Watch Your Step

Eyes Half Open

Recently, I find myself asking from time to time, 'Is this real?' Doing the same routine every day, I feel like I was programmed to be here inside this yellow jeepney. And all these passengers are merely following the same system as I am. But lately, I can't seem to remember how I got here. Crazy, right?

The driver didn't say anything. He was a lean, genial man of about fifty. He must be new because I've never seen him before.

I'm wearing the same school uniform I've been wearing since my first year. The usual beeps and honks were the same humdrum symphony I hear every day I go to school. The exhaust of the engine on my face hasn't changed, and the same road I've been passing by since time immemorial is immutable.

But then those same honks of a horn would turn into a loud crash, and this same uniform would turn into something bloody. Something, something would make the jeepney stop abruptly. As if a signal, but I don't know where it's coming from. Similarly to my alarm in the morning, I'm so used to anticipating the sound that I can already hear it before it even rings.

EEERRRWWWW

Have you ever heard an airplane up close?

The driver still didn't answer.

The exhaust turns almost cold. And suddenly, I'm sitting at the back of the driver. I knew I was beside him but as time passes by, I'm getting more doubtful. It's okay, I like being alone in the back of the driver anyway. It's like my personal convoy.

I developed this skill to skip class — at least mentally. My mind would wander off somewhere and before I knew it, the bell was already ringing. But now that the scenery has changed. When everything changes, it's unnerving.

I remember this jeepney was yellow. Yet, when I poked my head outside the window, I saw it's red! I only have one theory: Reality is breaking.

I saw the driver smirked on the rear-view mirror.

I can't prove it but I've been exchanging these changes of scenery more often now. It's like the opposite of deja vu, but instead of feeling like it already happened. It's repeating something that I know never happened. Or at least my brain doesn't know it happened. I've experienced deja vu before but not to this degree.

Replay. Replay. Replay. Replaying a reality I haven't lived. Or it's more like I'm living different lives at the same time. But something scares me. Those sudden changes of scenery. There's one that's not so pleasant.

When I try to close my eyes, my view would glitch into a very dark place. Where...where mangled people, gray-skinned, screaming in agony, are reaching for this jeepney.

And the smell. I remember passing by the market where they carter rotting meats of pigs, cows and fishes. It was revolting. A smell that no matter how you pinch your nose or hold your breath, it's there.

I would only be saved by the brightness of the sun as another one of those daydreams begin. Starting the cycle would be me being snapped out. In the jeepney again. But the nightmarish scenes switch more frequently now. When I close my eyes and open them

It's dark

like it's raining but not raining

Though it's not like that

it's instant

Instant

Instant

I don't even have to blink for the scenery to change. I just have to keep my eyes half open.

Someone handed me a fare — a standard fare — and I handed it to the driver whose palm was as rough and sticky as the rubber of the wheel itself. I wonder if I'm getting lost. Or I already passed my destination. For all I know, this jeepney could be moving backwards.

I know the scenery changed because I was sure I was alone with the driver but now the number of passengers has increased. I don't know any one of them. Someone was coughing beside me. It's suffocating. I hoped I'd see a familiar face like someone from my class. That would certainly help. But they only kept handing me fares.

For compensation, I'm treating this handing of coins as penance because I'm a sinful person. As I passed those fares, I thought, What if I can control it? What if I'm the one who can change where I'm sitting. I think of a possibility where I'm sitting at the end of the jeepney. I concentrate really hard and I shut my eyes really tight because if I don't I might tap into that nightmarish realm again.

I did it! I was at the end of the jeepney. No more handing fares, no more coughing passengers. I look outside the door and see the moving road behind. How long was I in this jeepney? I pondered, Maybe when reality is breaking so as your perception of time.

Wait. Why is it that it's the same driver since the beginning of the trip? Now I want to go back near the driver, so he could hear me. So he could hear me asking, "Are we there yet?" I've always had a soft voice and I'm too shy to speak aloud. So I wished to teleport again. I just have to think about it. And there I was at the back of the driver again. Back to handing fares to the rubber-like hand of the driver and repenting. Come to think of it, it's closely similar to confessing to a priest. This is not the right time to confess but maybe I can get off this jeepney if I atone for my sins, "Forgive m—

The scene changed again. I'm in the front seat beside the driver. I looked back and there's no passengers again," Where are the passengers?" I asked," Did they already get off?"

The driver kept his silent treatment.

How come this jeepney seemed never ending. "Can I get off now? Maybe just right here, somewhere, nowhere, can I get off now?

Do you ever get bored?

The mundanity of travelling everyday?

The driver almost spoke but he didn't.

What if all this time I'm only dreaming, tapping to another realm of...

"You're not dreaming," The driver finally spoke in a slow, ominous manner. "This is the river Styx." My mouth fell agape. "Your mind still couldn't process this due to the shock of your own death. It only replays the last thing that it can connect it to.

I smiled," Is that the truth?

"I will tell you again if you ask."

"I guess, I don't know what to believe anymore."

"You don't have to believe.

"You just have to trust."

The spontaneous change of scenery flashed. I saw myself walking on the pedestrian and this jeepney hitting me. I saw my brain explode into smithereens. Then I slowly blinked and told the driver, "I trust you to take me where I should be."

"We'll get there," he said and the bright sunshine showered on me again,

at least, for the meantime.