Chapter Four

I was right when I thought that I’ve seen him before—and it’s not even linked to my bygone childhood memories or even the ones that my mind chose to forget—it’s neither of the two that triggered the first of the recent encounters that I’ve had with him.

One day in New Zealand when I was 14, I happened to come across a stranger, a young-looking man embracing a peculiar indifferent impression around him. I couldn’t exactly remember even the minor details I had with that stranger, but all I knew is that he was wearing something yellow—a yellow shirt, perhaps, and that I could see his hooded slanted eyes.

I don’t really remember everything specific and detailed on that day. But I was sure it was him all this time. And I was right; my intuition was right all along.

The occasional breeze of the southwestern wind caused the brittle charring leaves to rustle above and also cuddled the people every now and then. Its waft whispered melody just as the swift rush of it composed around the surroundings. It was an odd chilly day in the park.

But I met him. Thick and dark eyebrows rose above russet hues; I met his heavy yet with a hint of gentle look on his face when I run into him. I stared on those brown orbs and I felt myself pulled into vagueness with his static gaze. It wasn’t welcoming to the feeling; I was absorbed to the new and strange impressions.

And it was what I hated the most. To encounter something new; to feel something raw; to touch something foreign; to meet the unknown; and to realize that I’m probably a fool to someone…because I looked ignorant of knowledge—that I knew nothing—because I couldn’t remember.

He was just there, a humble distance of two meters away from me when our eyes locked into each other. I was out for a walk to ease myself because of my recent attack of nausea and headache. But I guess another wave of insecurity and anxiety washed over me when I faced him, the stranger.

And it was the first time I saw him, after when I wasn’t able to retrieve any more of my memories. But, it wasn’t the only encounters I had with him in New Zealand. However, I couldn’t remember any of it any longer, or I chose not to dwell in the past again.

Dark clouds started to roll in the skies and it grew larger until I could only see gray above, it was memory inducing; tempting and welcoming even when it felt gloomy. But it’s a pity that I couldn’t remember even a bit memory of the past. I looked up and saw nothing but blur and dull. The sound of rain pelting hard against the window snapped me from reality.

I stressed my peripheral vision just to peek a look at him. He was calm as he drove past around the heavy outburst of rain. However, his jaw was clenched tightly and eyes were serious—it lost its sparkle and was slowly replaced by darkness…and mourning.

I had no idea on how long had passed since the rain started to cry and he decided to take me home (to our village’s gate). It’s as if I had lost my knowledge in truth and reality. And I forgot how it was like to hold the time.

The ride home was quiet; I did not bother to speak and so did he. But it wasn’t an awkward silence or a comforting one—it was just silence; a cautious indifferent stillness between the two of us with emotions I didn’t want to name churning around us.

Slowly, the cries ended and it was also the same time when we arrived on our village’s entrance. I turned my eyes on the streets, the realizations hadn’t hit me on the mean time. Everything from earlier haven’t registered on my mind. However, I was still in the right mindset to grab and open the seatbelt wrapped around me. Then, I shifted my attention to him and saw his already gaze on me. I swallowed the lump on my throat hoping that I could find my voice after.

But he was still the one to end the reign of the ruling silence.

“…I’m sorry,” He whispered and his voice was hoarse.

I blinked; once, twice and thrice. Slowly, I closed my eyes and opened them in a swift yet gentle manner. I moved and put all the weight that I have on my seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

I didn’t want to lengthen the time I’m having with him. But, I gave him a last look before I opened the door next to me and went out the vehicle. I left there without a word, without saying goodbye—

—and once again, I wasn’t able to express my thanks.

Mom was already at the door, waiting for me when I arrived at home late in the evening. She was hysterical when she saw me damp of the rain. She forced me to take bath on the warm water and I immediately followed her.

I turned my shower clockwise, the lukewarm water from it fell to my skin and I realized how far different it was when I was drenched with the cries of the rain.

“What? You’re sick?!” Tatiana’s cry with concern echoed on the other line. I nodded even when she wouldn’t see it. My raspy voice produced a chill whisper on my cheeks against the cold surface of my phone. “Yup…prolly because of the rain.”

That was all I reasoned out. I didn’t want her to know about everything last night. I want to sort it out alone and privately. I want to settle my life right now without the past forcing to come back.

My mom wouldn’t like it. Heck, she’ll get mad at me if I try to reconnect everything related to my childhood memories.

But…I don’t know.

His eyes told me something.

“Oh dear!” She said acting like a Mom. “You knew that we just finished rehearsals late at night and maybe, you walked with the rain wearing your dry shirt of sweat that you used in practice?” She added her laments.

She sounded like my Mother and her words were too familiar. I heard them earlier from my Mom so I couldn’t help but to laugh at her. Tatiana, on the other line just heaved a sigh and muttered few words before she hanged up the call.

“Okay, fine, I’ll just tell Ry that you’re sick.” She pertained our Team Leader.

Today’s a Saturday. It’s a good thing that I got sick this weekend, so that I can rest properly without worrying about my missed quizzes and recitations in school days. But, I also know that I should keep up with the dance rehearsals as soon as possible.

Mom suddenly entered my room seconds after my call with Tatiana. She was wearing her usual outfit for work; black slacks and a patterned polo shirt of their company. I turned my gaze on her, giving her full of my attention and she had this weighing look in the face.

“I can’t miss work, Lazna.” She called me by my first name.

I nodded because I knew that way before this. And I understand the nature of her work completely.

“Please follow my instructions and medications properly, okay?”

She kissed my cheeks before she bid goodbye. My eyes fell close when I felt her kiss gave much mixed emotions to me. It was full of love, concern and sadness. I didn’t want to overthink more of those emotions because I knew them too well.

My mother, Alana Ojeda, raised me alone. I don’t know who my biological father is but I didn’t want to dwell in the past anymore. Besides, I already have my Mom with me, she’s more than enough to live this life. She raised me alone even when I knew it’s difficult. Words cannot properly express how grateful I am to have her.

And I believe I grew up wise and right because of her.

I slowly stood up from my recent resting position on bed. The more I convince to compose myself and to relax, my loud earsplitting thoughts bothered me and I couldn’t achieve to calm down. And the longer I stare on nothing specific, the more my mind think of those unnecessary thoughts that confused me further. And that even when my ceiling was colored in a bright yellow tone and patterned traced white flowers—I am still drawn with doubts and uncertainties of blue and glum.

Axel’s words from last night haunted me. It chanted repeatedly in my mind like a broken record. I couldn’t sleep properly. I wasn’t able to rest. I couldn’t even function normally like how I should be—like how I normally was.

I opened the sliding door reaching to our house’s lounge area in the second floor. The breeze instantly embraced me when I took steps forward on our balcony. The sun was up and bright but it wasn’t burning to my skin.

I sat properly on the resting bench placed outside. My eyes somehow fluttered when I tried to stare on the beautiful painted blue sky with wandering clouds. And in some ways, I was cheered up by the bright sun.

How I wished the weather would stay like this forever.

I didn’t want to hear the cries of the rain anymore.

My phone rang and I saw an unknown number flashed on the screen. I remained staring on it because i don’t answer a call from an unknown number. It went like that for a few moments, until it stopped.

The call from the stranger stopped after that. I sighed in relief then closed my eyes. I was immediately welcomed by the southwestern wind and was embraced with the yesterday’s memories.

It seemed like everything just happened yesterday. The memories of my mother’s concerned face and worried laments for me played on my mind like a stagnant old film; her body actions were stiff like a puppet and voice constantly stuttered like a broken radio. Everything was in my mind; the memories of the recent remained.

“Lazna!” She called my name…and it echoed within me and I heard them all with different voices that laced with concern, rage, calmness and love. She called me by my name repeatedly and with several tones that I fell confused with what’s happening.

Then, muffled voices came in and I focused on hearing them still and clear. And when I was successful to catch the words, I realized that it was, yet again, from my Mother. She was worried and angry with what happened to me.

But above all, she didn’t want me to look back on yesterday anymore.

And I was fine with the idea of moving forward without knowing the past.

My dream was cut off when I heard the familiar ringtone of my phone. I looked down and stared on my phone clutched above my shaking curled palm. It was an unknown number and I wasn’t sure if it’s still the stranger from earlier.

The disregarded call ended after a few minutes of staring and snubbing it. I ignored everything and looked forward.

Hours passed and the bright hues of sun changed to enigmatic beauty of sunset. I was on our backyard outside when I noticed the purple and orange hues that painted the sky along with the dark shadows of the surroundings. I stared on the skies then closed my eyes.

“Laz, dear, promise me that you’d never look back again.” A whisper embraced me. “Promise me that you’ll not engage with the past again…” It was soft and gentle to my ears. But there’s something about it that interested me, it made me curious more and more—that I was starting to refute the plea for me.

“…Neither the truth nor remembering them won’t help you, okay?”

My eyes opened and I looked up and realized that the skies already changed colors; it was dark and cold. I was mended right away, the thoughts of remembering my memories surprised me. It was one of the subtle yet unconcealed blatant flashbacks that I’ve had every now and then. The whispered words from my Mother will always repeat on my mind on every silent moment.

I looked up, only to see the dark painting above. The purple and orange hues from before was long gone and it changed to black—there wasn’t even a single glistening spot that scattered the sky. The stars are nowhere to be seen and everything was black and dark.

The shadows hurled within the surroundings. I was reminded to my abandoned fate.

I didn’t know how long I lasted further outside, but I remained there, eyes lingered on nothing as I was in deep thought of everything. But, when I heard the soft and gentle voice of my mother again, I was successfully pulled back to the present and I chose to forget the thoughts from before.

I don’t want to break a promise. I never broke one.

My fever worsened and I had head pain attacks too often. The headache was probably because of my fever, it felt heavy and I couldn’t function well. That’s why my Mom decided to get me checked by a doctor.

My knees were shaking even though I looked fine on the outside. My eyes looked serious as I stared in front of me even when I felt terrible inside with my chaotic rumbling unstable heartbeats. My eyes were stuck in front me and I was fazed with the familiarity of the surroundings.

It had been some time since I set foot in a hospital. And still, the atmosphere that any hospitals have are depressing and suffocating. The white plain walls never failed to make me as empty as them, the crowded yet bare blanked faces of people walking equaled the hollow in my chest and the clear and distinctive smell of the place scented me once again.

I hated it here. I hate it here.

Mom and I went inside to an unfamiliar room. We entered and I was embraced with the coldness and discouraging atmosphere of the place. The people wore a white scrub suit and surgical mask. One from them assisted me to seat on the empty chairs located beside a large table with tubes, containers, injections and such.

Mom suddenly answered a call from her phone and left me alone the room. Although, the people here were gentle and quiet, I still couldn’t help myself but feel blue. We’re here for my CBC test.

I remained still and waited for the one that’ll attend me. A woman went after me and prepared herself with gloves and mask. I stared on her preparing as I waited. But, the door suddenly opened behind me and she was called, I didn’t bother to turn my attention.

A deep voice muffled underneath a mask. “Ma’am Felice, Doctora Yao is looking for you. She asked about the result of her patient…” I wasn’t able to hear more of the words because the woman in front of me, maybe Felice, panicked and immediately went outside.

My ears seemed to close as I chose to neglect the surroundings. The only thing I hear right now is the heavy and loud beats of my anxious heart. The woman from earlier before me left but it was replaced by a male attendant embracing a scrub suit, mask, gloves, and eyeglasses on his whole face and body.

I stared on nowhere, and the gentle sound of clatters from the moved and used objects and kits were the only thing I heard. But, the subtle noise from the surrounding was drowned by my loud beating heart, and even more loudly when I heard a familiar tone of voice.

I was so sure of it, even when I’ve only heard of it in a short amount of time. I am certain on this one, even when the voice was muffled by mask. I know it too well; I know his voice and uniquely different tone of his own voice. I remember it.

Turning my whole attention, I looked up and realized I was right. Axel is in front me, with an injection on his hands covered with gloves, eyes supported with lens, mouth protected with mask. Our eyes met and this made me hear and realized my chaotic system clearly.

My heartbeat went crazy; fast, unsteady and loud. Different emotions mixed and I couldn’t name them anymore. A few moments passed until he sat in front of me. He held my arm; caressed it while he stared on my nerves intently. He stroked the carved nerves on my arm like it was art. And I gave myself a chance to feel his touch deeply in me.

This made me swallow the lump in my throat. The sensation from everything and anywhere on this place and moment had me in chaos. My head hurt from the sudden rise of my heart. And incoherent illogical thoughts started to flow all over my mind.

He looked and read something on my record paper placed on the table between us. I couldn’t see his eyes and jaw clearly, but it was obvious when his adam apple moved in a slow manner.

I remained quiet and weighed the situation. His attention came back to me; his fingers grazed on my arm and how foolish of me to think that it was laced with concern.

“…I’ll start,” He whispered and I didn’t answered.

The needle was inserted to my arm. I felt a twinge of pain from it but it was bearable. But I didn’t know what came to my senses when I muttered the words;

“It hurts…” I whispered.

Blood started to enter the shot on my arm. I swallowed the lump on my throat when I saw it. But, I also noticed how he faintly stops to pull the trigger for a moment. Then continued as he also mumbled the words;

“I’m sorry,” He whispered back. “I’m sorry, it won’t take long.”

And

“Everything’s going to be fine after. You’re gonna be okay,”

My heartbeat came running. It became more fast, loud and unsteady from what I felt before. I couldn’t breathe properly but at the same time, his words also calmed me down in a miracle. And even when the needle was gone on my arm, i remained my recent position in front of him; arm above the table, handed to him, waiting to get hurt again.

“…it still hurts.” I answered, whispering faintly with my soft small voice. I wasn’t even sure if he heard them. And I don’t know why I wish he did.

Axel was standing as he settled the things he used earlier. He arranged the things above the table but when he heard me whisper, he slowly went back from his position. He sat and focused his attention to me. He replaced my finger that held the round cotton with his own then he took care of my wounded arm.

“…it really hurts.” I said and I don’t even know what hurt me.

He touched to cotton on my affected limb, and held the wrist of my other arm weakly, like he’s asking for support—as if his touch on mine would give him strength. “No…” He said hoarsely; his deep rasping voice gave me goose bumps. “It won’t hurt anymore.”

I nodded. We remained on our position; sitting in front of each other, large table between us, arms and fingers touched above our own, feeling both of our presence. I nodded again and again and again—heart so loud; bursting my chest, mind so loud; flowing my thoughts. I nodded again, even when I don’t really understand. I nodded again, even when I didn’t know what it means. I nodded again, even when I had no idea what hurts—on why it hurts.