In the late afternoon, I was sitting on the firm surface of my bed. I can’t go back to sleep; in louver, i waited until the last light of the sun peeked through the slats. At that time I was in such anguish that it made my eyes starry. In a flash, my thoughts wanted to see the far away place where the moments of loved ones dwell. Even if it was an intermission, I received everything in alliance with my deep longing for the happy occurrence. My heart was in clamor to see all of them; my eyes sparkled with pleasures for all the fine senses of deep affection. While time held its breath, it gave way to reunite me with the past.

It took me back to the time when I was sitting with other little kids, maybe 6 or 7 years old, and where a teacher believed that she was holding a stone whisperer that would always know of any mischievous events hidden within her classroom. . Magic, then introduced into the innocent mind. There was even a garden in which a dwarf statue would change position from time to time. It was a flourishing superstitious belief that resided in all children.

Then there was a strong feeling of nostalgia that pushed back those times when I played away from home; He was playing games of glass marbles placing them in little holes by simply pressing them between his index finger and thumb as he moved them forward. I was an expert kid at hitting my opponent’s marble even from 4 or 5 feet away. As time moved freely, I was taken to the scene where I was playing the kicking game called “sipa” in the Filipino language, made of a washer with colored threads or plastic straws attached to it. He was wearing a good pair of rubber shoes pulling the top up and catching it so it didn’t hit the ground; I had to count the required number of times to throw the sipa and then hit it as far as possible, away from the opponent so they would chase it down and catch it with their foot. In the whirling motion of the surroundings, I found myself holding a span of playing cards of teks running away from other players who will ask for a share of some of my playing cards of teks. In another scene, I was trying to rescue a captured teammate from another base and also trying to secure our base from an intruder in what is called “grab and grab a corner” or “agawan base” game in dialect. Philippine. I have won and lost many games but with all these; I found new friends until the play mats were folded up and tucked away in a corner as childhood moments slipped away as I rushed uncomfortably towards more mature roles.

My eyes flickered and I was suddenly brought back to my high school days, where I was out in the hot sun practicing the military march cadence; in those who test resistance; I was able to gain discipline and stamina; all the nearby barbershops were too busy to serve those cadets in need of a haircut. He was a frequent visitor to the library where research was done as there was no internet during those periods. I spent many times reading and writing researched information and staying up late at night reviewing notes. The timing was so generous that it showed events where I would cling to the back of the jeepney to get me to school and sometimes walk briskly from home to school when the traffic was worst at those times. The moment was splendid when he showed me taking my lunch to school and eating on the river bank with trees in the background. I didn’t go very far in finding a university; in the same location as the high school where I attended my college. There was no escaping a tumultuous life in college life, which even in a more mature life, I was not spared from bullying where an English teacher made me stand in class along with a classmate and asked someone to help us. will compare It brought humiliation where I found it hard to forget. Sometime during the last school year, I got sick and decided to stop, to make way for a minor stomach operation. That was the reason I graduated within 5 years and didn’t join the graduation rites.

As time passed, I was at a night shift job at the bank, reconciling data, and went home the next morning. Then I found myself doing office work most of the time, data control and data coding, until I found a permanent government job which I served sincerely and then got married and settled. The most cherished part was seeing my wife and son travel along with other family members. I treasured the moments playing with my little son, found out funny ways to talk to him even in long-distance communication. It was lovely to see moments sharing a pleasant life with my wife who can change my life with her loving and caring nature. Time was expanded showing more details of my devoted mother’s tireless and loving care. Time traveled extending to the most critical decision of my life: working in a foreign country that encompassed different customs and cultures. Strict compliance with the law had strengthened and honed my personality. Every day he resided in the virtual world, where communication had settled on the Internet. Life outside the country of origin was like rituals: going to work, calling family, sending money and going back to work for a living. The disease that I tried to avoid is why I strived in a healthy life.

Over time, back inside the room, small and large details that in a patchwork quilt would tell someone that I have memorable memories. The years that I spent living in the foreign land were as if I was taken from my safe abode, for this reason great changes happened in my body: gray hair prevailed, memory failed, inexplicable body pain, stress, nostalgia and loneliness engendered my body to deteriorate. .

As the surroundings dozed peacefully into the night, the entertainment ceased as the crowd moved where only a few earned the coveted spot in life. I no longer own time: the time to communicate with my loved ones, no longer to play a role with the community, to wake up at dawn, I no longer have to rush to work and push the crowd for a business appointment, anymore not worry about the threat of a suicide bombing in a crowded place. The sad thing was that I couldn’t touch or feel anything around me, and I felt like a spirit got stuck in the earth dimension and between the world of jinn. Many thoughts flooded my mind. How can this be happening? I still have a lot to do, am I now an earthly ghost? Now, I feared being confined with my loved ones more than anything; I don’t know how to accept that he was dead. I’m still forced to raise my little son, grow old with my wife and make sure they’re okay. Who will help me accept the last episode of my life? For the last time, I tried to hold my mobile phone to call my family, but my hand passed over the tangible. I saw the light pulling me; He needed to decide whether to move into the light or remain trapped in the earth dimension. I decided to remain an earth spirit in search of someone who was sensitive to spirits and could help me understand about death.

I kept calm, cried sometimes, moved and learned what a ghost could do. Then the rain poured down; someone knocked on the door, it was a child seeking refuge, he tried everything to get into my house until he found a way to enter. Suddenly I ran into him and he probably saw me walk past him. “Do you live here?” the boy asked.