Fifth

Only a few steps before I could reach the door, I decided to turn back and find myself staring at the reflection in the mirror. A sudden inner impulse coaxed me to walk back and look for a mirror. Right there at my dressing table, it was perched. My eyes were fixed at an image of someone who was staring back at me – the version of who had not taken a bath yet, still in her pajamas, with strands of hair that hadn't been neatly untangled. I looked fine somehow, if I could describe it objectively, so I automatically dismissed the thought of taking a quick shower before showing myself up to Sander and his guests.

Interacting with Sanders' friends could be a drag since some of his guy friends were reticent; they would only speak to me as though they were forced to do so by my brother. It was a queer thing, talking with them though they were not large in number; and I felt they were trying to dodge interactions as well. Like they had planned to test the waters first before getting close with me. Perhaps because my eyes were radiating an unfriendly aura whenever I looked at them. So it was not really a big deal if I didn't doll up and just showed up like someone who just got out of bed.

The same scenario would take place: they would say hi and I would reply with the same word just for the sake of conversation.

Gaze still fixed at the mirror, an interesting image caught my eyes. I squinted to get a clear picture of the thing reflected on the looking-glass. I turned around, not moving my feet from where I stood, and surveyed the thing that was lying beneath the bed.

It was the book that Archie had been reading upside down this morning. The one that he briskly tossed away unconcerned because, as explained, he didn't understand a thing written in it.

I started toward the bed, knelt down, and picked up the poor book. As I held it in my hands, a fleeting glimpse of memory on how I had acquired it surfaced.

The bookstore had been a comfort zone for me. A place where I felt more at home than any place in this world, whenever I entered a bookstore, it was as though I was covering myself with a warm blanket. The place had been the bubble I wouldn't want to escape from. It offered safe, peaceful, and relaxing getaway.

As a way of relieving myself from the plight I had to endure: the grueling cycle of my life, its misfortunes, and what seemed to be an endless battle of self-pity since James' absence had taken its toll on me; I indulge myself in reading. It could be one of the best ways to escape from reality even for a short time.

Book reading is the second favorite thing I love doing next to traveling.

That day I decided to visit the nearby bookstore just to take a breather. It was also mom's idea to permit my wandering because they had been worried of the actions I might commit when locked up in my room. They volunteered to look after Archie. He was only four that time. A four-year old who, in spite of being a bundle of joy, clearly wasn't aware of what his mother had to go through to combat the sadness bottled up within her for too long.

I headed out with the thought of making the most out of my time to make up for myself. It crossed my mind to seek professional help. How strenuous was it for someone to constantly win the silent battles he had been wishing to end? There was a time where I hoped I could just scream it all to the world and after that the tumult consuming the very me would permanently vanish.

Trepidation clouded my initial plan. I feared the idea of being judged if I opened up about getting help from medical experts. I knew I wasn't living a normal life anymore that time. There was nothing I could do for myself to save it from slowly drifting away from the profane world.

The building's façade could be seen from where I stood. I quietly sauntered toward its direction, contemplating the kind of book I would purchase. While walking, my head was bowed down the whole time. I deliberately chose not to make eye contact with whoever I come across with in the streets. When I entered the building, I went straight to the bookstore. Instead of heading for the fiction section, which was the genre of most of my books, I headed to the shelf where hope awaited my arrival.

I had no idea what book to get. Scrupulously checking out the books on the shelf, I decided to get the first book that would capture my attention with its title. Naturally I would first read the synopsis written at the back of the book prior to purchasing. This case was different, I had to get a book without having prejudice against the words summarizing its contents.

"Oops, sorry!" a voice said, "really sorry."

I looked at the person who was stooping inches away from me. Two books in one hand, the other was trying to pick something up from the floor. My gaze averted from her to the thing she was trying to reclaim – a smartphone.

I didn't say a word as a response. I just helped her in getting the thing that was right in front of me. I got it for her, handed it back, and offered a thin smile. She responded with a polite smile, "I'm really sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going. I got caught up with these books," she apologized again, this time showing off the books she had in one hand, and still a smile plastered on her face. "Wanted to read them right away," she explained shyly.

Not just the friendly smile was noticeable about her, the sound of her unfamiliar voice was soothing. I liked it the first time I heard it. I looked intently at the books displayed in front of me.

The Purpose Driven Life.

That was the title imprinted at the front of the book.

Interesting, I thought. This girl just gave me an idea of what book to get. However, something was amiss. "You bought two copies of that book?" the question came out of my mouth all of a sudden.

She didn't seem surprised with the question. An unwavering look was seen on her face. She nodded before replying to my question. "This one is for myself," she said, sorting the books at hand, "and the other one is a present for someone dear to me."

"Seems like a nice gift. May I know where on the shelf I can get myself a copy?"

"Just turn right. At the third row from the left. Lots of copies await you," she smiled after giving the directions. For the third time, she uttered an apology.

Although I wanted to let her know that she didn't have to hammer the apology into my head to appease me, I couldn't get my mouth to speak the right words. After all, I was not good at tete-a-tete. It would just feel as though I was forcing an amiable conversation. If Sander was here, he probably would know what to say and do. They both seemed unabashed to show their genuine self to people they barely knew.

The stranger with two books at hand left the spot just as fast as how she showed up. We didn't get to introduce ourselves, but I guess instances like that rarely happen these days. Who would give their names to strangers as easily as counting one, two, three? There is information that must be kept confidential no matter the circumstance.

I found the right shelf, books stacked neatly in it, awaiting the hands that would hold them like a precious jewel. I hesitated for a moment before finally getting one of the same books displayed.

What on earth am I here for? I asked myself as I read the question from the front cover.

Perhaps this was the sign I had been dying to see. Could this book contain the answers to my never-ending questions about life, its uncertainties, and my growing anxiety?

I couldn't believe myself that I was smiling while looking at a book. One thought rushed into my mind: that stranger led me to discovering the possible answers to my questions.

What could be her reason for buying this book? That question popped up as I was waiting in line at the counter. I scanned the area to check if the girl from earlier was still here at the bookstore, but I failed to see her again. She was like a ray of sunshine on a rainy day. Her lustrous eyes were radiating happiness, the smile on her face could be an epitome of kindness, and her voice was as soft as a lullaby. She could be an angel in disguise who came down from above to make my path straight.

I came back to my senses when I heard Archie's laughter from the outside. I stared at the book for a moment. I haven't read it in a while now. I smiled as I lay the book down on my bed. Perhaps now could be the right time to turn its pages again. This book surely has witnessed a lot of changes in my life since I got hold of it. The journey wasn't that smooth, and triumphs were not easily achieved, but thanks to it I had finally discovered my purpose in life.

I went out of the room to check on Archie.

I got curious why he had been laughing so playfully all this time.