At the Crime Scene

I placed on my socks, and placed my feet in my Airmax Nike shoes. I grabbed my olive green messenger bag, placed it across my body and placed my navy blue Polo Sports handbag over my shoulder. I grabbed my keys on a rusty chain, opened the door, went out, and made sure that the padlock was securely locked before I go to school. I was minutes behind my usual schedule. I made it to the corner of L. Gonzales and Shaw Boulevard. I crossed the busy highway with ease, and I quickly called a jeep headed to Quiapo Echague. The jeep was already full, so I bulged myself in for a seat. I got off the jeep at the corner of V. Mapa and rode the LRT heading Katipunan. I plugged my earphones in my ears and listened to Brandy's R&B music, specifically her old albums. It took about 15 minutes to get to my destination. I got off and headed out of the station.

This was were all the action started. I found myself on the sidewalk filled with people walking unusually fast. They seemed to be in a hurry, but not less than in a hurry than I am. In front of me was a college student, seemingly a nursing student, with her all white uniform and bulky magenta bag. With her was a transparent cooler with a light green lid. She was carrying it on her left hand. It looked like it was heavy, even heavy for her to carry. Two guys, both wearing plain white T-shirt and one was wearing a baby blue baseball cap, intersected my path and walked behind the lady. The other one, the one without a cap, looked at me from head to toe. I remember that his eyes were fire. Fierce enough to raise my heartbeat. My heart began pounding fast, and I knew something was wrong. Knowing I was running late, I tried to walk on the road to overtake, but suddenly I lost control of my feet. My feet walked as fast as these two guys walked behind the lady. My heart pounded louder. I couldn't ignore it so I looked at them once more. I saw the other guy, slowly unzipping the front pocket of the lady's bag. I looked at him, stared at him and let my eyes do the talking. I was afraid that if I did anything, it would only lead to harming myself. The other guy might have a knife ready to stab me if ever I made a scene. But nonetheless, I only stared at them. Our eyes met. It was long before he realized that I knew what he was doing all along. He, along with his partner, walked back to the waiting shed without anything gained. I immediately took action by approaching the lady and reported what happened. I zipped her bag knowing she couldn't do it alone. I didn't want to bother her more so I decided to part ways with her. I made it to the Katipunan - UP Campus terminal and found a police officer. Thank God that I saw one. I approached him, not minding anymore if I would be late in my first class or not, and told everything I saw. He immediately went to where I pointed the crime was done.

My heart breathed a sigh of relief, and I felt good inside even though I knew that what I had done may also bring me to danger. What matters is that I did what I know was right.

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Memory Lane: Trip to Saudi Arabia

I was riding on a jeep on my way home after a tiring day. I was sitting there in the crowded jeep, pressed in between the sweaty, sticky arms of those beside me. I didn't mind the pressure, the force, acting upon their arms, against me. I held on the rusty smelling metal bars as the road began to bump. I faced the windows to see the view of the busy world around me. I was watching the buildings and roads pass by me until I saw the street sign: 1st Street. The sign brings back a distant memory that stayed in my mind for years, a memory that rarely comes, a memory that I treasure.

Upon the sight of the sign, I was transferred to another dimension. I went out from reality to the realm of memories, my memories. I remember the streets of Al-Khobar, Saudi Arabia, that were named ordinally. I remember the jet black night sky contrasting with the beautifully sparkling stars scattered above. The night lights stood out from the darkness of the background. The buildings stood high and their roofs were cut flat. I remember the busy streets filled with the black-coated ladies, and the white-cloaked men with veils of crimson and white. I remember the streets filled with welcoming smiles on the faces of the friendly Filipinos on weekends. I remember hearing the gentle gush of the grass and the sweet melodies of the waves in beaches. The sun may be striking hot, but the moist winds that blow make up for the heat the day brings. I remember reeling a fishing pole and catching one to two fish at a time. I remember the beige sands and the sandstorms that would visit from time to time.

With that simple sign, my memories of my childhood and my hometown came flashing in front of my eyes. A single tear ran across my cheek. I wiped it clean and a gentle smile appeared on my face. Those memories will remain memories, and my hopes of reliving it is still with me.

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