I've been trying to finish writing this since Monday evening. Words keep on running out, as usual. It's now the third day after I began, and hopefully I will be able to finish it this time.
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Right now, I can’t help but ponder on the words I wrote on the caption of my current profile photo, taken on Easter Sunday. “Selfie muna bago manghula sa Quiapo.” I was just kidding, actually. But…
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There was supposed to be a celebration at our parish church that afternoon. And yet, upon arriving there, the atmosphere felt dreadful and gloomy rather than festive. I also remember sensing worry before I went out of the house and when I stood by the gate to say a short prayer. At first I thought it was just probably the heat. But even the scorching heat was…somewhat different. Deep inside me, there was this weird uneasiness as I moved around the vicinity of the church. Like, “something doesn’t feel right”.
Not long after I arrived and started to work on some stuff for the upcoming program, it happened.
To my puzzlement, the cemented ground of the covered court began trembling. Like what happens when a couple of huge container vans are passing by – but no such thing could go by the roads in that area. The few people who were around started to shout and rushed out of the venue. There were what seemed like rumbling and explosion overhead, on the roofs of the buildings. Only then did I realize what was really going on. I began to leave in haste, but remembered my phones were left on the table so I went back to retrieve them before running again. By then, the whole place was shaking from side to side. Like riding the train as it speeds up more – only worse. I hoped not to stumble and fall as I continued to run for dear life and climbed down the stairs out to the church’s parking space. There, people were gathering as the earthquake went on for the seconds to follow.
I thought of my younger siblings at home. At that point, I lost it. Despite the words of the people around telling each other to not worry and that God is there for us, I still ended up breaking down. Is it too bad, let alone a sin, to be taken over by emotion like that? I wanted to blame myself for not having stayed at home a little longer instead, until my sister has arrived so our siblings could at least have another older adult company before I go. No wonder I was already feeling worried when I was about to leave home. That should have been some serious gut feeling, one that I should have paid more attention to. I could only hold on to my pendant with the images of Sto. Niño and Our Lady of Perpetual Help and then the earthquake ended in no time.
As I continued to wheeze for air and bawl about my siblings, I walked away from the crowd and sat on a deserted ground. A few people approached to check on me, gave me a glass of water, and assured me that everything will be alright. The shaking had already stopped but I remained rattled.
What rattled me all the more is that in my mind, I had “seen” and “heard” all those happening before. Not once. Not twice. But a couple of times, within the past year or two. They started out as random thoughts on the most mundane of days: The intense earthquake. The unaccompanied siblings at home while me being in the church. The breakdown. The fearful decision to brave through the roads to get back home. Whenever these “visions” occur, I could only wish it was merely a product of my hyperactive imagination, in an effort to shake the thoughts off. (Oh, shake. No pun intended for that.) These visions materializing right before my eyes had triggered all those emotions in me. It is not the first time for this to happen. In fact, there had been a handful of these visions and dreams in the previous years that came true but by far this is the worst one to happen. What I only didn’t know then was when it would happen; I never wished it to.
But it did. It seems like I had not prayed well enough to keep those visions from coming to reality.
I hated every moment of it. One sad, bad thing about seeing these visions and dreams is wishing there is something you can actually do to stop things from happening. Or at least, alter them to something less worse.
For the following moments, I made and received calls to and from my sisters. Thankfully, they are all fine. Meanwhile, our grandmother was in another place to attend a gathering with her former colleagues. I could only cry again while I tried to reach the people who she’s with since her phone isn’t working well anymore. At the back of my mind, I went: what a shame. I am the eldest child and I am supposed to be strong enough to play the part. Unfortunately, I don’t think I was anywhere near being strong that moment.
Finally mustering up some strength, I stood up and started walking back home. That’s when I discovered what had happened after the top of the church’s belfry collapsed. A portion of the road right beside the belfry tower was covered with rubble. Both ends of the road was already closed, thus not passable.
I ended up entering the church again by the side entrance. The parish convent’s household help was inside, and I told her I need to go home to my siblings. “Sige, puntahan mo na muna sila,” she replied. The hint of sympathy in her voice was comforting.
As I walked towards the main entrance, however, I started to break down again. I heard her calling out my name but I didn’t, couldn’t respond to her anymore. Like a lunatic, I went on howling in my anguish. It felt like a part of me also crumbled to pieces as the image of the ruins lingered on in my mind.
When I opened the main door, I chanced upon another parish officer warning me not to go there. There was also rubble not far from the door. Again, I said the same reason so he let me go through. Only by then was I able to calm myself, although still tearing up.
There was nobody at home. I was told by the neighbors that my sister made it first there and picked our siblings up. When I proceeded there, I was met by one of our dogs. He was sobbing. For the nth time that afternoon, I cried like a baby while I tried to comfort him. I left some of my stuff inside our house and hoped that all will remain safe after I go outside to watch out for my family members.
I finally received the good news that my grandmother is alright and they are bringing her home. Through another phone call, I learned that my siblings are at the plaza. I told them to go back home so I could take our youngest brother and divert his attention while they wait for our grandmother's arrival.
I decided to bring my brother back to the church despite what had just taken place. It's always been some kind of a sanctuary for us; it will remain one even after the earthquake. It seems to be a good decision because the supposed dinner still pushed through. But I couldn't eat a bite, just take gulps of water. For most of the time, I stared into blank space and avoided interaction for as much as I can except with my brother. I barely talked to anyone unlike what I would usually do. The past hour had been draining. I didn't have much energy left to mingle with people. I kind of envied everyone else around because they managed to be back to their high spirits again. I wished I could string along with them. Sadly, I couldn't.
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There was an air of dreariness in the time that followed. The news updates about the earthquake's aftermath was heartbreaking, to say the least. It felt helpless to hear all of it go on and on throughout the day. Seeing the photos of the cracked walls of the church and other further damages was yet another kind of pain. It took me a whole day to recover from what had happened. Yet, it still is a time of sadness.
There remains one thing to be thankful for: we made it safely through that fateful afternoon. We still have a roof over our heads and a comfortable shelter. Others weren't so fortunate. We could only hope that these survivors could rise up again in time.
At times, I would still remember how it all happened. It would come back to me even in my dreams. How I wished it was only a dream, one that didn't come to reality. We all know it's not. It's only been a few days and this is probably just the beginning.
I've been having this strange "headaches" since the afternoon before the earthquake hit. It's not as painful as the usual headaches I would have before. It was more of a heavy sensation of my forehead, at times matched with also a different kind of dizziness. It so happened that I would feel the heaviness around the time that another earthquake is about to take place or already had taken place nearby or elsewhere. I am partly wishing that this sensation is just something else other than what looks like another kind of premonition.
At this point, we've been trying to live our normal lives again, but not without the changes. We still watch out for probable aftershocks to come, the last one hitting during the wee hours of Wednesday morning. I'm partly sad whenever I look at the photos we had at church during Easter Sunday. They might be the last ones taken there in a while. Looking back to that day, including the time I came up with the caption, they all now seem like another kind of foresight of what was about to take place. I couldn't bear taking photos of what have become of the church now. Among many other heritage churches in Pampanga, it is on lockdown for the meantime. I am praying it won't be long until they will be open to the public once more, to be sanctuary for the needy souls that they have been.
Nothing remains certain. Fear might have never left us now. But deep inside me I still believe everything will be alright.
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This seems to be the first time I am directly posting about the visions I've been having.
For the longest time, I have been hesitant to speak out in public regarding my personal experiences with these. I know very well how some people respond to such information and I prefered to avoid that kind of response, thus keeping mum. I had to hold back my frustrations whenever some people poke fun and come up with fake predictions maybe just for the sake of going viral in the Internet. If they only know the real struggles of someone who actually had to go through with it. Only a few people know about the things I "see", people whom I deeply trust and who I know will understand. Some of them were already involved in the visions/dreams; I took the courage to inform them about it.
Now, I guess the tables have turned. After posting this, I don't know what should be the plan. It may or may not affect the extent of the visions that come to me. I'm not expecting for anything else. I just need to let this all out of my head, as well.
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