1

On the first of December, the most festive month of the

year, I was held up by six minors at the corner of Dr. A. Santos
On December’s Eve
4:36pm, November 30, 2010
Avenue and Lopez Avenue in Sucat, Paranaque. They took my
laptop, a Blackberry 8800 lent to me by a good friend, and a
Louis Vuitton wallet that belonged to my late grandfather.

“Saan kita dadaanan?”, Misty asked me through text.

“Sa labas nalang ng village ko, sa may 7-11 dun.”, I

replied.

I work for money by doing school papers for other

people. On the eve of the first of December, Misty asked me
to meet up with her to finish the final stack of paperwork I
was assisting her with. I like writing. I like money. I like
writing for money. Even though I pluck every last nerve of
my brain every time I do challenging assignments, I still
push myself to do it. I like money but I do not like asking for
it. I take pride in using my own money most of the time so I
can go out as much as I want to. It did not matter how I got
to the places I was invited to for as long as I got there safe
and untouched. On this particular day, I went to BF Homes
Paranaque not for a night out with my friends but for work.
No more, no less.
Misty imposed her own deadline at 6:00pm. At that
time, she should have already sent the files to the printers.
But she failed to make her own deadline. I can’t say I’m
surprised. Everyone struggles with deadlines. We then
rushed to the printers only to find out their prices were too
expensive,
“Magkano mag-print ng black and white?”, Misty
asked the employee in charge.
“10 pesos po per page,” he answered. Misty looked at
me in awe.
“Should I? Dein na, draft pa lang naman eh,” and so
we declined. An hour late, she hurried back to Alabang to
meet with some friends and dropped me off at Tarlac Rice
at the corner of Elizalde Street and Aguirre Avenue where I
hailed a tricycle to take me back to where Misty and I
stayed to work on her paper.
The Café Boheme.
This place along Aguirre Avenue boasts of its warm
atmosphere and relaxing ambiance. It gives me a homey
feel, one of those places where I could be relaxed and
focused while doing a paper. I could practically work all day
in this place. Pabelle and I agreed to meet back at the Café
Boheme after Misty and I visited the printers. I worked on
two papers that Patricia asked me to do and had to meet an
11:00am deadline the following day. At 12:00mn, I was
already done with one of the papers and the other one I had
just started and left to continue at home. I felt the need to
clear my mind. Rest it so it won’t abandon ship. After an
hour of chuckling, I was once again relaxed, liberated from
stress. At exactly 1:00am, A waitress approached the table.
“Last call na po,” she announced.
None of us even reacted to what she said because we
were not planning on ordering more anyway. After ten
minutes, we vamoosed from the place. Pabelle offered to
drop me off somewhere to make it easier for me to get a
tricycle since I had to commute going home.
“Sige, bye!”, I shouted.
“O, saan ka? Drop na lang kita sa Mercury, dun din
naman ako dadaan pauwi,” Pabelle insisted.
The Mercury Drugstore at the corner of Aguirre
Avenue and El Grande Avenue in BF is where my friends
usually drop me. It was the nearest place to where I pass
going out of the village and it was also on the way to
Pabelle’s route going home. And so I agreed.
Pabelle dropped me off at the Mercury Drugstore
where I hailed a tricycle after five minutes. The tricycle
driver asked, “Saan po?” I have a big tendency to murmur
my words without noticing it and at this moment, once
again, I spoke words only I could hear. I muttered the name
of the place where I wanted the driver to drop me off. He
did not understand at first. I then cleared my throat and
said, “Lopez.”
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2 in front of a Banco Filipino ATM to wait for the pedestrian
The Distress Call
1:19am, December 1, 2010
We then proceeded on to Lopez. The tricycle driver
ignited his engine, revving his motorcycle a la Gran
Turismo Tricycle Edition. I felt the crisp air of holiday and
realized it was already the first of December. This month is
the most celebrated month of the year. Like any other
normal ride from point A to point B, my mind fluttered. I
kept thinking about the piece I was going to write once I got
home. What was 10-minutes felt like 2-minutes because my
mind was somewhere else, not minding the length of the
ride.
The tricycle then pulled over in front of one of the
convenience in Lopez, the Best Choice Convenience Store. I
got out of the tricycle, reached for my pockets and took out
money to pay the driver. The fare was 8-pesos. I gave him
10. Of course, he gave me 2.
Like always, I checked my phone and wallet first
before I completely left the tricycle. The bag where I kept
my laptop was still on my shoulder. I walked on towards
Sucat Road. It was 1:20 in the morning and the street
vendors were asleep. If not asleep, drowsy. The usual noise
coming from the pirated DVD vendor’s small television was
not there. There were no sounds resonating from Sucat
Road. No horns, no raging mufflers. Even at this setting, I
was caught completely unaware of the danger that I was
about to encounter. I went forward and turned right to stay
light to turn green. It was well illuminated there and I knew
there were police men lurking in the darkness. I took out
my phone to text my mom and have her pick me up outside
our village. But before I could even open the SMS screen, six
strangers appeared on my left side and at that moment I
knew, I made a stupid decision. I found myself floating like
a duck on murky waters.
“Putang ina!”, a male identified as Jason screamed
while he snatched the phone off my hands. I saw two guys
walking past us and stopping to check if someone was
coming. Two others went to another direction to check
there. One of them took my bag which I only noticed when I
saw him slowly opening the flap of my messenger-style bag.
I was surrounded but I kept my disposition. The back cover
of the Blackberry was loose and fell off easily, and so it did.
I did not know what I was doing. I bended over to reach the
back cover but for some reason, I found myself standing
stiff again. It felt like everything was happening all at the
same time. Unfortunately, the police were not there to
come to my aid.
 “Putang ina, papalag ka? Bigay mo na lang!”, Jason,
the leader of the pack, said in a rough, almost roaring tone.
His eyes glared at mine, they were fiery red. I knew this
person was under the influence of some sort of intoxicant.
His left hand was concealed and placed at his back. I did not
know what he had in there. I had no intentions to know. So
I surrendered and gave them everything.
“Eto na nga! Binibigay na nga e!”, these words just
came out of my mouth. I did not even think of saying it, it
just happened. Then they proceeded on to feeling me up to
check for more things they could rob from me. I felt the
person on my right reach for my wallet. He had a hard time
taking it out and so I opted to take it out for him. “Eto na o!
Eto, eto.” I handed him the wallet feeling defeated.
Strangely, I found myself facing the other side without
remembering how and there it was – one spiteful blow to
my left ear.
Jason threw his fist at my left ear. I did not feel
anything. I guess the brain loses the capacity to feel during
situations like these. After pulling a Pacquiao on me, Jason
once again threatened me. Until now, it remains unclear
how I provoked that person to punch me.
“Putang ina, papalag ka?”, he repeated. It was like it
was the only structured sentence he knew. It wasn’t even a
good sentence.
They evacuated the place and walked towards the
side of Sucat where I was supposed to be going towards. I
followed them, they continued to shout threats but I chose
to not mind them. I turned to 7-11 where I sought help
from the cashier and the guard on duty. Who knew that that
store of green, orange, and white stripes would live up to its
label – a convenience store. And so I conveniently charged
in.
“Uhm, pwede pagamit ng phone?”, I asked. I have a
knack at making myself look normal even though on the
inside, there’s another story aching to be told.
“Ay, bawal po.”, the cashier answered in an
apologetic tone.
“Naholdap ako, patawag please.”, I said the word
“please” but my tone demanded a phone call.
The guard asked me what happened and where I got
held up while he prepared the phone. I answered,
struggling with words I could not get myself to tell the story
right away.
“Tawagan mo yung mga pulis ngayon na.”, I
demanded the guard.
”Miss, may cellphone ka ba? Kailangan ko lang
tawagan mommy ko,” I asked the cashier girl. The guard
talked to the police while I was engaged in a conversation
with the cashier.
“Smart po ba? Doon lang po ako unlimited eh. Pero
kung hindi po, pwede niyo nalang po i-text tapos patawagin
niyo na lang po sa akin,” suggested the cashier. I was in that
state where I forgot things other than what I had to do. I
forgot the existence of the SMS because I was set on the
thought of calling my mom.
 I texted her, “Ma, tawagan mo ako ngayon na please-
bugoy”, and not wasting any second, she called and asked
why.

“Naholdap ako.”

“Putang ina! Saan?!”, I think I heard enough of this

curse for the night but it was apt for the moment.

“Sa Lopez.”

“Ano nakuha?”

“Laptop, cellphone, wallet.”

“Putang ina!”, there it was again, “Okay, okay.

Papunta na ako diyan.”

The travel time from our village to Lopez usually

takes 10-15 minutes on a steady pace. But this time, after
three minutes, my mom arrived. And finally, so did the
police.
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