Vivid

The bed springs groaned accepting her weight as she lay hoping to rest her weary body. Opening her eyes blearily, she scanned the expanse of her room, her sanctuary, examining it like an art curator would do with a new painting. The spackled white ceilings sloped off into an awkward angle as it met the low, overhead surface of the small area where the closet was adjacent to her bathroom. The muted glow of the yellow ceiling light and the harsh lemon glare emitting from the reading lamp merged in an almost classic manner and bathed the all too large room, creating a dark, lazy ambience. Her eyelids fluttered sleepily, and she stretched her body, feeling the cool smoothness of those ugly, patterned bed sheets rubbing against her. Briefly, she wondered if those faded brown designs were supposed to be zebra stripes or was it a disastrous attempt at a military-inspired pattern. The walls had the same plaster-like material the ceiling had but disappointingly barebones and plain in their unimaginative doctor’s-office-white shade. Last week’s laundry was littered all over the beige carpet. A black Billabong sweatshirt was carelessly thrown over a box of Prismacolor colored pencils and a pile of school materials such as binders, English books, and folders. The only focal point of interest in her sparsely decorated room was the quantity of bright and colorful posters (a blur of primary reds and blues) taped alongside one another that she brought with her every time they moved to another house or apartment. It helped her feel more grounded, but still… something was missing. She closed her eyes and contemplated. Inside of her uncommon emotions stirred; outside, the room obstinately stood in eerie silence, unaware of her inner turmoil. Under the closed covers of her eyelids and her mind, she drifted.

She was back in time, five years ago. Gingerly stepping out of her father’s blue green Lancer, she stretched her muscles which had cramped during the four hour long drive from Quezon City to the province. She smiled in recognition at one of their favorite vacation spots: the picturesque Taal Volcano in Tagaytay, Philippines. They were at a rickety-looking but fortunately stable ledge surveying the majestic yet tiny, restless volcano known as the Taal Volcano. Located in the Taal Lake, its crater-like edges reached towards the mainland. An island, known as Volcano Island, sat in the mossy green lake near the volcano, seemingly unperturbed by the dangerous objects that the little giant of a volcano could spew. There were gray blue mountain silhouettes wildly stretched across the visage of the horizon, their tops kissing the faint red orange glow of the dusky sky. Gangly trees surrounded the once eroded sides of the mountain slopes like an army of underfed teenagers. From there, Acacias, Ipil-ipils, and other tress, lush and vivid forest green terrestrial treasures, spawned the earth following its dips and slopes and straight-aways, making the land encircling the lake containing the active volcano look like a rich and peaceful garden. Silence pervaded the small landscape, and, for awhile, only the wind sang its glorious song of nature. The whoosh of the wind, the slight chirps of insects, croaks of animals, and the rustle of leaves created a concerto that rivaled the best works of Brahms, Chopin, Ravel, Vivaldi, and Beethoven put together. Her family and their friends paid homage and were content to be quiet.

Soon however, excited chatters filled the air as customary greetings were made. From her cousin’s headphones spilled a catchy and repetitive tune that sounded pleasant despite the warbling of the two female vocalists whose voices reminded her strongly of field mice squeaking in distress. It was one of those odd songs that became surprisingly popular (although her cousin told her it was because the two female vocalists had music videos wherein they acted like they ‘loved each other very much’, but the euphemism was lost on her). Hearing her mother’s frantic voice telling her to get off the small wall overlooking the lake, she hopped off and planted her feet firmly on the ground, missing the feel of her legs swinging haphazardly in the air. Her parents carefully set up a picnic on the dusty burnt sienna wooden tables that had nails and splinters sticking out. The savory smell of Chicken Adobo swimming in all its juices permeated her nostrils as she salivated. The breeze sent a rush of cool and invigorating air past their bodies tired and sweaty from the summer sun. She noticed an innocuous, concrete-colored lizard crawl hurriedly through a small hole in the wall. The environment around them created a desirable haven that made them momentarily forget the nonstop pulse of their city. They ate, talked, laughed, and played pranks on one another. Soon, the sun began its descent, and it was too dark and dim to do anything else but to sit still and be quiet once more. She lifted her head to catch one last glimpse of that curious volcano in the middle of the lake with its vegetation covered sides, a king in its own right. A promise was made that they’d be back. Sighing, she heard her mother calling her saying it was time to go home and reluctantly made a move to follow.

She opened her eyes to find herself back in her stark white room finally realizing what was missing.

(A/N: based on personal experiences but with a creative twist. I wanted to put as much detail as possible to make the place seem more... real. Well, because it IS real. Anyway, I'd like to know what you've thought about it.