The Eastwood Archives is not a place to be crying your heart out after a heartbreak.
No, definitely not when the said public library houses endless rumors of a weird Library Ghost that appears at midnight.
But when Ebony Suarez, a graduating college...
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I used to ride a bicycle to school when I was in elementary.
I never told anybody how much that meant to me, and I don't think anyone could ever understand how happy I was doing such a mundane thing. I can say for sure that it was my favorite part of the day---waking up early in the morning just to take the long route to school on my yellow bike decorated with white ribbons and a small basket that was big enough to carry my snack box.
It felt liberating to ride against the wind on my face, floating my hair in all crazy directions, with the morning rays warming my skin.
'I wish I could ride a bicycle forever, everywhere!'
I remember not caring much about how disheveled I would look when I reached my destination. I cared more about the scenery of the rice fields and how the sky would change just a tad bit of color each day. Whether it's with the sunrise or the sunset, I loved being a part of it. It felt like an intimate moment, to be able to freely do what what you want.
To make that child happy.
'It's easier to be happier when you aren't aware of the horrors brought by adulthood. All the responsibilities to yourself and other people, all the pressure from academics, and the never-ending feeling that everything is a survival of the fittest,' I thought in dismay. It took me a long time to admit that to myself, and not once have I wished I could reverse time and be a child again.
I'm not saying that I had the best childhood years, of course. But it's so much more bearable compared to what life has in store for me right now.
I feel like I don't know myself some days, and that image of a happy child in my memory feels like a stranger.
I don't even know if my inner child is happy with me. Probably not. She'd probably ask me what went wrong and hold my hand, telling me it would be alright. And I will always carry the guilt of never being able to heal her, instead.
My phone's ringtone called me back to the present day. I stopped walking and fetched it from my pocket, frowning upon realizing it was an unknown number.
"Who the heck would call me at this hour? I'm almost late for class!"
I quickly declined the call and put my phone in 'do not disturb' mode before replacing it inside my jacket's pocket. That was when I realized I stopped in front of the pedestrian crossing where several other people who looked like they were in a hurry were waiting for the green light. At that moment, my eyes drifted towards a nearby shop across the street.
Particularly to the bicycles on display with a "for rent" sign neatly written in calligraphy. It was a small shop with a glass window, and if anything it looked homely and well-taken care of by the owners.
I stared at the sign for a moment too long, contemplating something.
'Should I?'
I suddenly remembered Ronan and his unusual jar of things he'd given up.
