Another tiring day was about to pass
I took a deep breath and inhaled the advent of solitude that would inarguably welcome me once I went home. I smiled – one that was sweet. Just by thinking of my bed and pillows exalted my being. This was one of the vantages of being a wallflower –- freedom.
I wondered if people like me felt the same way I did. Was it just me? Or everyone else was just like me? Uh, bother not. What mattered the most was I enjoyed life in my own perspectives.
I stared at the screen of my laptop, contemplating what to do next for I had lots on my plates at the very moment. Then, my stares went to the class records I needed to finish.
What a life.
I started doing my thing with my earphones on. I needed all the concentration I could muster. Therefore, no one must disturb my little bubble I build around my façade. Good thing my colleagues knew what I was like whenever I kept my distance. I thought they would be aloof with me because I was like that to them. On the contrary of what I was thinking, they were amicable. They understood a wallflower such as me.
It was quarter to four when I started fixing my things. It was time to go home. I did the usual routine of going out while earphones on. I was quite enjoying Press Hit Play’s rendition of Mahal Pa Rin Kita. It was addicting. How could someone love that endlessly? How could love make us do all the stupidest things? I wondered. I did not need to know the answers though. It would just be a waste of time knowing.
I treaded the same path my feet were used to. I became cautious when in a certain path I was about to take catered a crowd. There were murmurs.
“Oh no. When did they last see him?”
“Is he really… Oh, my goodness.”
“Was it that brutal?”
My brows furrowed. What were they talking about? I slowly traipsed the path until I had reached a group of Marites I knew. They were in my neighborhood. What were they doing here?
“Ma’am!”
I stopped walking and sought for the caller. My eyes landed to a plump woman waving at me. She’s Manang Tes, member of the Marites club. What a name.
Someone pulled me closer to their group. I wanted to shout but I remained dignified. I was wearing my school uniform, so I better behave.
“Do you know Arnold, Ma’am?” one asked.
“Uh, Arnold?” I did not get it at first. Who was Arnold?
“He’s your neighbor, Ma’am! And he has been found dead just this afternoon.”
“What? Arnold? You mean Arnie? The one who delivers newspapers?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
He was dead? Oh.
Without further asking questions, I was able to gather all the information. The club fed me with all the information (should I call them as gossips?) I did not intend to know. Arnold was found dead by the street sweeper. He was inside a sack, butchered almost half of his body. Probably to fit him in a sack, half of his body was cut into pieces. The were intact still but inside the sack.
My body got goosebumps. How could someone do that was unfathomable. Arnold was a fine kind man. He always smiled and had a joyful aura. Why would someone do that to him?
I went home immediately. I did not bother staying long because my stomach was acting weird. I could not take the smell of the corpse when people pulled the body out of the sack.
That was horrible.
I tried to wash away all the thoughts of this afternoon but to no avail. The murmurs kept me awake that I had to stay away from my bed and forcefully opened my laptop to do some pending tasks. I was supposed to do them tomorrow, but the incident of this afternoon bothered me a lot.
It was almost half an hour when I decided to go out and drink some milk. I went to the kitchen and prepared a warm milk when I suddenly saw some reddish mark on the countertop. What the hell. I cleaned that area this morning. Why did it have some marks?
Annoyed, I got the rag and started scratching the reddish mark. It took me a while to wash away the mark but for some reasons, another reddish mark was spotted. I glared at the mark and followed if something was still the same. To my surprise, there were droplets of the reddish mark on the floor. They were like a pattern as if someone deliberately walk from the outside and left marks.
What on Earth?
I followed the marks until I reached the backdoor in the dirty kitchen. I found myself staring at a shirt that was color red.
I immediately reached out to my nose when a pungent smell welcomed me. What was that smell? It was disgusting. Like a smell of what transpired this afternoon.
Huh?
I stepped out to scrutinize that hung t-shirt. It was really red, not the original color, but like a color and smell of… blood?
I fell a step backward and open-mouthed gazed at the shirt. Who owned it? It was not mine for sure. I did not have any red shirt.
I returned inside and checked for any thing that would have a clue of what was happening. The striking glare of my meat cutter made me stop on my track. It was, as my eyes could point out, the cutter was bloody red.
I held the meat cutter. It was kind of heavy and big. It was covered in red.
Suddenly, flashed of memories returned. My eyes suddenly went blank. The event of yesternight came and saw something that shocked the hell out of me.
What in a sorcery was that?
The wailing of a siren echoed in the neighborhood. I was dumbfounded. I dropped the cutter and was immovable for a second.
What had happened?
ER Baguinaon (05192024)
Dreams and Nightmares 