Entry #5
He wakes up from his dream with a start-trashing and screaming, sweat covering his whole body. He sits idly on his bed, yet his heart is threatening to jump out of its cage while his raspy breaths fill the silent spaces of the room. With a trembling hand, he brushes away the strands of hair that is sticking on his face, making way for the tears that are slowly welling in his eyes.
He dreamt of it again, that thing that happened one week ago. It all happened last Friday night when he and his friends were supposed to be enjoying their pre-graduation party-a fun time that soon turned into a tragedy. He didn't mean to do it, it was an act done on idiocy and alcohol. If he could turn back time, he would have done otherwise.
Yet, every time he closes his eyes he remembers every act he did on that poor, poor girl. With a sigh of frustration, he plops himself back to his bed and puts a hand on his face as he starts to cry, sweat and tears mixing.
"I don't want this anymore," he murmurs through gritted teeth. Is this the price he has to pay?
"But isn't that what you always wanted?" a cold feminine voice asks.
"No, how-"
He sits on his bed, blood draining from his face. For the first time he notices the strong smell of iodine and alcohol on his room, something that has never been familiar in his old, rustic apartment he has been living for five years. He roams his eyes around the room and notices how eerily still it is, none of the familiar angry whirring of his old unoiled fan, neither the monotonous ticking of the clock, nor the slight noises from the neighboring rooms, nor the gentle movement of the curtain being blown by the wind.
Everything has stopped, and in his room there is only him and the voice.
Then the shadows begin to shift. At first it is a slight movement until it turns into a frantic one. From every nooks and corners of his room, it creeps towards the center of the floor. The moonlight spilling from his window illuminates the black mass like a theatre spotlight introducing its main character.
It remains still for a couple of seconds until it begins to rise from the floor, gradually giving it a human form. "Did you not really mean it?" it asks, anger dripping from its voice.
He scurries to the wall, somewhat providing him the support he needs to sit upright. The voice is all too familiar for him. "I-I...really didn't-" he stutters as he feels his lungs not getting the air it needs and his heart beating too wildly for him to calm. "I wanted to help you. I swear! B-but...but-I"
"But you are a selfish coward, you sorry excuse of a human being!" It screams, its high pitched voice tearing the silence of the night, piercing not only the ears of the man but his already beaten up conscience. "Now, you shall pay."
Without notice, the man begins to scream in pain as his fingers snap one by one on their own accord.
"One for each of my dreams you shattered," the girl says. "You dream of becoming a professional basketball player, right? No more of that, too."
As if on cue the man's legs begin to twist, turning a complete 180 degree. A harrowing scream echoes through the room. He tries to escape, unceremoniously throwing himself on the floor to crawl away from the girl. Despite the pain and tears, he pushes through with the escape even when his body is pleading for him to stop. His actions become more frantic as he reaches the door, outstretching his hand towards the doorknob with vigor. Escape, he thinks. But his small victory is short-lived as an invisible force tugs him from behind and slams him on the concrete walls, air leaving his lungs. He feels his back break on impact, arching his body as he falls on the floor.
But it doesn't end there. He is lifted up again and is thrown from all sides of the room. One, two, three, four, five, and more. He loses count of how many time it is done on him. When will this end? He wonders. With a final slam on the ceiling, he is finally thrown back to the floor.
"You hit me with your car. You say you were drunk, but that doesn't matter because you still hit me with your car."
He can't move any longer. All he feels is the pain resonating all throughout his body. He sees himself bloodied and bruised, unrecognized from all the beating. He notices too that the girl is no longer a mass of black shadow, but rather she looks just like him, bloodied and bruised - just as she was the first time he saw her lying on the street.
"I was still awake then, in pain but very much awake. You saw me like this. But what did you do? You covered my mouth. You tied me up, my wrists, and my ankles so I wouldn't move. How could I move? My bones were already broken."
He cowers in fear yet at the same time sad for he remembers it all and that he knows that she is right. He was shocked when it happened. The only thing he could think of was to save his own skin. He was a graduating student. He was already on his way to achieving his dreams. He couldn't let such accident rip it apart. He is indeed a coward.
"And then you took me inside your car. Thought you were taking me to a hospital, but no! You took me to an abandoned place to set me on fire! I was still alive, you heartless coward! You and your friends could've helped me!" Her voice booms in the room like lightning ready to strike its vengeance.
Shivers go up his spine, and he knows that she isn't ready to stop yet...
The air starts to fill with the pungent smell of burning flesh, and he knows immediately what is to come for him. The tip of his finger starts to burn aflame, slowly it crawls on his body, burning him from the inside out. He wants to thrash and pry himself away from the fire, but every slight inch of movement he does gives him immense pain. Instead, he just screams as he lies helplessly on the floor, burning while the girl watches him suffer the same way she did.
He loses count of the minutes waiting for the fire to stop consuming him. All that registers in his mind is his body slowly melting away. He wants to die or even just faint just to get away from all of these, but for some reason he can't. All he can do is think and realize that, again, she is right. He did mean it. He didn't save her because he didn't want to. He couldn't afford the stain it would make in his ledger. His heart sinks with the realization. He always knew that he is no noble man, but he never realized that he is that low.
"I am sorry," he says, struggling to get the words out of his mouth. If he can cry at the moment, he would. Not from pain, but from regret.
The fire slowly subsides and the feeling of pain is washed away. He was surprised to find out that his body is in good condition: no burns, no bruises, no broken bones. He is whole. He looks at her, his eyes full of hope. The girl also looks perfectly normal, there are no signs of torment on her body. A blank expression is plastered on her face.
"Is it over?" he asks.
The girly simply turns her head slightly towards the window, watching as the gray clouds slowly cover the moon. "No," she said. "You are stuck here. There is no escape for you. You will start again from the beginning; again and again until your real body wilts away."
And with that she turns away from him and disappears, and the man screams again as his torture begins anew.
----
Philippine Bulletin March 13, 2015
Jan Cruz, the primary suspect for the murder of 16-year old Anna Santos last March 6, 2015, is still in a comatose after finding him unconscious in his apartment last Wednesday. The 20 year old graduating student is said to be in good health and doctors could find no reason for this sudden occurrence. Relatives even claim that he looks like he is just sleeping.
He is currently admitted to a hospital in Manila where doctors examine his case.
The remaining suspects for the murder are already awaiting trial.
