15 Chapter 15: Ball

They both looked at me but Kruktu was the one who turned to me to face me fully.

“I do not think ill of you. I do not resent you like how I do not to the people that helps our tribe and every other tribes in here. The volunteers I talked to you about. Those are the people who protects and cares for people like me. So, I believe that there still some people out there who cares and thinks that we matter. That we belong.”

“I still think that, on the other side of the globe, there are some who are not driven by temporary things, but by a different kind of desire. The desire to make a world a better place to live in. May it be one or a few in every continent, but when we work as one, it will be enough. We will be enough to be the driving force to force out evil.”

I nodded in understanding and was made speechless of how he still believes, how he is still hopeful despite of the bad things that had happened to him and to his tribe, and to his entire family, the forest, and the animals. How he still believes, and I figured his family too, after the thoughtless and unmeaningful claiming of the strangers of lands and mountains, that they treasure. How he earnestly trusts that there are still at least a few people who cares and do not think that the only people are the ones who think and look and live like them.

To think like that is something as meaningful as the land they treasure; they are treasure themselves. The way they look at every rock, tree, and creature with meaning, that all things, living and not, has purpose. The way they do not overlook every part of the earth, but rather living with them and learning through them and with them, the sole meaning of existence.

Tuesday. The afternoon is filled with gloom as the storm decided to stay that made the one-day suspension become three. It is such a busy day. Our whole morning was spent fixing some parts of the house that was greatly affected by the storm. It rained so hard that it made the weather even colder, I shivered all throughout the day.

I was so exhausted when I woke up. I woke up late and can barely open my eyes the time I was conscious and awake. My thighs are sore and my throat, dry. I could feel my back aching and my mind getting dizzy whenever I try to stand up. I concentrated and stayed still for quite some time and was grateful that by the time mama went inside my bedroom to call me for breakfast and inform me about the declaration of suspension of classes, I was already sitting up in my bed, saving all my will power to look well and okay.

When my mama went out to work, that we fought over, I decided to wash our laundry. A bit of help and besides, I am bored, and I do not want to stay in bed even if the cold weather is the best time to cuddle in bed. I had enough of it and frankly was a bit afraid that I will end up falling asleep again.

The truth is, falling asleep are both scary and exciting at the same time. I was both nervous and curious, but the latter always win, and lack of sleep is bad for the body. But all I am saying is that sleeping in my bed is not the same ever again. It gives me this feeling; the dreams give me a different feeling to be exact.

I sat on our old one-seater sofa as I glance a look outside several times, while waiting for the laundry in the washing machine. The unusual sound of the washer is the only sound I hear in the cold rainy, laundry day. I watched as the wind made the drizzles of the rain dance gracefully before turning into a savage fall in a now raged tune of the wind. The rain is like that every minute.

Our small front yard is drenched. The small shrubs growing in there cannot be easily seen, and that you must be at least a foot away to distinguish where it is exactly. The front yard is also misty, and if not for the giggles and cheers I suddenly hear, I would think that I am alone in this neighborhood. I wonder what are those kids thinking, running, and playing around in this kind of weather? Maybe they are that bored or the small puddles from the rain are that alluring to the innocent and imaginative randomness of the children, maybe thinking to make the most out of it; of what seemed to be endless pouring of rain and indefinite suspension of classes.

I jerked back when a flying ball hit the surface of the window I am looking at. I felt the soft and worn-out material of the sofa at my back because of surprise. I heard the light thud of the ball before it falls and a glimpse of it when it bounced up, before deciding to come outside and check what had happened.

I stood up and went for a jacket and an umbrella before going out. When I was at the porch, I saw a red ball lying in the corner, wet. I kneeled a bit to reach for the ball, after setting aside my umbrella after figuring out that I do not it. when I get up, I noticed a girl with a blue cap running in the sidewalk. I stayed and decided to just watch the girl go before getting inside the house, but to my surprise she came running towards our house, to me, while carefully holding her cap in place to not fall because of all the running.

“I am so sorry.” She mumbled almost breathlessly, the first thing she did when she reached our porch. “I am really, really sorry. I did not mean to hit your window.”

So, she is one of those kids?