Sunday, August 30, 2009

Citizen Journalist

He heard her scream.

Not just once. Twice he heard her.

The first call to alert anyone nearby (as they were advised to do), followed a few seconds later by the unrehearsed, desperate scream for help.

He would remember his hurried steps, which had not once slowed down, but quickened instead. He was scurrying, scurrying for cover, he thought. The notion was ridiculous, but one he could not get away from even after he was out of earshot of the incident. Of whatever nature it was.

Turning the key in the lock, his breathing only grew faster. Silly again, he thought to himself, as if it was he under threat. A random girl! Who knew her? She probably deserved it!

In labored breathing and fast pulse, he ignored the bitterness in his mind, as he threw his coat to the rack and entered the living room.

The children were sitting in front of the television, the white noise and the white lights making hallucinations in their rapt minds and casting shadows in the furniture behind them. He sat down on the couch to join his family.

His pulse slowed down again. His breaths became normal. This is good. I'm okay now. Just needed this.

1 comment:

Sujata Ravi said...

Welcome back , you. =)