Scrapbook

Language: English

We all experienced unexpected things in our course of life. Be it from strangers to friends, decisions that led you to a wonderful and exciting journey, or even meeting that special person in your life.

It happened on a lazy morning on the 21st of November; I was there on my bed sitting and staring at nowhere in particular as I let out a sigh of boredom. I’m not much of a gallivant child, outdoors never amused me for some reason, and I prefer to hide in the four corners of my bedroom and read or watch movies. But right now, even those things couldn’t satiate my boredom.

I tried reading a few chapters of a book, but eventually, I put it down for my mind could not picture out the words pierced on the paper; I tried to open my Netflix account and search for movies – anything – but even those with unique plotlines seem to be uninteresting.

“Ugh! Why am I so bored?” I asked nobody in particular as I slump on my bed staring at the ceiling filled with luminescent stars surrounding the crescent moon. “I don’t know, you tell me,”

My head lolled back to the side and my eyes caught a small book wrapped in a cute wallpaper design. When was the last time I updated that book? I got up and pulled my scrapbook out of its shelf. The edges were already turning beige or a yellowish shade of white due to their age. I had this when I was eight or nine years old – before mom and dad decided they should separate – and I smiled, reminiscing and trying to think of the things I put inside this silly book.

The back part of the book was still blank, and the last entry I had was way back in 2016, and what year are we in now? I slowly took my time staring at the objects and the little words are written beside them – reminders of where I got them.

I remembered on my 16th birthday, my classmates lined up before me and gave me a Fres candy – I kept the wrappers. My 16th was unforgettable since they organized a mini surprise party for me in our room, and my heart melted at the thought that even though some of them aren’t close to me, they still participated and helped my friends to do it.

I turned another page and laughed when I saw ten one-peso coins taped on the paper. Gosh, I could’ve bought some kwek-kwek with this money that time. I was so silly during high school; I don’t even want to reminisce on that part of my life. I was sitting on one of the seats of the tricycad – a public transportation in our place – when my high school crush sat beside me. I couldn’t move that time for the reason that I was stunned and giddy because we were inches away from each other.

These coins were actually his, I was the first to get off and the driver doesn’t have any spare change for my twenty-peso bill, so he paid ahead and manong gave me his money. Yeah, I know that was so creepy, I’m having goosebumps right now just by remembering my foolish self. But hey, it’s one of the things that made my life more colorful.

I turned another page, and another one, and another one until I stopped on a leaf with small round holes around it. The texture was already rough when I touched it; if I tried to pinch it, it would crumble on my fingers. My forehead creased, trying to remember a certain memory linked to this leaf. I haven’t written anything beside it, only the date – 11-21-2010.

That year was the year where we have to leave my hometown and my dad. Some of the memories during that year were long forgotten, so it’s difficult to remember where I got this leaf. I wonder who gave this to me.

I was about to get up and fetch myself a glass of water when a picture fell from the pages of my scrapbook. I picked it up and saw my younger self and a boy. We were both smiling – more like he was forced to smile because. My eyes glinted with mischief, while his soft eyes stared at the camera with gentleness. He looked so calm and contented beside my hyperactive self. I gasped upon realizing who the guy was. I flicked the photograph to the other side and saw a kid’s handwriting, Alejo Elementary School.

By staring at the picture, I suddenly remembered what the leaf was all about. It was one of the leaves of the big mahogany at our school. I was so engrossed with the puncher he brought in school as it was my first time seeing one; we happened to be playing at that big old tree so when the wind blew and several leaves fell, he caught one and just punched holes on the leaves and gave it to me as his farewell gift. If I remember it correctly, we promised each other to meet at this place and play again if I ever visit the town, but I never had the chance to visit again. Back then, going back felt like swallowing your own vomit for the sake of not getting the floor dirty.

I placed the scrapbook and glanced at the mini calendar on my table. It was already November 21, if we haven’t forgotten, we would see each other today, or maybe last year, or a few years ago. But 11 years have passed already, I’m pretty sure we’re both strangers to each other’s life.

I was a cautious person who hates going out because I’ll be leaving my comfort zone, but I guess it was the boredom in me that pushed me to get on my feet, prepare one week’s worth of clothes and head out of the house. I’m risking five hours of my time, but I’m taking my chances and see if he remembered the promise. It’s a crazy idea, I know, but I’m already comfortably seated on the bus.

A lot of thoughts went on my mind as I watch sceneries change from mountainsides to houses to trees. It will be my first time in 11 years to set foot in that old town, I wonder how much has changed? Is it still as quiet as before? Are the houses still the same? Is the mahogany tree still there?

I arrived there at three in the afternoon, and thank goodness because the road wasn’t bombarded with cars. It was still the same sleeping town from before; the surroundings seemed gray in my perspective, the sky looked dull despite the bright shade of blue, and the town felt eerily quiet even though there are people passing by the from time to time. I passed by the old Christian school I used to attend when I was in kinder, and the hair on my skin literally stood up as I looked at the big old sanctuary being figuratively surrounded with a dark fog – it looked more of a haunted house than being a place for tranquility and peace.

I continued walking and stopped at the town’s plaza. The park was as quiet as a graveyard and it gives you this eerie yet serene feeling. The red and white paints of the gymnasium from afar were already fading with time. I sat on one of the sheds built several years ago and watched the empty court from afar. The town looked as if it’s on standstill; no changes, no improvement, and not even maintained.

I left when I heard a group of teens laughing and racing with their bicycles as they entered the park. The school I used to go to wasn’t far from here, so I had no trouble getting there just by walking. One thing I liked about here was that the security wasn’t as strict as the ones in the city. I can freely come and go whenever I like because there aren’t any guards to stop you from entering.

For a moment I got lost because of the new buildings and pathways, the old wooden building of the sixth graders was already gone and was replaced with a new concrete one – green roofs, and beige colored walls. The stoned pathways leading to the backside of the building were already blocked with a small shed. The school’s floor plan has changed, but the tree was still there; bigger and taller than before.

The wind blew and I smiled upon seeing leaves falling from its branches like snow on a winter day. I held out my hand to catch them – there was this green with a hint of red-colored leaf, and it was the only leaf with that color – but the wind blew it away. I looked like a fool running around, trying to catch that one leaf when I could just get one from the ground. But I want to take that leaf home. If I have to link my memory of being here, I want it to be on that leaf because it’s one of a kind. I mean, we remember things easily if it’s unique and distinguished from the others, right?

I stopped when the leaf landed on top of a guy’s hair. His eyes radiated the same kindness as in the picture while looking at me in surprise, and his lips slightly open from the shock. We stared at each other as we tried to let everything sink in. Finally, he raised his hand and took the leaf from his hair, and walked towards me.

“I think this is yours,” if I could die from his voice I already have. It was so deep that I could drown in them, and won’t even complain a thing about it. He smiled, and my heart seemed to respond to the action. “You’re finally here,”