a piece of you

///

A screeching sound fills the room, jolting me awake. A light flashes through the slits of the shutters and runs along the poster that I had hanging up on the wall. Through my blurred vision, it dawns on me that the people in the poster were not of people that I know. 

The clock reads 3:15 and it surely wasn't a reasonable hour to be awake but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.  Taking in deep breaths, I rack my brain for something and anything that can explain why I, someone of Filipino-British descent, was in Japan.

My memories start to play like a film but it was a broken film.  Nothing made sense but you can see glimpses of it. An argument went down and a door is slammed shut then the person I argued with left... The thought brings an unfamiliar ache in my chest and I didn't like it one bit.

Pulling the duvets off of me, I stumbled over to get a sweater or anything to cover myself.  Maybe something to eat will help me to think. 

The fridge had only a few items.  There was meat, a tray of eggs, some vegetables that I doubt would be safe to eat at this point, and a milk only shy of two days from its expiration date.  The cupboards were also close to bare but I had found bread and a half used jar of jam. I think what I found will be good enough.

I think.

Taking a peek at the window as I toast the bread shows that the sun wasn't awake yet. The quiet sizzling of the egg on the pan fills the room and my jumbled thoughts on how I ended up here.

A Japanese anchorwoman's voice springs out when I open the TV set as I munched on my breakfast of what I force myself to believe as a 'decent' egg sandwich.

I was never the cook. 

The Japanese jargons enters one ear then exits the other and my eyes fly over to a picture frame hanging over the set.  I stood up and reached for it. It's a picture of me and someone else but their face was smudged, leaving only the neck down. Maybe it got wet somehow. 

As I fiddled with the picture frame in an attempt to open it, the TV suddenly turned off and I was left in the dark. 

Panic and fear started to take over me as I reach my hands out in front of me trying to find the light switch.  Me, trying to find a lightswitch in a room that I don't even know by heart is like finding a needle in a haystack.

The cool air slowly turned humid and beads of sweat started to form on my temples when suddenly a door that I hadn't noticed opened in front of me and a gush of light entered the room.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"

A stout yet short man stood in front of me with a face etched in relief.  I did not mirror the same expression for more than ever, I was confused. The man's attire spoke nothing of the Japan style that I had observed just moments ago.  He was wearing a long sleeved white shirt that was folded to his elbows, his forearm and maroon apron powdered white which water failed to remove.

"Hurry! You are going to miss him!" I suddenly found myself being handed a basket and dragged out of my known comfort of what I realized is now a storeroom. The man was frantic and words slur out of his mouth in a rush, his words covered with this accent that I only rarely came across with. 

But strangely enough, I managed to understand every word he had said.

"Hurry Madeline! You need to get the freshest!" With that I was pushed out and my jaw dropped as I take in what was standing in front of me.  The road was not cement but bricks and the people who passed by wore colorful skirts that covered their shoes and men with socks that met just below the knee.