Storm

STORM

December 7^th. A day before the fiesta in Dinagat, Surigao del Norte, my family set out for a perilous trip across the angry Pacific in a rattling boat. The heavy rain kept pounding on the rotting roof. The waters drummed on the sides and kept us unsteady on our feet. Even the wind were merciless;they deafen the ears. But the eagerness to attend a long-awaited family reunion kept us in high spirits amidst the storm.

It was almost impossible to cross yet we braved on. The boat had to sail in its slowest possible speed to keep it afloat. It was hell hot inside. Everyone was silent as statues and even the little kids were aware of the danger. It seems that the slightest movement will inch them closer to death. I opened up ode window to let the air in. Instead, rain ambushed my face. Still wet, I went out and climbed up to the exposed roof and sat beside my cousin who was soaked to the bones.

Fear crept up to my spine as I gazed upon the entrance to Hell. The view of the ravaging waters was frightening yet exciting. I suddenly asked myself how those majestic and calm waters in the summer could turn into havoc. But of course I knew the answers. As I closed my eyes, the boat suddenly jerked to one side I almost fell off. The waves must have sensed my fear and were now reaching its claws to drown me. An unknown darkness lay ahead. There were no islands nearby. The waves now as tall as buildings, shook the miserable boat for what seemed like eternity.

Suddenly I was aware I couldn't swim.

Water filled up the lower boat but we weren't sinking. Water filled up the lower part through open windows.

Flashes of light cracked open the skies and thunder played like an orchestra of death. While rain showered the tears of heaven and lamented upon our mishap, I was keeping the tears from flowing out of my eyes.

Two hours later we reached dry land.

The experience was worth forgetting but the memory cannot be tricked.