I don’t know how it started, or when, or where. All I knew back then, was that I went back to the classroom to look for a pen I probably dropped somewhere else.
I had other pens, of course, but there was something in that pen that I simply can’t be without.
So, I went back to our classroom, see, and as I entered the room, I noticed there was a girl sitting at the farthest corner, near the windows.
She had her head on top of her arms, slumped on the table, probably sleeping. Her loose long hair was flowing from a breeze coming in from the window which she probably left open.
I quickly went to my desk, peeped inside, did not find my pen, and decided to leave as quietly as I entered. But then I saw her hand. Her left hand with a bandaged finger.
It was her.
I looked at my watch. 5:38 pm. Classes ended at 3, so, have she been in here for almost 3 hours? Is she waiting for someone? Or did she simply fall asleep and lost track of time?
Against my best judgement, I went nearer. Her back rose and fell rhythmically.
I extended my hand to shake her shoulder and wake her up, when a stronger breeze blew into the room and removed the fringe covering her face.
Before I knew it, my hand went to her face, moving the rest of her fringe away, and then my eyes locked with hers.
Then I wake up in the infirmary with a huge bump on my head.
“Your mom’s on her way to pick you up.” said the school nurse. “Are you sure you don’t remember anything else?”
“Sure... And I still can’t find my pen.” I raised my hand to my right temple again. “Ouch...”
“I told you, stop touching it!” said the nurse. She pulled my hand down and checked the bandage.
“Who did you say brought me to the clinic again?” I asked.
“Year 7 class C’s Frederic Trinidad.” replied the nurse as she checked the log book. “He said they saw you by the stairs at around 6 pm, unconscious.”
“He was with someone?”
“His sister. I forgot to ask for her name, but they look a lot alike.” the nurse placed the log book in a drawer and looked at her wrist watch. It’s almost 7 pm.
“Can you tell me how she looked like?” I asked again, my head throbbing.
“Long hair, square glasses, she kept her face down most of the time so I can’t really describe her.
“Did she have bandages on her left Finger tips?”
“Hmm... come to think of it, I think she did...”
So, it is her.
My mom came in just then. Gave me an earful about running on the stairs. We went straight to the nearest hospital to make sure I didn’t get a concussion or something.
Next day, I decided to stay home. Found my special pen at the bottom of my school bag. Messaged some friends to keep up in class. Was glad that the weekend was coming.
All that time, I stayed at home, trying to remember what happened. How did I end up at the bottom of the staircase? What was I doing there? Where did the time between 5:38 to 6 pm go to?
And... what was her reaction when she opened her eyes and saw me reaching out to her?