Glimpse

V

Silence.

The sound of the rain can still be heard, but other than that, there's nothing.

He's alone once more, in this darkness — standing wet against the ground, and this time, it feels like gravity pulls him even lower. It feels heavy.

He wants to feel the guy's embrace again. He wants to go back inside of the van, cuddling with him.

But then... They did not exchange contact information...

They did not even know each other’s names…

With this realization, his eyes widened... And then he remembers....

He can't do that.

The realization hit him like a storm that rattled everything that the van contained. Everything they did inside — it slowly turned to dust in his mind.

He stands right outside where he was dropped off. He feels lost.

After several minutes, he starts walking helplessly in the middle of the darkness — only the sound of his wet school shoes, the rain, and its collision with the umbrella could be heard.

He did not call for a tricycle, which he usually did during most nights.

He feels the need to walk — to grieve.

He could feel the coldness the rain brings, but his heart feels like shattered ice crystals. He can hear the sound of the wind and the droplets, but all that can reverberate are the words of the stranger:

"Mabuhay ka sa paraang gusto mo."

Tears start to cloud his eyes, blurring his vision of the road to his home. The sobs came after that, yet he continued walking mindlessly to his house.

Can he really do that?

Can he really live for himself?

Can he actually live the way he wanted to?

If yes, then what will be the consequences?

If not, then how will it be called "living" at all?

He walks quietly under the moonless, rainy night of Tayabas and Lucena's borders. His polo is now dripping wet from the back and the sides, and his pants are already soaked with water from the splashes. His black leather shoes could not stop the water getting on his socks as well. His shoulders are wet even with the umbrella. It felt uncomfortable, but the rain is the only company he has for now.

It's his friend, after all.

It washed away all the sins that came with his short-lasting freedom.

His tears continue to flow down from his eyes, mixing with the puddles on the ground. It's as if the sky is grieving with him, as he saw a glimpse of what life could have been, had he ever tried to live it as his own.

Suddenly, the house he's coming back to for five whole years after a very long day at work now feels like an absolute escape from his own reality.

The tears were the remaining drops of freedom that were left inside a van. It is but a fleeting moment — an hour or so of his life, and it's all he could give himself. Later tonight, he will be suppressed once more by the reality crafted for him by his mother. A nightmare he chose for himself.

That ride might have been selfish, but it's a gift for his past and present. It might be a nightmare he will go back to over and over again in the future, but for him — it was a dream.

After several minutes that felt like forever, he arrives at the gate of a house he could never call a home.

He stands there for a few minutes just to mentally prepare himself. He takes some breaths in and out of him, and tries his best to smile as he silently grieved. He looks dazed, standing there quietly as he stares at the door.

The rain eventually stops, and he sighs heavily as he reaches for his left pocket, rummaging through it to feel something.

There is the handkerchief. His eyes widen in realization, but searches deeper, only to feel a circular thing with his two fingers.

He pulls it toward him and looks at it with every bit of guilt, regret, sorrow, and anger that he suppressed all his life — it was a ring.

His mother's ring, specifically.

And yet, he puts it on his ring finger, and sighs with a tired smile etched on his lips.

He opens the gate, closes it with no strength, and as he reaches for the door, he tries his best to shake away all the thoughts he has at that moment. He tries to feel at home.

The thing is, he always tries, but now it's even harder to do that.

He could hear the muffled sound of the television from the outside and the way the news went:

"Anim na sakay ng isang pampublikong van ang nasawi matapos itong mawalan ng preno at malaglag sa isang bangin sa Lucena, Quezon Province. Kinilala ang mga nasawi bilang sina Hector Almirez, ang driver, 50 taong-gulang, Josefina Ayala, 35 taong-gulang at ang anak niyang si Joseph, 10 taong-gulang, Rufino Angeles na isang janitor, 39 taong-gulang, Jennica Arcilla na isang estudyante, 19 taong-gulang, at Rey Santillan, 28 taong-gulang."

But unfortunately, the words seem to float through his mind — left unregistered.

It was left unheard.

Rey Santillan — that's the name of the guy he shared those moments with.

He twists the doorknob, and with a tired voice, announces: "I'm back..."

A mother and son look at the door — the mother showing a frown after hearing the terrifying news. The little boy runs towards him, as the mother follows walking in their direction.

"Yey!!! Daddy's home!!!" The little boy screamed as he hugged his father's thigh.

Of course... He's living this nightmare.

The mother remains silent as she observes her husband. She knows he's tired - no - exhausted with his day, judging by the look on his face, the state of his uniform, and the umbrella he used earlier.

It was also strange that he could not return her gaze for a reason. His eyes feel so dead, blending in with the darkness of the night.

She wants to hug him and say that she was worried because of the news that just flashed on the screen, but thought it best not to, just to not ruin his mood even further.

"Welcome home, Ronan." That was all she could say as she kissed his lips, but even that wasn't returned.

She knows it all too well. He did not belong in this house. He did not belong to them.