Chapter 1

Year 2020

It was not the annoying alarm clock that woke Praxis with an air of slight discomfort this time in the cold morning, but the thin rays of the sun hitting his face straightway every time the curtain on his bedroom window was being blown hard by the breezy wind. The dazzling rays of the sun streamed in his bedroom as if waving at him by the swaying motion of the curtain. It went on and off. If only he knew that the sun would directly hit the room he had chosen in the new house they had moved into, he should not have set his alarm clock.

It was only a week ago that they had moved into this house without a healthy decision-making process. Newly painted with cream color on its both exterior and interior, their new house was a two-story building enough for five members. It was the sort of typical modern house with a flat-tiled red roof, full of windows, and wired with cameras on its every post. He could sense it was not a good idea to move, but not even an inch of him was part of this decision. An unexpected event in their lives adversely forced them, with his dad, to move with high hopes of starting over again. Something he wouldn’t want to think about in this cold morning.

He mechanically fumbled for the button of the digital alarm clock atop his bedside table, he briskly pressed it so it would not ring again after a while when finally touching it. He frankly never liked the ringing sound of it. Not the actual sound of it that seemed like a ringing telephone, but the memory it was bringing every time it rings. A suffocating memory, a ghost in his past that he badly wanted to forget. It was giving him a strange, longing feeling every morning. Desiderium could be the most veridical and apt word he could think of to characterize the feeling. It was like a living organism, following him around like a shadow. But he had no choice, that alarm clock was one of the things he had brought from their old house. Most of their stuff, even if some of it were new ones, had already been sold. His father said those were already old and scrubby. Others were burned. He knew his father was still in his own shell of constant grieving and was just making an excuse, so he simply kept something that would remind him that there could still be hope, and he chose an alarm clock.

Contrary to his imagined symbolism of an alarm clock, hope was something so fragile and refutable that he was never assured if that kind of thing really exists. He lightly rubbed his eyes before finally opening them, tilted his body to face the window, and yawned softly. He would face another morning just like yesterday. And just like the yesterday of yesterday. This entire picture seemed to be ceaseless, unending suffering masked with a lame euphemism called ‘life’, he thought.

Even though his body still did not want to, he unwillingly got out of bed. He sluggishly walked closer to the window and adjusted the blue curtain. He slowly turned to lean against the wall, resting his back with the half thought of abstaining from doing anything today, while facing across the entirety of his room.

It was not as big as his old room in their old house, and it either wasn’t small. The concrete wall was painted with light blue color that he wasn’t sure if complimentary to the house, but it finely suits his color taste. The prim gray-colored sheet and cover of the single bed, which was at least made him safe last night, was two meters away from the window. Aside from that, there was nothing special in his room.

As he cleared his mind, he thought: What could happen today? What things would he experience in this new place they moved into? For that, he had not the courage to think that he had not the least idea. He only thought of those questions because he knew he needed to prepare for what’s ahead, not because he was excited. He acknowledged it himself he was not ready and not willing to face his new life.

As they moved to a new house, it was necessary for him to move to a new school and today was actually his first day. He was only a freshman and the adjustments he had to go through were no joke. Besides, he recognized he’s still mentally unwell and lacked the presence of mind because of their recent loss. Those things were like excess baggage he had to undertake, the additional weight on his back, he thought.

After grooming himself, he quickened and went downstairs to have breakfast. He found his dad sitting on the maroon couch in front of the television when he went to the living room. He noticed there were bottles of beer in front of the couch. One was broken and the others were scattered on the floor. His dad was still wearing his white shirt and blue shorts that he hadn’t changed since yesterday.

“Drunk again?” he asked without expecting an answer. Even before they went into this house, his dad was like this. It could only be because of their recent loss. He couldn’t blame anyone, not even his dad.

His dad didn’t answer and was just quietly sitting, watching television.

He approached his dad and tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m leaving.”

His dad just nodded and he went straight to the doorway. Before he could leave, he noticed their calendar taped near the door. Today is May 7, 2020. That day was circled in black marker ink and below the number was written the small letter ‘S’. It caught a significant note and he remembered that he wrote it himself for a very crucial cause. He slowly tore up that part of the calendar, crumpled the paper with both hands, and threw it in the trash. Then, he left their house to go to his new school with the thought of everything seemed to be pointless now.

***

He took a quick glance at his watch. Past one o’clock in the afternoon, the students were asked to proceed to the covered court of their school for a special announcement.

This day was no special. He did not understand any slice of the lessons taught by their instructor because he was uninterested. He also had made no effort to talk to others for he thought that that would be pointless. Although some students were initiating a conversation, he had not given any interested rejoinder. It was as if he suddenly felt like he lapsed to a state of mind that everything was pointless now. After he saw the letter ‘S’ on their calendar, he thought there was no point in interacting with the world.

He was quietly walking down the uncrowded hallway of his new school as he went down the covered court. This day, his mind was a jar loaded with freezing air beyond the stage of satiety, preoccupied with something cold. Ironically, he was not thinking of anything in particular. Pensive by his thoughts, he did not notice it right away when he was bumped by a guy at his back. He quietly turned to see the eyebrows of the guy meet as they faced each other. His hair was in crew cut as he confidently stood in front of Praxis. His jaw was strong and masculine, standing about five inches taller than him, and his whole figure had a toned muscle angularity, which somehow, Praxis wouldn’t admit it, looking something to be envy of.

Praxis bent his head, showing he was not interested. And it’s not a submissive bow. It was a leave-me-the-fuck-alone bow.

Then, when he looked up, the guy still did not leave in front of him. Their eyes met and he saw its eyes, equally as expressionless as his, was screaming with pride and peremptoriness. This guy’s eyes were dark brown steadily looking at him with humiliation for no known reason. And Praxis did not like the looks of it.

“Freshman?” the guy asked with the tone of obvious arrogance. Praxis was not intimidated. In fact, he did not rather feel dominated. This guy felt like one of those bullshit people you could meet every day, he thought.

He did not want to answer because it would be pointless. It wouldn’t matter if this guy knows it. But because Praxis didn’t want any trouble like he thought this guy was insinuating, he nodded.

“Step aside.” There was a hint of authoritativeness in the tone of the guy he hated. As a matter of fact, he would have punched this guy on the nose if he’s on his normal self. But what punching an asshole would do? Nothing. So, he kept his control.

“What?”

“Step the fuck aside.”

Praxis insistently did not do as this guy ordered. He never liked feeding the arrogance. As the guy noticed Praxis’s insistence, he bumped on him once again and walked ahead. But before the guy left, Praxis glanced at his worn ID. Charles. Charles was the guy’s name.

What’s his problem? He thought.

After Charles left, he continued walking, withdrawing Charles off his mind. He calmly walked to the covered court of their school feeling less bothered by Charles’s unreasonable attitude. When he arrived, the students were already crowded in chairs and some people with authority were already arranging the set in front. He looked for a seat at the back and sat where he had no one next to him.

But unfortunately, the spot where he sat was like riding a jeepney. You can freely choose where you want to sit, but you can’t choose who sits next to you.

“You see that guy in front?” asked the guy who suddenly sat beside him, pointing at someone from the crowd. “Charles, the one you were with.”

He had no obligation to reply, but he did. “What about him?” He did not have to search for Charles; he knew what that guy looked like.

“You know what? He’s an absolute bullshit. A piece of shit who messes with people if he felt like doing it,” the guy said with the disgusted look on his face, arching his eyebrows.

Now that Praxis was able to observe what the guy next to him looked like, he could gather he was bullied by Charles. There was a brown stain on its white shirt, near the collar, possibly came from a coffee. They are of the same sitting height. This guy’s eyes were smiling, full of amicable fragments. He looked like a cheerful student who loves conversing with random people from time to time. He had this high-pitched tone that has a strong sense of joviality.

“I saw him, he hit you! He meant it,” the guy cried.

He knew for sure that Charles meant that, but it was not a big of a deal. He did not care much; perhaps he was thinking that everything is pointless and he was used to interacting with people like Charles. To cut the conversation off, he interrupted. “I’m Praxis, nice meeting you.”

The guy stared at him rather amused. “Praxis, such a unique name. Where did your parents get that from?”

Praxis did not want to be rude, but replying will pull off so much effort.

The guy spoke, apologetically, when he did not reply. “Sorry, I’m Nathan by the way. You can call me Nate for short.”

After their short introduction, it was a good thing that the special announcement had finally started. A person of authority walked in front and introduced himself as the dean of the school. Then, he introduced another man who has apparently hollow eyes wearing a dark blue barangay officer’s vest that stood in front.

“Students!” the officer pacified the court. “This will be short and quick so I need you to listen.”

“Is it just me or does he resembles someone?” Nathan whispered while rubbing his chin which Praxis ignored. Whoever that was, it’s out of his concern.

“I am one of this barangay’s officials and I have an important announcement to make. For the past week, there were three reports of missing people of your age in our neighboring barangays. For the past month, there were in total of 15 of them in our city,” the officer reported. Everyone was all ears including Praxis. He had a bad feeling about this announcement.

“Only kids were being kidnapped, right?” Nathan clicked his tongue. “I thought it was just kids and now we’re included?”

He didn’t know how to react to what Nathan had just said. This guy is hopeless, he thought.

“For the sake of everybody’s safety, we are going to implement a curfew. Every night, from eight o’clock to four in the morning, no one’s going out. Everybody lock your doors up and obey this measure.”

Everybody in the covered court gasped but not as stupefied as Praxis. He was bewildered for a moment, then stunned again, and shook his head. “No way,” he said sharply.

This is the reason why he was listening. This announcement could stop his plans for tonight. He sure did understand what this measure was for, he just couldn’t help but feel suddenly infuriated. There’s no way they’re going to meddle with my plans, this is my S-Day, he thought.

Nathan was staring at him again, amused. Praxis did not notice it until Nathan spoke. “Are you okay? Are you mad at me? Or are you just mad because you weren’t able to protect yourself from Charles? I knew it! You’re just like me.”

He glared at Nathan in disbelief and spat: “Go fuck yourself.” He quickly stood up and strolled to the egress of the court feeling irritated.

***

It was when he left the covered court that he felt the guilt kicking in.

He did not mean it when he said “go fuck yourself” to Nathan. He was just upset. He thought like he was a living irony. He knew that he had a lot of control, and then it would just pop like a bubble and act impulsively. Maybe he had no control after all and he could not just accept it.

He was thinking of meeting Nathan and give his apology, but he thought it would be as well pointless. He didn’t really know Nathan personally. Nathan just looked really nice so he felt guilty about what he said. Another thing is it was his S-Day, 7^th of May.

It was past six-thirty in the evening when he got home, still feeling guilty. When he entered their house, he was a bit surprised to find his dad cooking in the kitchen. Their house smelled sour because of the steam and so he assumed that it was his father’s cooking sinigang.

“I’m home,” he uttered. Tony, his dad, turned to him and smiled.

“I cooked something you’d love. Have a seat,” said his father, pointing at the chair below the table.

It astonished him to see his dad smiling again. It was a little atypical for Tony, but he was glad to see his father smile. For the past month of their grief, it was the first time that he saw his dad smiling again. He also noticed that their house was cleaner than usual. It appeared brighter because of the newly replaced bulb.

Tony approached him with a bowl of porridge in his hands. His father was also wearing a familiar apron. With the striped blue and a red and blue rose at one corner, he knew that apron very well. It was mother’s, he thought.

“You cooked,” he said, amused.

“I cooked.” The smile on Tony’s face did not fade. “Try it.”

Praxis took a spoonful of the porridge, blew it, and sipped the broth. It was hot and warm. It was drawing on his throat. The hotness and warmth were coming from different sources. The hotness from the soup and the warmth from something else he couldn’t explain, but it made him a little teary.

“It was. . .” he licked his lips. “It was tasty—it was great.”

And then Tony laughed heartily. It was a warm kind of laughter that you would not see every day. It was a rare laugh only visits when something good happens.

“I should cook often, you think?”

“Yes, yes. I mean—yes.” He did not know what to say. He was silent for seconds. “What’s your deal? I mean—what’s this?”

Tony was a bit hesitant to answer, scratching his head. “I’ve decided we should move on.”

Praxis nodded, and then he beamed. “You wanna start again?”

“I just felt like we have to start all over again. I knew it was hard after what happened. But there’s no other choice, is there?” Tony expressed.

Praxis could not think of an answer. He suddenly remembered that it was his S-Day that put him in a complete hesitation. After seeing Tony ready to finally move on, he did not know if he’s ready for his plan.

“Right, but why so. . . quick?” Praxis was also confused as to why it was all so sudden. It seemed like Tony’s mind was still in grief just this morning, and now his dad decidedly wanted to move on. Praxis was happy, he’s sure of that. He was just feeling odd and knowing the reason would be helpful.

“Is it way sudden, you think? It was a month ago. I have been thinking hard since day one. I saw you go to school this morning.” Tony swallowed that lump on his throat before continuing. “Why my son was able to keep going? Why can’t I? I felt like I failed as your father. I felt like I’m such an asshole for drinking beer and obsessing myself with doing nothing but torture myself. I can’t fail once more that’s why I thought we should. . . start again.”

Tony’s narration made a blaze in him. He could not explain the feeling. He was lost for words to say. It was as if he’s talking to a different person. It was very unusual of his father, but he’s feeling proud. He never knew that going to school would actually change something.

After they ate together, Praxis decided to change clothes and went for a walk. It was supposedly his S-Day, but he had no intention of proceeding anymore. Last week, as soon as they moved, he immediately looked for a place to hang out. He found an old five-story building that looked abandoned a couple of years ago.

He climbed the building up by its broken stairs until he finally reached the rooftop. The place looked dilapidated due to some stored broken chairs on the side. He cleared a part of one side so he could see across the city.

It was supposedly his Suicide-Day, 7^th of May. After his mother and sister’s demise one month ago from a car accident, he planned to kill himself. After all, he thought, everything is pointless. It didn’t matter anymore if he lives.

For the past month, there wasn’t a day that he didn’t cry over the traumatic incident. There was never a time that he did not think of his beloved family. It was all spinning in his head. It was as if he was in an endless loop, as if his sufferings have no end. He did not know what else the direction of his life was. He did not know if there was a destination. He had no idea what should be his next move. He was like a child lost in a dangerous forest with no trusted resources to start over.

It was his reason why he was sometimes acting so impulsive. It might be normal to lose your control when everything had fallen into pieces. It might be normal when you did not know where you are and where should you rest. He had lost his direction so he thought that no matter what he does, nothing will happen because it will end soon supposedly today.

His decision changed when he saw his father. It all had turned three-hundred and sixty degrees. And then it came to him. It will be totally unfair if he would kill himself. He would be one of those total bullshit, selfish bastards you meet every day that he always hated. He didn’t even think about Tony’s welfare, who was left with him, because he was too absorbed in his mother and sister’s decease.

He sat there at the edge of the rooftop thinking of everything else that matters. He closed his eyes and felt the surroundings. The night was cold, but at least there was warmth in his heart. Was he relieved? He did not know. All he knew was he would no longer pursue his plans tonight. He would start again with his father.

He did not know how it happened, but Nathan appeared in his mind. Perhaps he was still feeling guilty, and now he was more determined to give his apology. And then he thought of the announcement earlier at the covered court.

“Oh, shoot,” he whispered, realizing where he was.

As he opened his eyes, the surrounding suddenly lit up. There was a light coming from behind his back. When he faced the light source, there was a man pointing a flashlight at his face. He could not see the face of the man as the light was blinding him. He blocked the glare of the light with his palm.

“Were you absent, or did you just not listen to the special announcement?” the person said dominantly, full of authority. “What time do you think it is?”

As soon as the man lowered the flashlight, Praxis looked at his watch. It was already past nine o’clock in the evening. He remembered the contents of the special announcement earlier. It was about the curfew he felt irritated about. Seriously, why would I forget such an important matter? He thought. He looked again at the man he was talking to when he noticed that he was wearing a blue vest worn solely by barangay officials.

“It’s nine—will I be. . . punished?” he asked, a bit nervous about how this man presents himself in the dark.

The man clicked his tongue, gesticulated and inviting Praxis to come near. Reluctantly, Praxis moved his feet accepting the man’s invitation. As soon as he came close, he realized it was such a grave mistake. Suddenly there was a little pain in the side of his neck, and when he touched it, he felt something like a rash. It suddenly stung like a bite of an ant—a bee. He caressed the part of his neck that hurt and looked at the barangay officer. The officer had hollow eyes that he was certain it was the same officer that announced the curfew.

“What the fu—” He wasn’t able to continue.

The next thing he knew, he couldn’t feel his entire face, and it sent a mixture of discomfort and agitation in him. He fell down staring at the officer when he could no longer feel his own head. He had no idea what was happening to him and what was happening to his neck. He tried to bite his lower lip but he couldn’t even feel it as well. One thing’s for sure, the officer did it to him.

“What the fuck did you do?” His voice echoed when he shouted.

He was about to try to stand up when it was all so sudden that the numbness crept up his shoulder, up to his chest, and into his hands. A few seconds have passed and he can no longer feel and move his whole body. He did not know what’s happening and it was filling his agitation. It was a strange feeling that your brain suddenly became confused because of body numbness. He was paralyzed, lying on the floor.

He was breathing heavily. He tried to speak but nothing’s coming out of his mouth. His tongue suddenly froze inside and only a few moans and groans were coming out of it. Even though he couldn’t feel anything, his consciousness didn’t vanish.

The officer knelt in front of him. All he could see was his face. He lifted Praxis up and placed his stiff body on his right shoulder. He couldn’t do anything. He wanted to fight back but he did not know what’s going on. He was blank for the entire minutes.

They went down to the building and approached a police car. He saw that there were a couple of officers in that place aside from the officer that picked him up. He didn’t know what to think but he was sure he was panicking. He had no idea what was going on. All he could do was to breathe hard.

He couldn’t still feel his body even though he had been thrown inside the car. Someone locked up the car and it drove to somewhere he didn’t know. While driving, one of the officers inside the car looked at him.

“He’s still awake?”

“Is he? Strong shit.”

“You think he can memorize the place?”

“I don’t know. Cover his face!”

It was then that darkness ensued, pervading the perturbation and distress he felt by not feeling a single muscle of his body.