Shadows of the Past: Another Chance
By Jenica N. Ombao
You will never know what will happen next. You cannot predict even the most uncontrollable thing that could possibly happen in your life especially when you believe that the spreading bright yellow and orange colors of the rising sun in the horizon will give you a wonderful, tranquil and fruitful day yet all of these will turn again into a black and white inevitable memory. And you cannot speak any word nor phrase but only the sentences which remind of you of the bitter and breath-taking memories of the past. “It’s happening again. The same thing is happening again.”
Time flies swiftly as the speed of a fired bullet and as uncatchable as the falling star in a moonlit night. How old am I? How many years had passed after that traumatic event? Seven years… Seven years had just passed for recovery. Seven years of a new life for yet I don’t think I became a part of it.
It’s seven o’clock in the morning. The day seemed bright and harmless until I heard the beeping sound of my cellphone. I woke up with a bright smile hoping that the message coming from my cellphone was just a simple greeting of good morning. But it was not just as simple as what I’ve expected. I was wrong. The message came from my sister telling, “Mom’s sick. She’s in the hospital. We need you ate. Please go home. Quick!” My big smile was devoured by a sudden monstrous nervousness in my heart. My lips turned pale thinking of what to do next. Adrenaline rushed into my veins for the second time.
I hurriedly went home. With thorns of skittishness in my heart, I could see my sisters and brothers silently pray for my mom’s recovery. I could see the same scenario seven years ago. I could imagine the same fear and hope that we felt last time. History repeats itself. History repeats itself for what?
My mind flew just like a flying ambulance that we were riding in with my mother, father and my aunt so that we could transfer her for.