Remember.

There is a madness that never wanes, like the scorching heat of a 3 o’clock sun.

Inside a bus going nowhere, I look outside and all I see are fields that stretch across the horizon. 

I sigh. I look at the notebook given to me. There is only one word written in red ink: Remember.

***

I find the room empty expect for an old table and an even older chair. The dilapidated walls greet me like an old friend. I saw an orgy of cockroaches seemingly oblivious to people.

The landlady turned over the key. “The rent is Three Thousand Pesos per month, and I expect that you pay it on or before the fifth. That’s already inclusive of water, but your electricity will depend on your consumption.”

I sat on the chair and contemplated about how things have gone by, and why am I here.

***

All I recall is running away from the world. 

My feet are tired, but a voice is constantly screaming inside my head: RUN.

I heard gun shots. People are shouting. Some words are inaudible, but the noise is overwhelming, deafening to a point.

I continue to drag my feet into the unknown. I can feel the weight of my body, with all my fears, but I continue running. I think my life depends on it.

Then all I remember is being inside a hospital with bandages all over my head.

***

I slept on the floor using some old newspapers that I found scattered in the room. The headline screamed victory for the government as it has rounded-up the last batch of revolutionary forces in Quezon Province.

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I then dreamed of an old forgotten lighthouse. I was inside writing stories about life, love, sadness, and the revolution. My younger self was bright and dreamy save for the swollen eyes either brought about by incessant crying or not sleeping for days. I could not recall.

I heard heavy footsteps going into my direction. The lady was running towards me, her tattered clothes and unkempt hair would never go unnoticed. “You have to continue writing. That is our greatest weapon,” she said.

She gave me a notebook. “Promise me you will never cease writing,” her voice mumbled as she was catching her breath.

“I promise.”

***

At the piercing hiss of a cat, I suddenly gasped for air. I woke up.

Now, I remember.