Origins of the QED Club

Chapter 04: My Sincerest Apologies

My secret admirer was bad, but Loki's much worse. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be put in such a position. I really had the misfortune of meeting him and asking for his help.

I leaned my back against the couch and looked blankly at the wall in front of me. She didn't explicitly mention it on her update, but I could piece together what might have happened to her before—the memories that she's trying to lock away. I kinda suspected it when I was deducing why she transferred all the way here in Pampanga instead of staying in Manila a few weeks back. But I wasn't sure because I didn't have any strong proof apart from her behavior.

Now it's almost confirmed. She didn't have to say the words. I read between the lines.

Should I feel guilty for what I did? I couldn't say. For the past six months, I'd been at the receiving end of psychological and emotional pain that my sensibilities became dull and numb to it. I could hardly tell whether I was giving the same amount of pain or not to other people.

But I'd be an asshole if I wouldn't acknowledge her feelings. Her pain. Her trauma. My instinct told me that there's something that I must do for her. Well, say would be the more appropriate term. Once I uttered the magic word, there's a likely chance that things would be cool between us. It worked on other people. It might also work on her.

I slept for only three hours that night. No matter how many times I turned in my bed, I couldn't get back to sleep once I woke up. It's a constant struggle—a fight that I'd always lose. There's no winning it.

Most of the time, I found myself in a dream. There's this girl with braided hair who always appeared in it. The way she looked at me, the way she called my name, the way she smiled—they made me feel as if I wanted to stay longer, that I didn't want to awaken from it anymore. But whenever that same dream turned into a nightmare, I always snapped myself out of it. I couldn't bear to witness what would happen next. That's how I woke myself up.

It's not a dream. It's a montage of happy and tragic memories combined in one recollection.

This had been going on for months. My mom asked me to consult a doctor about my condition. I loved my mom, so I followed her advice even if I was totally against it. On the day of my dreaded consultation, the doctor asked if there's anything that had been bothering me. I said none. Well, I lied. He gave me sleep enhancement pills to be taken thirty minutes before bedtime. I tried them, but they didn't work. I'd still wake up in the middle of the night, unable to return to sleep again. It felt like I was trapped in this cycle forever.

Instead of wallowing in despair, I decided to embrace my sleeping condition. What's the point of going against it anyway? I'd rise from bed earlier than most teens around my age and do something. And that's what I did this morning. I grabbed my laptop, sat on the sectional couch, and looked around me while waiting for my device to boot.

The best thing about waking up this early was the peace. No noisy neighbors engaged in a shouting match. No loud cars and tricycles driving by the road. No distracting light from the sun that permeated through the windows. All I had was me and my laptop. It's lonely, but peaceful.

When my laptop was logged on, I opened my browser and started composing an email. This had become my coping mechanism every time I almost fell into that nightmare.

To: Rhea (rhiannon.delos.reyes@qmail.com)
Subject: Just checking on you

How are you doing?

It's been three weeks since I sent my last email to you. You haven't got back to me yet. It's either you're too busy to check or you don't open your email as regularly as I do.