Part One.
I was standing atop a hill somewhere in Baguio City. That city up north. City of Pines. City of Lights. City of the Proud Igorots.
I had Marlboro Reds on my shirt pocket. I lit one. I blew circles for a while and then resigned to just holding the stick. I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I threw away my cigarette. I watched it roll down the hill. I watched it as it grew smaller until it flickered on and off. I envied the cigarette as it rested at the bottom of the hill. It rested there peacefully. Alone. Undisturbed.
The wind was blowing fiercely. Cool wind of summer. The rain was even attempting to marry the wind without the benefit of a courtship. Forced. Like a shotgun wedding. Or worse, even.
I was not alone. Or it felt like that. Alone, but not quite. The wind grew even more fiercely. And the rain was showing signs of forced matrimony. I scampered like a puppy when the marriage occurred with a deafening silence. I was expecting the onslaught of nature on the hapless earth. One cold blow brought forth a blinding array of lightning across the horizon. Incessant display of lightning kissed the summer skies. It rained like hell.
I failed to hit the cottage on time. I was drenched. Like a drenched puppy. I decided to just play in the rain, run around in circles, until I was gasping for breath. I stopped moving around. I sat on my Timberlands. Hands on my face, clasped. I felt dethroned, defeated. The marriage between the rain and the wind brought forth horrendous thoughts of yesteryears. Thoughts that were threatening to come alive again to torture me.
End of Part One.
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Part Two.
I was roused from deep slumber by a familiar light scratch on my right hand. A slow, licking motion ensued. Then, a grunt. I managed to part my lips. When I smiled, I muttered, “Good morning. Nice to see you.” No reply. Expectedly. It was Sluggo. My Golden Retriever. Then I heard someone call out.
“What up?!”
“Say what?!”
“Oh, you don’t remember? Last night? I saw you near the cottage. On the hill.”
My mind raced back to that cottage incident. I don’t remember anything. At least for now. I hoped I could remember everything. All I could remember now was that I was alone, drenched, defeated.
Then it dawned on me. I remember I was not quite alone. I saw someone. Or something. Whatever it was, it never failed to send shivers down my spine. I remember the scent. Feminine. Fresh. Alluring. But it exuded darkness, danger, pain, disgust, and contempt.
I saw her standing above me. She had a penetrating look. She had menacing eyes. She was, to the say the least, imposing. She was looking through me. She sensed my misery. She was now looking into my past. She had unlimited access to everything.
Her face looked familiar. She was someone from my distant past. Her eyes were now probing, begging for something. But I didn’t have the faintest idea why she had to do it that way. She came back. Who was it? For what? Vengeance? Retribution? To warn me of something? Then everything went black. It happened fast. It was a swift surrender to nothingness.
End of Part Two.
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R3DG3 