Short Stories (Reminisce)

8

10:00 pm

I lighted the candle, waiting for its own tears to gather and make it stand. Then, thoughts clouded my mind.

I am a candle, when lighted, cries and without tears it won't stand unless something's supporting it.

I close my eyes as I mumbled a prayer.

Then a familiar scent engulfs my place. The scent of blooming sampaguita. Eversince that day, It happens every 10:00 pm.

A sampaguita with a hint of candle scent. She don't know why it calms her. At first, it frightened her but as days passed by I found myself waiting for 10 pm, without it my night won't be complete.

On the way home, She was riding a bus. 10 pm it pause on a bus stop then she felt the seat beside her sink. Her skirt got seated by whoever sat next to her, he quickly stood up as he felt her trying to remove the hem of her skirt on his seat.

Grimaced was on his face, he looks tired and haggard but his eyes looks lively. He apologized, She forgave.

The whole ride, he was staring outside the window which made her uncomfortable, she was seated on the side corner, beside the window and it's awkward, She knows that he's staring outside but it felt like he's staring at her. So, she ask him if he want to exchange seats with her.

That was their first talk and fortunately it wasn't the last.

Every 10 in the evening, they share the seat on the same bus, even sharing one earphone, sharing laughs, same routine but the difference is he won't stare outside the window instead they will share how they day went by, what food they ate, where subject they had a hard time.

It all went by quickly, not even realizing that the bus was their only place, not realizing that they are enjoying themselves, not realizing that all ride will come to its boundary. Somehow.

Exchange seat proceeded to exchanging names. She didn't realize that it went too fast, without a doubt she gave in. She fell.

I fell-- but not hard as what they say, it was slow and it feels right, like it was the best thing and it was the best feeling. The best of the bests.

They enjoyed each other company, she enjoyed him, his time, his laughs, his stories, his crazy and weird thoughts, his perspective in life.

He says he feels the same, he enjoyed her time, her smiles, her giggles, her thoughts, her stories, her perspective in life.

Without life there's no death. Without death, life's.. how's life without death? She once thought.

He answered it with "Life without death? It's boring, dangerous and at the same time exciting. Wanna bet?" She can clearly see herself nodding at him, he looks dashing whenever his emotion changes, from jolly to serious.

"Okay, it will be boring, we won't feel fear, we will be doing extremely and almost all the things without what if's, we won't think of the consequences of what we're doing, we can swim as far as we want, hurt ourselves and we won't die but it can be dangerous, as I've said, we won't be frightened, it is possible to do all bad things without hesitations and life without death is exciting, no words just--- like this" He look at me then smiled.

"Exciting, 10 pm excites me, the thought of you excites me and it feels like whenever I'm with you, life has no boundary"

That night, November 10 at exactly 10:10, he confessed, we share not only the stories of how our day went by but we shared the same feeling, we didn't only exchange our seats and name, we exchange hearts.

I open my window, welcoming the scent of my favorite fragrance.

I wonder, how his day went by, did he smile just like how he smiled whenever he's with me, where is he right now?

The flames of the candle I lighted dance and without a second, it quell.

"Chance" It was a whisper that the wind flew it away. "Chance" I repeated, this time louder.

It's been 10 months. 10 months of not calling him by his name, of not saying his name. It felt long ago. Like our memories happened a very long time and his name, it feels empty without him infront nor beside me.

Once upon a time, I've been saying his name with laughters, calling him but now, it's impossible.

The scent of sampaguita doubled. Like it's intentionally prevailing, triggering his memories.

I stood up upon realizing that my tears is flowing rapidly. My chest is snugging.

Our love didn't end when the bus we were riding reached its boundary but when the bus we were riding got into an accident, it ends when it reached the boundary of all boundaries; Death.

He died.

Death, what is death without life? Is it even possible? It's impossible. But life without death? It can be but it won't be.

The sampaguita scent, the candle scent and 10 pm. He's all that.

I won't have a chance to see and talk to him, share how's my day went. He's now a memory forever will be printed in my mind, I won't have a chance to see the laughs I've been waiting, Chance.

You are my only supporter and without you, I can't stand. I'm a candle afterall, and now, all I have is my tears.

Tears to hold on, to fight and to stood on my ground.

You are my boundary, my ride to happiness and now my chance is gone because you ended, my one and only chance.