Beyond the Hourglass

Chapter 1

There's a tear dropped in my left eye as I woke up. That was one hell of a dream.  

Ang bigat ng pakiramdam ko. Ramdam ko pa rin ang sakit at pighati dulot ng panaginip ko. It felt so real, as if the darkness and despair had seeped into my bones, leaving me shivering and hollow.

I sat up slowly, the sheets clinging to my skin, and tried to shake off the remnants of the nightmare. My heart raced, and my mind was still clouded with images of the man—the blood, the urgency in his voice, and that haunting promise that echoed in my head.

Sa paglingon ko sa aking pamilyar na kwarto, nawala ng bahagya ang takot na nararamdaman ko. The walls were adorned with posters of my favorite bands, the clutter of books and knickknacks scattered about—a stark contrast to the sterile chaos of the mansion from my dream.

Ngunit ang bigat na nararamdaman ko ay nandito pa rin. Pinunasan ko ang luha sa mata ko, isang paalala ng sakit at takot. "It was just a dream," I whispered to myself, though the doubt lingered in the back of my mind.

Ibinaba ko ang mga hita ko sa kama at tumayo, naramdaman ng paa ko ang lamig ng sahig. The chill jolted me, bringing a sense of reality back into focus. "Kalimutan mo na 'yon" I took a deep breath, forcing myself to forget the feeling of running in the mansion.

I shuffled to the small bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, and stared at my reflection. My dark hair was a tousled mess, at namamaga ang mga mata ko. I could still see the remnants of the tears in my eyes, and I frowned at my reflection. I look like hell.

"Get it together, Celestina." I sighed.

After a quick shower and a change into comfortable clothes, I made my way downstairs. My mother was already in the kitchen.

"Good morning, ma," bati ko sa kanya. 

Hindi man lang niya ako nilingon habang nagtitimpla siya ng kape. "Anong oras ka na naman nagising." 

Napatingin ako sa orasan. Nine-thirty. Hindi naman late pero hindi nga rin naman maaga para simulan ang araw. 

"Three-thirty pa naman ang pasok ko, ma," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

She finally glanced up, her expression a mix of annoyance and disapproval. "Huwag ka ngang tatamad-tamad, Celestina. Kababae mong tao hindi mo maayos-ayos 'yang oras mo. Ano, habang buhay ka na lang bang pabigat dito?"

The familiar sting of her words hit me like a cold splash of water. It was a routine by now—her sharp remarks that sliced through my attempts to engage, reminding me of the invisible line between us. 

Pero ang lagi ko ngang sinasabi sa sarili ko, pasok dito, labas sa kabila. And it works every time.

"Hindi naman po ako nag-puyat." I said, keeping my tone as calm as possible. 

She shook her head, dismissing my explanation. "Tignan mo 'yang bill ng kuryente," sabay bato ng isang sobre sa lamesa, "Asan na ang pambayad diyan?"

My heart sank at the sight of the envelope. It was the same argument over and over—bills, money, and my supposed lack of contribution to the household. Kahit na siguro isalang ko ang sarili ko, it will never be enough for her.

"Ma, may pambayad po ako, hintayin niyo lang ang sahod sa katapusan," I said, though I knew my words wouldn't make a difference. Every time, it felt like she was waiting for me to fail.

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Saan mo ba ginagasta 'yang pera mo at wala kang naiipon? Kaysa ipambili mo yan ng mga damit na hindi naman bagay sayo, ipambayad mo sa gastusin, ha."