The Seat We Sit On (HFS #1)

seat #2

'Glad you're early but putting

vandals is X!'

Ha? Ano 'to?

I read the words several times and stare at it longer. My mind tries to process what does whoever-wrote-it wants to convey.

I arrive late in the class today, marching to my seat without being noticeable while the teacher is writing something on the board. And the first thing I have seen is this.

My mom was a bit scatterbrained last night. I couldn't guess what she wanted to do til she started jumping on the sofa. Halos magkandaugaga ako dahil hindi na alam ang gagawin noong nagsimula siyang sabunutan ang sarili niya. Sundan pa ng napakaingay niyang pag-iyak.

In short, I stayed up late last night watching over my Mom who has BPD, a complicated mental illness which usually begins in early adulthood. She just turned thirty-five this year.

Bumalik ulit ang tingin ko sa lamesa. I chuckle. I can feel how my shoulders shake in amusement. Though, there's nothing funny to laugh at. It's just that the person had forbidden me to vandal by doing the act itself. Hipokrito!

I already have a hunch that whoever it is, is from section A - the highest section in every junior high school level here in Collins High. I am sure it's also not from section B. Students there may follow rules, but they condone irresponsible acts. Section C? Nevermind my section. Basta, mahal ko dito. Komportable ako dito.

Hindi ko namalayang naisalin pala sa salita ang mga tanong na iniisip ko . I laugh out loud when suddenly, I become aware of the quiet atmosphere. It then turns into an awkward ambiance. I suddenly feel stares. It's like all their attention are casted on me.

So I glance up. There, I notice the eyes of my classmates staring at me like I did something ridiculous. There, I meet Miss Reyes's sharp glare under her spectacles.

Even her lips are folded on thin line. Some veins on the side of her forehead are popping. Her brows, snapped together. Her eyes, leering at me with annoyance. The forehead, crumpled.

"What are you laughing at, Miss Mandeville?"

Nahigit ang aking hininga. I shake my head, still biting my lower lip, trying hard not to grin from the thoughts I still have on whoever replied to me in this seat. "Nothing, Ma'am."

She harshly hits her table with the one-meter long stick that she always brings with her. Almost all of us are taken aback. Gasps of horror envelops the whole class!

Miss Reyes folds her lips into a thin line. Her face, screaming strictness. There are thin lines on her forehead and on the corner of her eyes. Her hair is a bit grayish now. Her eyes narrow as she eyes me. Yumuko ako, iniiwasan ang simangot niyang mukha.

"You were late. I let it pass 'cause maybe, you have a valid reason...But then, you have the audacity to make a noise around while I'm teaching!" she scolds.

But...you were just writing on the board earlier. You were not teaching. I mean, she's not really teaching. She'd just make us write for hours, expect us to memorize even the conjunction of the terms and definitions she presented to us, and then we'd have no discussion to hear.

"Sorry, Ma'am." I bite my lip.

When you apologize just for the sake of apology for you are in denial to admit your fault, it will only make you feel guilty, but not sorry at all. That is what I am feeling right now. It does not feel right to utter the word 'sorry' if you were just obliged to say it. Pakiramdam ko ang sama kong tao.

Miss Reyes turns back to the board. Yet the class remains soundless.

"Stand up until my class is finished.. I would rather have you in my class than to waste a time inside the detention room."