By: Liwie Jayne Mendoza
Publication: Rhian Tabuada

Coming home from school is still as tiring as it sounds. You go there at rush hour so you hear the distant, loud horns of vehicles that constantly race each other to go to their respective destinations, drag yourself out of the crowd just to get to a jeepney, you know the drill — and it’s still the same situation going home, because it’s also rush hour the moment you’re dismissed.

BEEEEP!!!

Walking down the street to my home, I was greeted by the sound of a hurrying motorcycle behind me. Children playing divided themselves into groups that went to either the left or right side of the street to make way for the incoming vehicle.

The children…they looked so…happy. So carefree. I wish I could be like them.

I know I heard a video once, saying, “little children are told to go to bed, but don’t sleep– probably because they’re not bored of life yet“, and I’m a testimony of that.

When I was still little, around the age of 3-6 years old, it was part of my daily schedule to go take a nap once the clock strikes two in the afternoon. But in reality, I just go upstairs, read my books, and come down at just the right time, acting like I had just woken up. And now, I’d do anything to get that daily dose of sleep instead of school work and busy schedules.

These little children playing, they talked about drawings, how vivid they saw life as, and how they have all day to do the things they want. I used to be one of those children that loved life. I rushed to be a teenager. It’s not that I don’t like my life right now, it’s just.. exasperating, at most.

I wish I never rushed to be at this age. I thought life would be all easy and a piece of cake when I reached this stage — turns out to be the opposite.

I was so beautiful then. I was flawless, not a single mark of stress on my face. Scars were only physical and I didn’t care about what the world would say about me. I knew myself, and I was confident in myself. But now.. what now..? Worries and concern spelled all over my whole personality, scars exceeding physical and tormenting me even inside, to my mind, to my heart, and soul. I’m everyone’s mirror, copying their demeanors and behaviors. When I try to glance at my reflection, there’s nothing to see. What have I become?

I reach my home, the laughs of the little children echoing inside my head, the picture of their smiles imprinted on my mind. The moment came to pass, but I didn’t know it would be so sudden.

“They’ll grow up as well. They’ll have different experiences. They’ll get to know that life is fun…

…with a mix of pain.”

Life is still fun. I find my fun in my family, my friends, playing games from time to time, and relieving memories of my childhood. I feel old, but I’m not at all too far from them, right? I have my inner child, and she’s still playing within me. Telling me to rest, telling me to get to know myself first.

I’m still a child too. I’m older than the others, and I have the body of an adult, but I’m still a child. I still enjoy life, despite its challenges. I still see the light from afar, in this dark tunnel. I’ll get out of these struggles. I’ll persevere – I’ll survive.