MES: Trick or Treat

Night Escapes

Written by: Mizujin

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You've heard it all before: this kind of story, this kind of storytelling from this story teller in the same place and time of the day. It was all too familiar for you. But you've always thought that familiar is good, familiar is home.

As she had always been to you.

You know her old stories and her voice would always have a particular ring in your head, with pleasant beat and rhythm like the songs you like to drown yourself into--all the time. So despite already knowing the plot, you amuse yourself by still finding the intensity of her stories as strongly as the first time you've heard it, on that very same roof deck you accidentally chanced upon while waiting for her to come home from work.

The place was a bit unkempt with a few old furniture piled at one corner, the walls and floor with a few cracks and blackened spots, but it was decent for a humble space for solitude, away from cameras and distractions, it offered a view of the city, and it was the closet you can get to the moon you had always found soothing.

You discreetly rub your neck and ear for warmth in an attempt to pair with your chest that's already filled with it, as you kept her company. The midnight air is getting kind of chilly since December is just around the corner, so you know it was stupid to just bolt out of your apartment only in a pajama and a thin shirt, just to reach her fast as you could.

Well, you just had to.

Like other nights, you find her already camped by your unit's door, hugging her legs, eyes buried to her knees that conveniently reaches her face, hands trembling.

"Hi, Edward." Her voice cracks the moment she sees you.

"Hi, May." And a part of you breaks as you hear it.

And as always, you'll lend out a hand for her to hold so you can pull her to embrace and comfort properly. You'll feel something warm pool a small area of your shoulder, hands tightening around your waist while you feel her body slightly move, as she takes deep breaths.

It's a good sign.

You know it was rough for her--frightening--so all you can do is engulf her more in your embrace and hold her head steady with your hands and cheeks on her head, hoping you can store away all of her fears, just so you don't ever have to see her like this again, if possible.

The longest and deepest breath is always the sign of the chaos dying down, so this is when you loosen the embrace so she can raise her head and you can check her face: always tear stained and a bit pale, but always with a smile, albeit a thin one ready to break. Still, you know she'll always fight the pain if she can, just to make sure that in the end, you'll be wearing one, too.

And once you reach the roof deck, the "safe zone", she'll fire away with the narrative even before you get your butt on the floor.

"Tapos ganun uli, yung namulat yung mata ko tapos akala ko tapos na yung bangungot kasi namulat ko naman yung mata ko bago humarap sakin yung babae na mahaba yung buhok, pero bushak talaga, Edwardo! Ay, mabuang talaga ako, ang hirap dumilat! Yung anu ba, parang may barbel sa mata mo kaya ang hirap-hirap idilat..."

You understand that retelling the story was stressing her out because she had to re-imagine and re-experience it to release it out of her system, so you can't help but reach between her creased brows and smoothen it with your thumb to remove the frown building by the minute.

"Alright, alright. I get it, but just calm down, okay? Ang wrinkles."

And you know the act would always make her pause. At least for a short while, she would pause from the fear that you know was starting to unravel as she goes on with her story.