LORELEI
It took me hours before I finally got to Pampanga because of the heavy traffic along EDSA. The traffic was so bad, cars barely moved, you'd actually believe "forever" exists no matter how bitter you are. To make it worse, there had been an accident in Cubao, which caused the movement of the car I was riding to be even slower.
We arrived in Pampanga around five in the afternoon. On our way to Angeles City, the traffic along McArthur Highway was also heavy, but not as unbearable as Manila's.
The car stopped in front of a three-storey apartment. The driver helped me take my things out of the trunk and placed them on the ground beside the black gate.
"Thank you," I told him as he set my stuff down.
"You're welcome, Ma'am," he replied with a strained smile. After all, he had been driving for hours; he must have been exhausted.
"Take care on your way back."
He got into the car again and drove away. For sure, by the time he got back to Manila, it would already be night because of the terrible traffic.
A few seconds after I pressed the doorbell, the gate opened and I was greeted by a middle-aged woman with shoulder-length hair and wrinkles on her forehead brought by age. She beamed a sweet smile at me. She's my aunt, Martha Henson, the owner of the apartment where I'll be staying here in Pampanga.
"And how did you even know they messaged me on Facebook?"
"While you were checking your inbox yesterday and earlier today, I happened to pass by behind you and noticed how you just 'seen-zoned' their messages," he explained while pointing his finger at my laptop. "They were concerned about your well-being, and yet you chose to ignore them."
He didn't just peek—he actually read my messages. Where's his respect for my privacy?
A new question emerged: "What are you trying to escape from?"
I wanted to snap back, but his mouth kept going like a machine gun.
"Something must have happened at your old school in Manila. Maybe you got involved in some huge issue or scandal, that's why you decided to transfer here."
I clutched my knees tightly as I listened to him. I don't feel comfortable whenever someone brings up something from my past.
"The mystery now is why would you transfer here in Pampanga? Judging by your high-end laptop and phone, your family is obviously well-off. You could study anywhere in Manila. Why not go to those prestigious universities? So, I'm guessing the incident you got involved in at your old school was so serious you needed to run far away—just to completely forget and start over. If you stay nearby, it might trigger a tragic memory."
I averted my gaze from him. Was this guy some kind of psychic? He sounded as if he really knew something about me—especially about that incident. I didn't know how to react, especially since everything he was saying was true.
"I can only think of three probable scenarios," he continued, showing me three of his fingers. "First, maybe you were a witness to some gruesome crime. Second, maybe someone attempted—"
"ENOUGH!"
I couldn't take his nonchalant remarks anymore. I shouted at him to stop talking. If he really had an idea about the serious incident I was involved in, why couldn't he just shut his mouth and keep it to himself? Did he really have to show off how good he is at deducing people's life histories?
"Did I say something wrong?" he asked, pretending to be clueless about my reaction. He still looked like he wanted to continue enumerating the possible scenarios.
I immediately stood up, tightly grabbed my laptop, and hurried into my room without even saying goodbye to him. But before I could turn the doorknob, I faced Loki once more and glared at him.
"Now I understand why people can't stand living with you in this house. You're even worse than the ghosts haunting this place."
I locked the door to my room and lay down on the soft bed. Closing my eyes, I inhaled and exhaled deeply, over and over again.
I don't ever want to relive what happened back then.