Where You At?

Friday Night. While half of the city poured their overflowing energies in activities of their choice like soaring to the beats that come and go, chomping on munchies from one place to another, or playing games that makes their adrenaline run, I am sitting on my desk glued to a 2-inch thick textbook reviewing for unending barely passable exams. I promised myself that I’ll pamper myself with a movie and popcorn after I finish another two chapters.

Why are novels so easy to read? I can read one in one sitting and retell it with emotions. And yet, this life-saving chunk of hard-bound takes me forever and hardly sticks to my head. The tick of my pen resounded in the space, disturbing the delicate melody of the “Theme of Mitsuha” in the background.

The world moved on turning without care, letting everyone do what must be done and what not. The familiar artificial luminosities stood provokingly beyond the double pane windows. Its cries of invitation muted by that same glass. 

One hour before midnight. I popped a packet of my favorite buttered popcorn in the microwave. Three minutes.

Looking out the window, the city is as lively as ever. Though, the rush hour has gone, people still flocked in and out of establishments. The street lamp lit roads glowed forming its own kind of orange river which was occasionally disturbed by the passing ant-sized vehicles. Billboards snapped from one advertisement to another. Signs flickered in the distance. The horizon from my unit was filled with spotty lights of different colors and brightness. It looked like its own galaxy.

The buttered popcorn was popping from the black box and its aroma filled my lungs. The iced tea untouched on the table and the television radiated shades anticipatory for the film ready to be played.

The lights went out. What the?! I’ve waited for this movie time the whole night. I wanted to cry, but then I remembered that I can use my laptop and the popcorn is ready. I took out the cute Shiba Inu-shaped emergency light and went to retrieve my laptop.

The blackout seemed city-wide. Our power went off first, then like dominos falling in sequence, the other areas in the city went in pursuit, east to west. The entire city was enveloped in darkness. There’s serenity in that moment. The moment where people are quiet whether in shock or enjoyment, before people copes up and turns their battery-powered lights on. Gone were the flashing lights from the establishments, the glowing billboards from the distance, and the crazy river of streetlamps. The moment of silence after the quick screams. 

The rumbling came then. From everywhere, out there. Eerie cringing noise filled my room. The floor pushed in a wild up, down, side to side, that I can barely hold my footing. The muffled screams of other unit owners sipped through the walls. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t even cry. Let alone, shriek. Not a sound escaped from me. My mind zeroed-in to three words over and over. Duck. Cover. Hold. Duck. Cover. Hold. I found myself under my study, my glasses glinting against the light from the Shiba Inu. I dropped the laptop to my side. Hopefully, it wasn’t damaged because of my carelessness. It was intense, but it stopped as soon as it started.

Panting from the nerve-wracking experience, I stayed in that tiny cubicle under the table. Waiting. Observing. Beads of cold sweat formed on my forehead. My jaws were tight from clenching my teeth for too long. My fingertips shaking where they stood. I heard the vase fall and shatter earlier. It should be in the far left corner. People in the corridor were shouting something, I couldn’t understand.

Okay… What now? Duck. Cover. Hold. Done. Okay, I’m done with that. Aftershocks? I hope not. I need to get out of here, just in case. The elevator isn’t working and shouldn’t be an option. Main stairs on the left. The emergency exit on the right. I went for the door with the Shiba Inu clutched on my left hand and the laptop tucked in my armpit. I grabbed my phone and wallet along the way. The popcorn’s fragrance lingered still.

But, before I even get to the front door, the floor jumped and danced unpredictably. Duck. Cover. Hold. I jumped to the side of the refrigerator, my hands still on my head.

Who knows how long its been going on. I can barely hear anything over the beating of my heart. The next thing I know, everything was breaking. The television tumbled down. Pots and pans jumping off their racks. Smashed plates and cups. Books and chunks of my papers banged to the ground. The windows. Oh my God, the windows. High pitched shattering ensued, followed by the sudden gush of wind. Chilly. Powerful.

I was numb. Scared. My muscles were tensed. I looked where the beam from the Shiba Inu set on the empty wall near the front door as the vibrations persisted. Cracks appeared on what used to be a flawless wall. Lines that grew wider. Lines that crept longer and longer. Crack. Crack. CRUSH. 

Resonance of a thousand cracks.

Everything gave out and I fell with everything else into uncertainty. Duck, Cover, and Hold was no longer helpful. I kept my stance, seated like a ball, though, I was tumbling in every direction. It wasn’t that I thought or meant it to be in that position, it was just so. Would anyone get to think of anything during those seconds? Those long and yet instantaneous seconds.

My head throbbed. I didn’t know how long I was out. Dusty. Sand in my mouth. It’s pitch black. Not a single light can be seen. I can hear nothing but the dizzying ringing, echoing and echoing. My sore body glued to rocks of different sizes and shapes. Was that propane gas? I couldn’t say anything. Is this real? I dozed out again.

The laptop was gone. The Shiba Inu was no where to be. My slippers flew off to who knows where. I checked if my body was still intact from toe to head and pinched my cheeks to wake myself up. Okay, complete toes, complete fingers. It seemed like I didn’t break anything either. Apart from having a small cut on my left thigh and temple, which already dried up, it looked like I’m okay. Physically, that is. As I touched my face, I realized that the numbers on my wristwatch was subtly glowing a soft green. Quarter to six. It was beautiful.

For some unprecedented luck, somehow, my refrigerator kept its purpose and saved my life. It held my triangle of life. Slanting a little, with its top deformed by a large piece of cement wall. A chunk of what used to be a support beam, here and there. How deep am I incaved in? Will someone come for me?

“Help! Is someone there?! Help!” That’s all I could muster to say.

People were shouting incomprehensible sounds, probably pleas, from directions I can’t surmise. Different intensities, same wishes. I bet, we all feel the same. Fear. Anger. Denial. Uncertainty. A little bit of hope. Desperation. All those things lingered, deeper and deeper into my soul. The darkness suffocated the tiny room. Even if I tried to stop myself from feeling, it was no use. As time dragged on, it became quieter. Will someone come for us?

By seven in the morning, I can hear water dripping from the top left corner. Cupping it with my hand as much as I can, I drunk that unfiltered dirty water. Why did the fridge have to face the other way? I hugged my knees. Please, Father, send help.

11 am. My phone was on my back pocket. It won’t turn on. Aaaah! I yelled in frustration. It so warm in that tiny space, and the air stale. Though I’m pretty sure, I feel a breeze from time to time. It hurts. I reached for water.

12 noon. It’s been quiet for hours. By another some miracle, I found my good old favorite popcorn still mostly sealed and ready to be eaten. “Thank you.” I whispered and it dawned on me then that this had to be rationed. Somebody… Please… I couldn’t do anything else but cry.

4 pm. Waking up for the Nth time today. Wait. Is that? I thought, I heard some drilling. Is it real? I took my dead phone and hit it over and over to the metal refrigerator. Resounding metal clunking filled my hollow abode, loud and rhythmical. Was it a dream or am I hearing things? Will anyone be here? The stone was cold against my forehead.

I’m in a dire spot. But, it wasn’t the end. It shouldn’t be the end. It won’t be the end.