Freaky Tuesday Night
I don’t about you guys, but for me, Tuesdays are unbearably dull. Work’s just started the day before, and it’s still a far cry before the weekend ushers in the fun that we all crave for. I actually prefer Wednesday, the middle day, when hope creeps back into my subconscious, realizing that the dreaded work week is bound to cease. But Tuesdays? I only have three words for it: Never. Nada. Zilch.
Like most weekdays, I got home last Tuesday feeling exhausted from my daunting office tasks (right!). I snatched some time to snooze and reminded myself to call my self-proclaimed techie officemate, the Queen of Pain and Tardiness (QPT), by seven in the evening. QPT has recently decided to devote more time for the MS Computer Science degree that she’s currently pursuing in UP. Thus, she vacated her posh Ortigas condo and moved into the bone thug-infested neighborhood of UP Bliss.
As I mentioned in a previous blog entry, UP Bliss is a run down neighborhood of dilapidated, multi-level housing structures. Although I stay in Bulding 2 and QPT found her niche in Building 19, we’re practically neighbors now, and it suits us perfectly since we’re both horrible time managers who nap in the late afternoon and hit the covers again only after midnight.
QPT and I agreed to have supper together that same evening. However, my original plan of calling her at seven never pushed through due to an unforeseen glitch with my cellphone (which handily doubles as my alarm clock, by the way). I woke up past 8:30PM, and I hurriedly washed my face, wore street clothes, and went down the flight of stairs to meet QPT in her pad and confront her potential rage and hunger pangs.
Stepping down on the last step of the stairs, I barely saw a man who stepped tentatively in my direction. It was quite dark in our building, there were no overhead lights to speak of, but I was sure that the man wore his dark shirt as a mask. As I turned to leave, the mysterious person began to speak in a chilly voice that is somewhat also laced with rage. He said: “Saan nagpunta ang dalawa? Saan sila umakyat? Saan sila nagpunta? Sa third floor? Sa fourth floor?”
At this point, I inspected my surroundings. All the ground floor units were locked and cave dark. Realizing that nobody was around, I glanced back with the intention of asking if his queries were intended for me. Before I could even speak, I was rattled by the way he stood his ground, and with clenched fists firmly planted on his sides and a faraway look, he proceeded to murmur: “Uulit ka pa ba? Taas… Baba… Taas… Baba…”
Goosebumps erupted on every pore of my body. It was definitely one of the freakiest moments of my life. I turned away so fast that a walkathon could have been in order. Through my peripheral vision, I could feel the person follow me in short, calculated steps. Proceeding to a mid-run, I turned around to check if he was still following me. Alas, as if in a snap, he was no longer there, not even a trace of his scrimpy shirt mask.
Later that night, I recounted the strange experience to QPT in her pad as she ravenously chomped on her Chowking Supreme Chicken and pineapple juice. With bits of chewed rice forming arc projectiles from her lips, she made fun of my cowardice and apparent low tolerance of anything deviant or paranormal. “What if you see him again on your way home,” QPT inquired, rubbing sauce off her cheek with a soiled napkin. “I mean, what if he’s a homicidal psycho or a renegade ghost with a mission of vendetta?” “I’ll let loose a high-pitched shriek so loud that it won’t matter to me if I rouse the whole of UP Bliss from its peaceful slumber,” I said matter-of-factly.
Thirty minutes past twelve, I finally got tired of QPT’s i-Tunes, her Keebler raisin-and-oatmeal cookies, and her endless whining about the difficulties of the real world. Since her roommate finally got home, I decided to call it a night and head back to Building 2. When I got there, I realized that the gate has been closed since it was well past midnight. I inserted the key and for some strange reason, the blasted gate wouldn’t budge open. With my heart beating a jillion times per minute and beads of perspiration forming on my brow, I murmured for the mysterious masked entity to leave me alone and let me in. With a chilling breeze of cool wind, the lock suddenly unhooked, and with galloping steps, I proceeded to embark on the maddest dash back to my room.
