?"

My heart almost leaped out of my chest when she uttered those words. I reckoned she had figured out I was the same guy from the other day.

I kept my eyes closed and answered, "A girl whose picture is posted at the lost and found."

That was a frivolous reply, but she was not into jokes. Or was it I never pulled off one successfully? She didn't laugh or smirk, or scoff, there was no reaction at all. Or maybe there was, I just didn't see it because I was not paying attention.

"How'd you manage to find this lodge?" I asked when there was no response, my eyes were still closed.

This was way better than looking at her and wishing she was the girl I wanted to see right now.

"That's not what I meant when I said I was lost."

I shifted in my seat so I could see her. She was looking at me, flaunting the book's cover. Now I understood what she meant by being lost. I stared at the book for a while, then finally dared to speak my mind. Charish would be glad to hear what I was about to say.

"Life on earth is temporary. We are just passing through it, visiting this place just for a moment before we finally head home. If you feel lost, just think of it as part of your purpose. So, you could get to know Him more; He will make your paths straight."

Skeptically, she just stared at me for a while. And then she looked away, she removed the earphones stuck on her ears. Shit, she didn't hear me preach. I'd laugh at myself right now.

"Don't worry, I've heard every word you said. Are you a priest in your past life?"

"No, just a kicked-out student when I was a sophomore."

My statement was not implied to cause laughter, but I made her chuckle for a moment.

"How gallant of you to say that," she paused, contemplating what to say, "What did you do? Cheated on a test?"

"Punched a prick's face for verbally abusing my girl," I smiled to myself, "I know, how immature of me."

She nodded, "She didn't approve of it?"

Charish hated violence. It couldn't and wouldn't solve anything, as she said. I shook my head to express my approval. She looked in the opposite direction.

"Where is she now?" she asked.

"She's already at home."

I almost lost my voice while saying that.

She was watching the dancing lights displayed in front of the bar adjacent the lodge when she ran out of things to admire, she looked at me with a pale, empty gaze, she nodded again.

"Don't worry, there are no arrogant pricks at home. She's safe and happy there. That's the only place where problems don't exist. I wish to get a one-way ticket home."

No one dared to speak.

I listened to the sound of pine trees as they sang with the breeze. She seemed unperturbed in the company of a stranger.

Talks about home and Charish made me speechless. In my opinion, it was not time for Charish to be living eternity in Heaven.

I was looking down at my shoes, elbows on my knees, when I finally thought of what to say, she was reading something on her phone when she whispered words only to herself.

She got up from her seat, ready to leave.

"Hey, wait."

I rose to follow her but stopped when I'd realized what I was doing. Why would I stop her from leaving?

"Would you like to stay for a while?" I asked.

It took her moment before responding, eyes were fixated somewhere else but me. Like she was trying to find the right words to say from the lofty tree erected in front of the driveway.

"Sure," was her reply, "but not tonight. Some other time. Merry Christmas!"

With her back turned on me, she waved a hand while walking away, groping around the darkness to look for her purpose.

That night, I thought she was just an apparition again and Charish was trying to scare the hell out of me because it was her birthday. Maybe no girl was reading the same book from Charish, there was no girl whose eyes were like hers. Maybe I was just missing Charish and everyone would look like her because she was the only person I wanted to see again.

But she was real, and she was not her. Charish hated yellow, and she never read and listened to her favorite songs at the same time. She would never wear shorts because it was effing cold up here in Baguio.

"Merry Christmas."

I mumbled to no one in particular.

ʘ