Sometime, Somewhere, Under the Heavens

As a child --innocent, happy and mostly curious, there were things I’d been dreaming of— to get accepted in my dream university and to become a teacher.

Being born and raised in the province where life seemed to be typical, the Supreme witnessed how contented I was with my family and the standard of living we once had. The heavens became the ceiling of my childhood and young adolescent years. I was fascinated with its innate beauty; the meadows, blanketed with fresh, green grasses, fenced with tall trees, perfumed with sweet fragrances of flowering plants and with our farm producing  a bountiful harvest every year.

Going to school with five one peso coins rattling in my pocket, I was carefree and always feeling excited to learn new things every day. Despite the roller coaster ride of life, my elementary and high school days were full of fun that made my heart thump with glee, giving me a nostalgic feeling whenever memories came across my mind.

After 12 years of striving hard in school, there came the fourth of April of the year two thousand and nineteen, the day that my batch mates and I had been waiting for. Nostalgia, excitement, and pride lingered the air. My heart was overflowing with emotions when I saw my parents’ eyes sparkling with fulfillment. Their labor had been paid off because their eldest daughter was graduating with flying colors.

“Nay and Tay, thank you for everything. Without you two, I wouldn’t be here standing in front of the crowd, delivering my speech.” I said, while my eyes were brimming with tears.

I knew that I was one of the happiest people that time. And just like any other important events in my life, every single moment of what happened on that day became a memory worth reminiscing.

Looking at the heavens, there’s one thing I was sure of, that it was just the beginning of my endeavors toward reaching my dreams.

I never thought that preparing for college was somehow difficult. I was grateful that I passed the college admission test at my dream school, the •••• ••••••• State University. The name of this institution, when mentioned in our place, was screaming for its sacredness and there’s nothing I could be grateful and proud of, than passing the Standardized Admission Test for Teachers, as well as the interview.

It was one of my answered prayers. All of my sleepless nights, risking some opportunities and waiting for the results were paid off. I was sure of myself that I could handle everything.

Unfortunately, some things seemed to turn out differently from the way I wanted it to be.

Since I was living in the province and have to travel almost an hour and a half away from the city, I need to find a boarding house preferably, a walking distance from school.

Fortunately, my aunt, working as a medical representative, had been staying at one of the boarding houses with affordable bed-space for women and so my mother decided to let me stay there with her.

Fourth of August two thousand and nineteen-- a gloomy day before my first day of classes had started. The sun didn’t show up and the heaven was crying which flooded the streets.

Listening to the tapping sound of the raindrops on our tin roof, I was not feeling well, might be due to two days of having a fever. My mother was busy preparing my stuffs, I need to go to the boarding house and settle my things there.

Her countless reminders filled my room, along with the cacophonic sounds of the rain. Not feeling excited, I left the house, bearing within me the hesitations and fear of the future events.

“Would I really be able to handle things on my own?” I heaved a sigh.

The thought of being independent had scared me all of a sudden; it was my first time being away from my family.

Hazy thoughts bombarded my mind and I felt like I was carrying tons in my chest when my mother left. Tears began to well from my eyes, ready to fall at any moment.

After some time, my fever went back and it chilled me to the bones. I was grateful that my aunt was there to take good care of me and let me stay in her room for a while.

When the night time came, my fever cooled down because of the medicine she gave me, but I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about my first day as a freshman student. A mixture of excitement and anxiety clouded my being. And there, I prayed.

Even though the ceiling of the boarding house blocked me from seeing the heavens, I still closed my eyes and asked God for guidance and plead to make my first day of school memorable. And He did. But it’s just on my first day.

Things seemed to drift away as the days passed by, they became out of my control. I thought I could handle everything.

“Why do things would not fall on the right places?” I tearfully asked myself.

Everything became chaotic and nerve-wracking. I was overwhelmed with school works; I struggled for time-management and suffered from homesickness. I couldn’t adapt very well in my new environment.  It seemed like everything in my life turned upside-down, back to zero.

My nights were filled with mournful sobs and silent screams. I was devastated. I felt distracted because I was not used to noisy places, but my roommates were too loud. I also couldn’t focus on my assignments and projects because I was the one who did the laundry and cooked for myself. I felt unproductive and couldn’t catch up with the lessons because I felt restless.

I wanted to pull the days off so that it would be Saturday, then I could go home and rest. Things like that continued to happen until I became depressed. I felt suffocated and uncomfortable. Although I already had some friends in school, I still felt hollow deep inside. I also stopped doing the things I love; writing poems and stories. I didn’t know where to find happiness for myself, sadness has cocooned me.

The heavens have been my comfort zone since then. But during those times, while I was away from home, I wasn’t able to witness its beauty.

I succumbed under the ceiling but it didn’t let the heavens hear my cry.