4 Hours

By: Noella Marie Meneses

The piercing sound of the alarm from my phone had brought me back from the dead of sleep. I
wriggled on my linen bed and started stretching. As parts of my body were gradually turning on,
I looked above my head for a bulky black clock, ‘6:38 AM’. It’s another day of online classes.
Just the thought of trying to catch up with tons of homework, experiencing ‘lag’ or worse, no
internet connection during class, and multitasking learning and household chores, made my
heart beat uncomfortably under my ribs, and stomach churn. Online classes… or education
itself in times of pandemic, is very tiring.

As much as I dreaded it, I stood up from my bed. The aching weight of consciousness flooded
my muscles, and I groaned. There was a cramp in my neck, so I slowly untangled myself from
my flimsy brownish blanket to rub it.

I walked with the pace of a sloth towards my study desk, the wood floor creaking with each step.
I slumped on the battered leather chair and muzzily opened my laptop, my unfinished
homeworks greeting me. While reading, I could feel my eyelids trying to close and the black
rings around my iris growing bigger and bigger. I know I have to prioritize my school over my
sleep schedule (and sanity) if I don’t want to get kicked out of the house. So, I took a sip of
leftover coffee from last night, when I stayed up late trying to do homeworks as well. The cold
and filmy liquid immediately enveloped my mouth with bitter flavor and notes of caustic creosol.
With the adequate energy, I began frantically typing on my laptop editing different documents
and scanning my wrinkled notes for useful information. Soon enough, the rhythmical pitter-patter
of mechanical rain engulfed my room.

While doing my work I was continually rocking back and forth in my chair firmly, which soon
caused the backrest to flex and make a loud popping sound as if it were a giant Snapple cap.
This surprise averted my consciousness into checking my phone for the time, which passed by
as quickly as a thief, ‘8:03 AM’. I was already 3 minutes late for my first class. I dragged my
mouse in a panicked state and gazed on my laptop for a brilliant azure-colored button. As I
opened the app, a familiar ashen rectangle appeared on my screen displaying the text: ‘No
internet.’

I felt as though I had been hit by a wave of terror. We’re supposed to have a quiz today and I
cannot miss this one or else, I will fail the class. I looked around for my phone apprehensively to
check if I had mobile data left. I did, but it was inadequate.

Everything suddenly felt sharp. The chilled leather chair pressed against my back and sent
goose bumps down my spine. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. I could feel my face
starting to get hot and red like a blazing fire, and my eyes almost began with the water works. I
shakily tried to catch my breath while thinking of a solution. I kept clicking the ‘Join’ button, but
the same thing keeps appearing every time: ‘No internet.’

As if the weather felt my desperation, condensation started sliding its way down on my lone
window, leaving behind it a ribbon of smooth, murky darkness. After a few minutes, the sheer
suffocating heat and humidity submerged my cramped room, which did not help with the current
situation at all. I focused on deeply inhaling the pleasant scent of rain falling on dry soil and
shutting my eyes tight. Soon after, I was as calm as the smoothest waters —— but little did I
know, that would soon change.

“Anak, come downstairs and watch the tindahan muna! I have to go outside!” My mom’s shrill
call made me jolt from my chair. She was just at the other side of my room’s narrow chalk-white
door. I swallowed the lump in my throat that had accumulated and replied, “Mom, I have a
class..” —— “Skip for now, the tindahan is more important! You don’t listen to the teacher
anyways!” Each word becoming more muffled as she walks downstairs, “Sayang tuition sa-”

“Mom, stop!” I accidentally yelled as loud as the boom of a cannon, cutting her off. My mom
immediately replied, roaring in hatred, “Don’t you ever shout at me like that you ungrateful brat!
Later when I come back home, lagot ka sa akin!” Afterwards, all I heard was our front door
crashing against the wall.

Tears started pooling in my eyes again. I stood up despite my legs trembling and the appalling
dizziness ruling over my head. I reached for the steel door knob with scratches tainted all over,
and locked it, struggling as my hands were sweaty from the panic attacks I had just
experienced.

All of a sudden, my phone emitted a brassy, sharp sound that caught my attention. As if about to
fall I walked unsteadily towards the black object, lying on the filthy plush carpet in the middle of
the floor. I lifted it up to see on the screen, my teacher’s message: “Good morning class! I will be
moving our quiz in Math on Thursday. Because, unfortunately, I have not been feeling well. I
woke up with a fever, flu, and dry throat this morning. I hope you guys are safe and don’t forget
to drink water. By the way, I have left 2 activities for you guys so please check it out, the
deadline is on…”

I didn’t get to finish the rest of the message as my vision started to blur like a last star ready to
dissolve. I dropped my phone somewhere before sitting down wearily on the floor, resting my
back on a small tattered table, east of my study desk.

Hardly had I closed my eyes to blink, when a flash of lightning illuminated my room. I looked at
the somber weather outside my window, the aegean sky was overcast with clouds pouring rain.
Enveloped by the sounds of thunder and the rhythmic pounding of my heavy heart… I began to
weep as if I was a lost child. My limbs now felt weak and my breathing was ragged. I squinted
my eyes at the clock trying to see the time, ‘9:30 AM’. I shook my head. I have no idea if I can
still even attend my next class, or finish all my homeworks in time.

.
.
.

God, I am so tired already.