32 GB - Mikhaiah Fanfiction

13 - 32 Gigs

Cebu City  - April 12, 2024

I woke up a little later than I usually did, feeling the unfamiliar comfort of a restful sleep. Stretching, I slipped out from under the blanket and made my way to the kitchen, where I began to prepare breakfast. Each day, I found myself feeling a bit more accustomed to this new way of living. The gadgets, the appliances—even the air fryer Micah had shown me—were starting to make some sense. I was still baffled by most of it, but I didn’t feel quite as lost as before.

As I was cracking an egg into the pan, I heard Micah’s voice calling out from the living room.

"Ai… Ai..."

I wiped my hands on a dish towel and peeked around the corner. “Hello, yes?”

Micah stood there, grinning like she’d found a hidden treasure, holding a small, black object in her hand. “I bought something… Come closer. I wanna show you…”

I walked over, my curiosity piqued. She held up the little black item with a flourish. "Tadaa," she announced with a playful excitement.

I stared at it, blinking. “What’s that?”

Micah laughed softly, clearly amused. “Oh… wait, I forgot that you don’t know…” She chuckled again, and I felt a little heat rise in my cheeks. It was still so strange, having someone guide me through all these new things. "It’s an SD card... 32 gigs. It’s only small, but it helps."

“An… SD card?” I repeated, trying to wrap my head around it. “What is it for?”

She held up a small silver camera from her pocket, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “This baby right here.”

I watched closely as she clicked a button on the camera, revealing a tiny slot. She inserted the SD card into it with a gentle push, then closed it up again. “I’ll show you how to put it in,” she explained, but she’d already done it so effortlessly.

“Okay, so now you can use it…” she said, handing the camera to me.

I took the camera carefully, my fingers fumbling over its cool, smooth surface. "But I— I don’t know how to," I admitted, feeling a bit sheepish. The camera was so light, so small compared to the hefty, familiar weight of my old film camera.

“That’s what I’m here for, to teach you.” She smiled, moving a bit closer to me. “Okay, hold it up and point it at the object you want to take a photo of, and then press that button. You’ll hear the shutter click, and then that’s it.”

I did as she said, lifting the camera and aiming it at a potted plant on the windowsill. Pressing the button felt instinctive, and the soft click of the shutter was oddly satisfying. "Okay, so it’s gonna print out?" I asked, looking at her expectantly.

Micah chuckled again, that sound becoming more and more familiar, like a melody I was starting to learn by heart. “No, it’s digital, like everything else I showed you before.”

She reached over and pressed another button on the camera, and suddenly, the screen lit up, showing the picture I had just taken. “See here? You press this button, and it shows you your gallery. Your gallery is basically the film roll.”

I stared at the little screen, a tiny version of the world we were in right there in my hand. It was nothing like the photographs I knew, but there was something thrilling about it. "That’s… incredible," I murmured, genuinely amazed. I glanced up at Micah, who was watching me with a fond expression, her eyes bright.

"Thank you for showing me," I said softly, and I meant it. It wasn’t just about the camera—it was everything she’d been doing to help me, to ease me into this strange new world. I was beginning to realize how much I’d come to rely on her, how much I looked forward to these moments we shared.

Micah’s smile softened, and she nodded. "Anytime, Aida Anytime."

-

After that moment, we slipped back into a rhythm that was becoming familiar, yet new in ways that made my heart flutter. I spent the rest of the morning with the camera in my hands, exploring the apartment with fresh eyes. Each time I found something new to photograph, Micah would guide me through it, her patience never wavering. The gentle way she explained things to me, her hands sometimes brushing against mine to adjust the camera, made me feel strangely safe, like maybe this modern world wasn’t so daunting after all.

As the afternoon sun streamed through the windows, Micah suggested we go outside and take more photos. She led me to the park and I found myself captivated by the vibrant colors and how the light filtered through the branches, casting long, dancing shadows on the ground.

We wandered the paths together, Micah pointing out good angles or interesting subjects— the reflection of clouds in a small pond, the way a child’s kite soared against the clear blue sky. Each new scene felt like a discovery, and I eagerly snapped photos, finding joy in capturing these little moments.

As we walked, I became more comfortable with the camera, and soon it became less about the mechanics and more about the experience. I caught Micah in a candid shot—her head tilted back in laughter, the sunlight catching her hair just so. She looked so free in that moment, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey, let me see that one,” she said, noticing the way I was looking at the screen. She leaned in close, her shoulder brushing against mine. I felt the warmth of her body next to me, and my breath hitched for just a moment.

I turned the camera so she could see, and her eyes lit up. “Oh, wow,” she said, grinning. “That’s actually a good one! You’ve got a great eye.”

A soft warmth spread through me at her words—praise from someone who truly knew her way around a camera. “Thanks,” I replied, my voice a little quieter than I intended. “I suppose I’ve had a good teacher.”

We continued walking, but there was a newfound ease between us. We’d laugh and joke, and as the hours passed, I felt like I was seeing more of Micah—the person beyond her kindness and her quirky explanations. She’d open up about her life, her family, her dreams of becoming a filmmaker. Her passion for the art was evident in the way her eyes lit up and how she described scenes and stories with such vividness. It reminded me of how I used to talk about photography, back when I thought that’s all my life would ever be.

By the time we started heading back, the sky was painted with shades of pink and orange. I was carrying the camera in one hand, and Micah had her hands in her pockets, her steps relaxed and easy.

“Today was nice,” I said, glancing at her. “It’s been a while since I felt… I don’t know, normal.”

Micah smiled, a soft, understanding smile that seemed to reach right into me. “I’m glad. You deserve some normal, even in all this chaos.”