DIARY OF VALERIA [ COMPLETED ]

Chapter 9

On that very day, I decided to skip class. Besides, I have a perfect attendance, the semester was almost over, and I would be graduating soon. What's 1 day of skipping class? Also, I needed to prepare myself.

If my theory about Valeria was true, that she belonged to the first tribe, and she has mystical snake hair. Then she must be dangerous, and I must be leading to my own death. But, I couldn't think about that right now. The danger is there, but it was clouded by the excitement of meeting her in person. Immortal as she is, her existence would change the history of this nation forever, if not, the world.

I texted Albert and told him that I will be staying at home the whole day. He might get the impression that I will be joining him for lunch today, at the university canteen like we usually do. He replied, telling me that he would be heading to UP Town Mall with his buddies.

UP Town was a mall near the university, and students with nothing to do went there to hang. I went back to my room and checked my wardrobe. What exactly should a guy wear if he's meeting an immortal? I didn't have a lot of clothes to choose from, and I hate myself for not buying decent ones. I picked a standard polo shirt and khaki pants. Regardless of the danger, I wanted to look presentable at least.

Hours passed and I spent the entire day thinking, tensing about the date I'm about to have with Valeria. It's not actually a date, is it? Anyway, it doesn't matter. It's 5PM, and I'm already in the bathroom, taking a nice bath. I used a sponge and body wash instead of regular soap. I even used conditioner for the first time. I brushed my teeth, and gargled mint-flavored mouthwash.

I wore my polo shirt and khaki pants, then used the leather shoes I set aside for special occasions. I even put hair products in my hair so it didn't look out-of-place. And before 6:30PM, I was ready. I didn't know that dressing up was hard work. I wonder how Albert does it so easily, because compared to me; he's the one who's always dressing up nicely.

I stood in front of the mirror to look at myself for the last time. I inhaled, and released a long breath to allow the tension to soothe out of my system. I then proceeded to go to the café.

The moment I stepped foot on the doorstep, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Nearly convinced that it was a dream to see her in flesh, but there she was, sitting at the balcony of Café Xocolat. A slight distance from the clamoring of students, she was alone in the corner, waiting for me - her potential victim. It was easy to find her; her presence was like a goddess among mortals. From where I stood, I can tell that she was savoring the feeling of being surrounded with youth. The vibrant energy of being young seemed glorious to her. She was definitely entertained.

I wasn't sure if she knew that I was watching her. From the outside, she was a vision, a moving spectacle that seems like an apparition. She was real; I had to convince myself that I wasn't dreaming. Then, a horn blew from the other side of the road, bringing me back from my musing. I almost stumbled, but immediately found my footing. When I looked back at the balcony, I almost swallowed my tongue because she was staring right back at me! The intensity of my excitement caught me off guard. My heart leaped, I was trying awkwardly to give a smile. I stood fidgeting, like a little boy. I had to do something quick, rather than make a fool of myself in front of the café, like a deer hit by a headlight. Her eyes were perusing me, as I shambled my way to the entrance. In less than a minute, I was already standing in front of her. I was very nervous. My hands were shaking when I extended it to her and introduced myself. Her lips coiled in a smile, as she graciously extended a hand to receive mine. Sweat dripped from my temple, indicating how tense I was with this meeting. She seemed to be enjoying the sight of myself almost in the brink of fainting, while I held her hand. Her touch was warm; I could almost feel the feverish temperature of her body, from her hand to mine. Probably because she wasn't human at all, and her temperature was different from a normal human being like myself. Her smile widened, as she released my hand and pointed to the chair across her, inviting me to sit down.

My eyes were fixed on her face, as I moved towards the chair. Beautiful was an understatement to describe her. Her face was regal and angelic. She was wearing a black turban on her head, with a huge diagonal sapphire stone at the center of her forehead, wrapping it as if it's the most delicate part of her body. I wondered how long her hair was, but I knew that I was fooling myself because I was afraid to face the inevitable. I was afraid to accept that the legend about Valeria was true. I didn't want to embrace the unbelievable truth that instead of thick lush, silky hair, the monstrosities that were hiding behind the turban, was a myriad of deadly, black venomous serpents.

She appeared to be younger than I expected, but I knew for a fact that she existed long before the revolution ignited this country, long before the Philippines declared independence. I knew from my research that the legend of Valeria irrupted in the barrios of the Visayas region during the Spanish colonization, and this was followed by several sightings of her in the mountain region of Luzon, when the American invasion took place. She was old, a true immortal.

But her face didn't reveal her age. So, how old was she?