Shaky Fingers and Failing Knees

Eight days--oh, sweet, merciful potato!--it has been eight days since this strike of headaches began.

No one can tell me to sleep, since, basically, that's all I've been doing. But no one can tell me to get up either, since my sleep is all disturbed by the heavy headaches. It has been the normal day-to-day pattern of life for me: I cry myself to sleep, and wake myself that very same way.

I have been away from school for three days, and I came today--Friday. But by 7am, when everyone was having the SYM activity--all noisy and going around--I just had to confine myself in the school clinic, before I start a fit of screaming and kicking. Thankfully, I didn't get to that point of insanity. But I couldn't say that I had a long peaceful two-hour nap. Far from it, in fact. It was filled with waking up and calming down.

For a fact, I truly dislike being sent to the clinic. It was just that it was the best choice, since everyone else is having a celebration outside. It's too noisy. But, honestly, inside the clinic, the nurses were laughing and chatting, and the air conditioning was creating the upcoming ice age. Oh and, the radio was on, and was playing music. And it wasn't classical--I can tell you that. It was playing the spoof Tagalog versions of various hip hop and RNB songs, like Clumsy, Smack That, Low, Umbrella and a number of other songs performed in Filipino (and Cebuano) just for laughs.

How do you expect anyone to calm down from a headache in such a hostile environment?!

In the middle of my [attempt at] slumber, Kyle and Emman came in to take some medicine. As they were getting some water, I pulled back the curtains, and asked them what class we were having. And they were both surprised to see me there.

They sat on the bed next to mine, and they talked to me for a while. They were even making jokes, and it was nice to have people around to cheer you up when the headache starts to eat you.

Ah, but Emman saw me shedding a few tears, and he reacted to that. My headaches were getting a little wilder, so I had to choke back a couple few drops. Instead, I just smiled at their attempts to spread some positive energy in the place. But the nurses forced them out, so I had to return to my [failed attempts at] slumber.

Then I went out of the clinic to join my batchmates for some snacks. Tala had a wheat bagel with cheese in it, thought I'm not sure if she put some Turkey there too. I popped in a few squares of milk flavored Loacker wafers, and drank some of my coconut juic, when I admired the quality of her new PRADA messenger bag. It was black, and simple, and it had a clean, modern cut and great fabric. And then she started chattering on about it, and then she said something about playing with the zipper, and gave off a big "wheeee" of excitement, as she pulled the zipper back and forth.
Basically, she was annoying me. I had already told her not to speak to me of anything that wasn't much of great importance. And she knows that unnecessary noise makes my head spin. In fact, it was already noisy at school during the break, and she had to make it worse.
So I gave her a smile, asked her to stop, and massaged my head while I was at it.
What could I say? Her voice was loud, and mine was at the volume of non-existence at the moment. How could I speak in such terrible conditions?

Well, point of fact, Alex told me the night before that I seemed to be whispering to the phone. I talked to her the other night, and told her I was going to die before my birthday, and that she needn't worry, since I'm moving anyway, and I'm transferring schools. And she complained, since next year will be my senior year in high school. She said that if I transfer schools, and die, and move to a different city, she'd kick me. The order of it would have been that I died, then I moved cities and then I transfered schools, and THEN she would kick me--which would be an odd sequence, I admit.

So to ensure that she gets to kick me while I'm still breathing, she did it today. I told her, how are you going to kick me if I'm going to die this Monday? And since we don't have any classes this Monday, she gave a slight tap with her toe to my ankle. And then I said, "I'll transfer to a different school", and she kicked me in the same manner.

When the break ended, though, they all packed some supplies for the Truth Festival (prayer-rally-vigil that is happening over at Roxas Boulevard). And after that, they all lined up to get to class. They were all noisy, and the president was standing in front, almost pleading for the lines to be straightened. I couldn't really help myself, so I got out of my line, faced the crowd of noisy students, raised my right arm forward to the three deformed lines, and tried as hard as I could to say, "hoy, pila!" (translation: Hey, line up!) And I felt the stare of my classmates when they saw me cry at the exact moment I shouted those two words.

I instantly felt for my head and said, "gusto ko nang umuwi!" (I want to go home.) as my fingers were covered in hair.

They brought me to the clinic. And the next thing I could remember was that Jenine was back there, telling me that it was time to go home.