A loud ear breaking scream woke me up from my peaceful sleep. It was already 2 am in the morning. I haven't slept enough since I did all my homework all night.
I rushed out of the room to find the owner of that voice. I went to my Grandma's room to assure she's alright but she's not in her bed. I went down to check all the bedrooms and it's all vacant. I opened the last door in the hall and there I found who I'm looking for.
It's not the first time I've witnessed this.
I was stunned. An old woman was crying while her arms were wrapped on a man's body. The elderly was trying her best to calm the man down with all she can but it seems like nothing can help her.
I took a step forward and it got the man's attention. My breathing hitched. Using his remaining strength, he immediately moved his body to inch the space between us which ended up his body on the floor.
Loud cries of an old woman enveloped the entire room also with a loud, disturbing, and pleading scream of a man.
I stepped back when he's trying to reach my left foot with his weak, unstable and shaking hands. When he got a chance to reach for my other foot, he looked up and had our eyes met. His swollen eyes tell a lot of stories, present sorrow, fear, and frustration.
A tear escaped from his eye. With a trembled lips and shaking jaw, he whispered,
"S-save me..."
"Damn it, Lawrence! Give me back my book!" From the hallway, I can hear my friends' quarrel. I immediately sat on my chair as soon as I entered the room. I let my head fall on the desk and closed my eyes to rest.
"Hey, Theo! Too early for bedtime!" I heard Lawrence say.
"I need to gain the rest of the hours I've lost." I responded.
"Why? Your uncle had a panic attack again?" James asked. I nodded with my eyes still closed.
"Admit him to the nearest mental hospital in our town. No hope for him." I instantly lifted my head and gave him a blow in his arm. He reacted but got no chance to fight back because our teacher just arrived.
My uncle was lost for almost a year. We had no contacts or any news about him. My grandmother and I thought that he was working in Manila as a teacher. But when we contacted the school he's supposed to be working at, they said, there's no teacher with the surname 'Santos' working in their school. We were worried. Until the other day, he came home shaking in fear, looking frustrated. We don't even know what happened to him because he's not talking or even answering our questions. Every midnight, he's screaming like a wild animal being tortured. He had panic attacks and we couldn't do anything to calm him down.
My somnolent classmates kept yawning for almost one hour. I also can't keep my eyes open for a minute because our first subject is history. Indeed boring. Plus, the way our teacher speaks was so soporific. If it's not because of him being irascible, we will not be forced to stay awake.
I saw my friend, James, reading a different book instead of our history book. Maybe it's the same book they're fighting about earlier. He's just my seatmate so I'm free to view whatever he's reading.
"Creepiest telephone hotlines you should not dial..." He read the title of the page. Lawrence on the other side also viewed the book, looking intrigued.
"999-9999, 0888-888-888, 666..." Lawrence said, reading the following telephone numbers.
"What would happen if we dialed the numbers?" I asked.
