Antagonist's Tale XXXVIII: Romania's Rest House & Poland's Meadows
How can humans not be dead?
Hindi ko masagot ang tanong na iyon. Sapagkat sa tatlumpong taon na ako'y nabubuhay, sampung taon doon ay ako'y patay na.
Aking napagtanto na ang ating katawan ay hindi repleksyon ng ating kaluluwa.
I may be a hybrid of some sort. Physically intact and whole, but inhumanely broken and despair. Alive in body, but dead and rotting in soul.
It's a wonder to me. A wonder how humans can actually be wholly alive and not be dead inside. How do they manage to that?
For I had long sent myself to the coffin, attended my funeral, and walked away with my shades, black umbrella, and heels, with nothing but a single emotion that I spared from being buried from the grounds of the graveyard: anger.
Ang mga bangungot na kay tagal humahabol sa akin ang muling destino ng aking panaginip.
Andoon muli ako sa kwartong iyon. Ang mga paputok at siyahan ng buong mundo ay nasa salaming bintana lamang. Ang aking tingin ay nasa pinto, ang gilid ng mata ay may dumadaloy na luha.
The door had always been close. No one had ever opened it to rescue me.
"Hiraya," someone whispered far away.
Umulit ang pagtawag sa akin. Ang bangungot ay nanginig. It glitch as the voice becomes profound.
"Hiraya. . ." Ngayon ay akin nang nadama ang boses malapit sa aking tenga.
And then the nightmare shattered apart. Glorifying light beams trespassed through the broken shards of glass.
I can hear music. Can see an angel's wings. A kiss on my forehead. Then a soft voice.
I fluttered my eyes open.
Bumungad sa akin ang chandelier ng kwarto. Isang kamay ang marahang humahaplos sa aking buhok upang ayusin.
Lumingon ako sa aking katabi at nakitang pagilid itong nakahiga upang maharap sa akin.
His bed sprawled hair across his forehead, the sharp nose I could easily trace with its closeness, sleepy sea eyes cloaked in the thick lashes.
"Hi," mas mababa at baritono ang boses niya tuwing umuga. Mas pabulong at mas mahangin.
"Kanina ka pa gising?"
"Not long ago." Ang kaniyang mainit na kamay ay nasa aking pisngi. "Tell me, what did my sweet realist dream about?"
His thumb's slowly brushing mga cheek. Ako ay bahagyang napapikit.
"I forgot," aking pagsisinungaling.
"Was it a good dream?"
"I-" ako'y napatigil. It did become a better dream than my usual ones. Sapagkat nasira ito sa dulo. "It's an improvement."
Pabulong ang aming mga boses habang nakamasid sa mata ng isa't isa. Ilang pulga lamang ang kalayuan niya mula sa akin.
"I want to hear it."
"Next time," aking bulong. "I'll tell you my dreams next time."
Lumapit siya upang halikan ang tungki ng aking ilong bago marahang tumango. Ang kaniyang mainit na bulkuladong mga braso ay pumalupot sa aking bewang.
"What do you want to do today?"
"Pupunta tayong museum," paalala ko nang may kauting diin sapagkat alam na agad ang sasahestyon niya.
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