CHAPTER 1

     Catherine’s eyes fluttered open with the buzzing sound of the alarm clock blaring from her nightstand. There were prickles of sweat tracing down her neck, so she used her duvet in order to wipe it off. She also noticed her heart beating rapidly, and about two seconds later there are footsteps heard from the other side of her door; then pounding.

     “Catherine! Are you all right?” asked her mother. “I’m going in.” And so, she did.”

     She caught a glimpse of her daughter breathing heavily, her eyebrows furrowed and gazing at her familiar surroundings. Anita grew even more concerned by this sight, pulling her daughter into an embrace.

     Catherine felt it was a bit of an odd gesture. She isn’t sure when the last time Anita had hugged her, but she is quite sure that it was such a long time ago. But she needed it, so bad. So, she just accepted, enveloping her mother back. She didn’t realize that there were tears streaming down her face until she was already sobbing. Her heart felt as if it was being magnetized by the floor. It was painful, and she wanted it to stop.

     She wanted the nightmares to stop. It felt as if she is forever haunted by the grave mistake that she did ten years ago. As much as she wanted to seek help to break off of her unforgiving self, she didn’t want to bother her mother with it. So, she had spent ten years of her life wallowing in self-hatred. She couldn’t stop blaming herself, though her mother had already assured her that all was forgiven. Everybody had exculpated her except for herself.

“I’m...fine,” Catherine said finally. “I’m fine now. I’m all right.”

She finds it quite difficult to be honest with her mother. Anita has been dealing with too much stress for her to add up by sharing her own problems that can potentially be hers, she thought.

“Are you really?”

She sniffled. “Yes. It was just another nightmare.”

“Well, it must have been such a terrifying nightmare.” Catherine pulled away from the hug and nodded at her mom, like a signal that she is perfectly okay.

“It isn’t real,” Catherine replied cynically.

But the whole thing was very real. Ten years ago. Her mind created their own renditions of the incident, turning into a nightmare. Be it in an office, on a street, at a park, on a beach resort, it all fell down the same path: Felipe goes missing, Catherine puts the blame on herself.

“I’ll head downstairs now. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m all right, mom.”

An hour later, Catherine was already fully dressed for school. She was on her usual white blouse and black slacks and heeled peep toes. Her school might not have an assigned uniform, but they were very strict when it comes to dress codes. Dresses that goes above the knees are forbidden, so were sleeveless tops. So Catherine’s wardrobe followed through the rules—it had to.

“There’s banana bread and avocado slices on the table—” said her mom, but she was immediately interrupted by Catherine, pulling her purse towards her shoulder.

“I am so sorry, mom. I...I don’t feel like eating. But I’ll grab breakfast on campus, I promise,” she advised before rushing out of the door and heading over to the school. Mentally reminding herself of her assignments and her flash drive that contained the papers she needed to submit for that day.

     Catherine was in the midst of scanning through Pride & Prejudice when she heard arguments coming from the dance hall she was passing through.

      “I don’t understand. You have done it perfectly a while ago, but now it’s like you are half-assing all your movements! Ballet is not about half-assing the moves,” said a very assertive male voice. Catherine thought that the ballerina must be fucking up so bad for a teacher to swear, but what did she knew about the instructor anyway? Maybe he was the type to swear.

     “I just need a little bit of rest, then I’ll be good to go again! I have been dancing for two hours with very little breaks! I’m hungry and exhausted!” The ballerina defended herself.

     Inside, Catherine felt bad for the ballerina. Dancing for two hours must hurt the tip of her toes and her entire flexible body. She knew what the ballerina was going through, because she had been in her position once upon a time.

     Out of curiosity, she took a quick glance off the window at the door, and saw a saddened-looking ballerina in front of the assertive man she slightly recognized because she had encountered him on the halls from time to time. She, then, shook her head and continue walking, reminding herself that eavesdropping is not her thing, so she carried on to her next class. But the look on the ballerina’s face altered her mood a little, because she saw herself in the same situation when she was just a little kid, and that the ballerina might have rang her heart a bit.