Their Days of Nights

08 : Quiet

December 2006

Benjamin

The house is quiet.

Everyone's out doing what they normally do on a normal day. Dad is at work. Mom is with Althea in her school, and Jessy is in hers.

I head straight to the kitchen, open the refrigerator, and grab something to eat. I make myself a sandwich. Then I carry it to the living room.

I slouch on the couch, stretch my legs, and put my feet on the table. I turn the TV on and start searching through the channels. I stop at Animal Planet. It's a boring segment about big river fishes, but I think that'll do. I just need to kill the deafening silence around me.

It's like this for almost two months now. My parents aren't exactly happy with it, but when I tried to bring myself back out there, I froze.

When I went to campus after the short break, it felt like the world was crumbling down, and I couldn't breathe. All I wanted then was to break something into minuscule pieces—anything to satisfy the time-bomb of rage inside me. I went home instead and withdrew my enrollment. I wasn't ready yet. I was still angry.

I am angry. The universe played its trickiest move on us, took someone, and punished those who lost him.

I haven't directly talked to either Chris or Carleen since September. I avoided Chris as much as I could during the last days of the semester. I'm not proud of being a jerk to him, but I've been nursing a dark cloud over my head at that time. Carleen had it worse. Those frat jerks had the nerve to file a restraining order against her for 'harassing' them on campus and calling them 'murderers.'

I have no idea how I even passed all my classes when I was barely alive during those weeks before finals.

I'm done with my sandwich. There's still an hour left before mom and Althea come back from her school. In a few hours, the house will come alive again. And I wonder when I'll feel the same.

I return the plate to the kitchen, go back, and turn the TV off. Then I climb the stairs and enter my room. I close the door, slide the chair away from the desk, sit on it, turn to the side, and play something on the stereo.

I'm not even a fan of Nine Inch Nails, but I guess anything works these days.

I open the beat-up thick Leithold book on my desk for no reason. And I start reading through a chapter while I half-listen to what's playing.

***

It's Christmas morning, and the house is quiet.

Traditionally, I should be with my family on our way to—or already in—the province. I should be in that small town where I grew up to be with my mom's side of the family. But I'm in this townhouse at the end of a square compound, somewhere in the southern part of the Metro.

It's not that I didn't want to go. My parents made me stay. Jessy is sick since yesterday, and she needs someone to look after her here. Our parents thought it's clever to leave the two of us behind, hoping we can find a way to be like how we used to. They'd be back tomorrow afternoon, anyway.

It's almost noon. I read the note my mom left on the refrigerator. There's a reminder to eat the food she left, Jessy's medicine schedule, cautionary measures, and to make sure I turn off the gas after use. Yada, yada, yada.

I take out a food container, re-heat the rice, and do the same to the soup. As per instructions, I also prepare the medicines my sister needs to take. I arrange them all on the dining table.

Then I go upstairs, stand outside her bedroom door, take a deep breath first, and knock. There's no sound of movement from inside. No anything.

I knock again.