Chapter I

I remember falling. I can't remember where I fell from, but I remember the sinking feeling I had in my gut. I remember the cold breeze running past me as I sink. I tried wriggling my arms and legs, but I can't seem to come into contact with anything—no walls, nothing. It was just the cold wind blowing past my face from down below, from the abyss waiting for me. I closed my eyes as I wait for that painful sudden stop on the ground, sure death waiting for me.

Faces rush through my mind, like lightning slashing across the blank sheets of my consciousness. But the stop didn't come. I was still alive, somehow. I was pretty sure my eyes were open, but it was kind of hard to tell with the darkness embracing me.

I blinked; nothing. I blinked again; still nothing. Wait, there was something. Pretty sure I saw that. It was a tiny speck of light. It was there, floating still in place in the middle of wherever I was. Then it swirled and rushed its way towards me, filling me up with subtle warmth.

I woke up with a start, with the sound of a dog barking vigorously from somewhere not far from here. But where exactly was 'here'? Oh that's right, I was at my room, in an apartment I rented, somewhere in Laguna. I rubbed the vocation of sleep off of my eyes as I walked to my kitchen to grab eggs.

I turned on my gas stove and started the fire. I placed the pan, scrambling the eggs as I wait for the pan to heat up. I put cooking oil, watching the bubbles rise and fall like blonde bungee-jumpers laughing as they dare-devilled along with their lives. I lowered the flames and put the scrambled egg, seasoned with salt and pepper, onto the pan. I fixed the egg onto a plate and got myself cold rice leftovers from last night.

Where are my manners? I nearly forgot to introduce myself. My name is Ted Rivera, that's short for Theodore Rivera. I am a five foot-four, scrawny Philosophies Major at the local University here in Laguna. My hobbies include reading, sleeping, and talking to myself - while my social life mainly consists of Netflix and chips. I have no prospects, nor enthusiasm.

The sun was a brimming yellow on the blue sky of this Saturday early morning. The day held many possibilities. Chances of adventure, romance, and fun; many things I am more than willing to let pass me by. I am not fond of activities that require spending energy.

I heard three knocks on my door as I walked away from the sink—the place where I usually eat. I opened the door and waiting for me by the other side was Mrs. Dela Cruz, my landlady. She smiled at me and after a rehearsed set of pleasantries, she asked me for my rent. I asked for until tonight as my paycheck wouldn't come 'til late this afternoon (I work at a local branch of a certain food chain). As much as I hate to work, I need to at least be able to compensate for myself. Working wasn't all that bad as my labor was rewarded. It wasn’t a fair wage, but it beats the alternative. Altruism was a concept I am not fond with.

I went back to bed as soon as I finished eating. Sleeping after eating was too much, even for my standards so I just lay there, staring blankly at the whirling of the blades of the ceiling fan overhead. But as much as I want to fight it, my nature still got the better of me. Being hypnotized by the rhythmic spinning of the fan blades, I was lulled back to sleep.

I woke up to the sticky feeling I had on by back. I was sweating. The timid blush of the afternoon sun now showered the city with a bath of orange and red light. I checked my wristwatch and read 04:53. I guess it was time I headed for the ATM to get my salary.

The nearest bank with an available ATM was a thirty-minute walk from my apartment. I grabbed a clean, grey, shirt and my usual black, straight-cut jeans. My shoes were a pair of black-and-white laced slim-looking Vans thrashers. I also put on my maroon hoody-jacket over my shirt and headed out for the door, not forgetting to lock it and place the keys on my right rear pocket.

Down the stairs, past the dogs and out of the gate, I started walking. I walked and walked, and I could feel my breathing turning heavy. It felt like an eternity. I looked back and saw that I was still only three-blocks from my apartment. What the crud? I need to go out more.

I started slowing down my pace to ease my breathing. In the energetic afternoon light bath, children playfully chased after one another, high schoolers were walking in their usual groups of fours or fives. Office workers were running as they ran to catch up to their night shift. I put the hood of my jacket over my head to protect my eyes from the light. This scene was another picture to be buried deep beneath a pile of more forgotten sceneries in the darkest bowels of my mind. Sure enough, I'll leave this picture behind as well.

The usual traffic congestions at the intersections were ever present; the violent hums of engines, the occasional horns. The energetic smile of the evening sun now seemed like an angry pout of frustration. I guess everyone's façade had a limit to how they can be pulled off; the sun should be no different.

Arriving by the bank, there was a line starting up, but it was still bearable. There were eleven people in front of me, so I just stood there, silently waiting for my turn at the ATM. I started playing on my phone (yes, I do have one) with my hoody still overhead. There was the sound of feet stomping and stopping behind me, I guess the line grew faster than it could clear out.

After another twenty minutes or so, I was the one in front of the ATM. I slid my card inside the machine and entered my PIN. I checked the amount I was paid. I took out money (9,000Php) and left the rest (a hundred peso or so). I placed the money inside my wallet as I turned around to head back.

And, like any other cliché worth mentioning, I bumped into the person behind me. "I'm sorry," I said robotically. The first thing that caught my attention was the scent of her perfume (or was it cologne? I can't really tell). The scent reminded me of the strawberry fields I have been to once. I looked up and saw a girl with a slender build, her skin pail, almost lifeless. She had straight red-dyed hair that reached just above her shoulders. She wore a yellow blazer on top of a plain white shirt that did not fail to emphasize the good side of her humble bosom.

A pair of big eyes; thirteen shades of wonderful, were carefully placed on her small, slightly rounded face. A shy pair of lips painted with timid lip-gloss rested just above her chin. I may not be an accurate measure but I took a wild guess as her sizes were somewhere along 34, 26, 36. Although her face seemed like something pulled out of a Romanticist's painting, her expression lacked any emotion whatsoever.

She was like a French doll, moving robotically due to some programming hard-wired onto her head from some time ago. Though, that is just me trying to read too much between the lines of mostly anything and everything. But still, there was this lingering feeling of beauty and sorrow oscillating from her.

She didn't seem to notice me looking at her for that exact split second as she quietly stepped towards the ATM. I fought the urge to look at her any longer and started walking back towards my apartment. The sun was bidding us farewell for the day as he slowly sinks into his bed somewhere in the west, slowly bathing us in the spotlight of the moon.

I checked my watch and it read 06:33. I guess I slowed down my walking pace too much.

The traffic congestion was still ever present, but the same couldn't be said for the cheerful children and high schoolers. Men and women in all sorts of clothing were rushing from everywhere to somewhere. Some were office workers heading back home after a cheery night-out with friends at a local pub. Some were mothers carrying plastic bags full of groceries for the night and the day after.

Now that I think about it, I better get some groceries for two weeks. I headed to the local convenience store to get myself canned goods, veggies and a few cans of beers (I think I still have two or three more left inside my miniature fridge back at my room).

I paid more or less 1,000Php by the counter and continued my way back home, now with two plastic bags, one at each of my hand and paid my rent.

Whatever tomorrow held, I just wish it was more uneventful . . .