Just about a day ago, I was merely a wide-eyed high schooler from the middle of nowhere. I mean, it was somewhere but does anywhere near a town surrounded by swamps count? Just now, I found myself standing on the precipice of a new adventure. Leaving behind the quiet serenity of my small town, I made the daring decision to migrate to the vibrant city of Barter, where endless possibilities awaited me. It was my senior year, and according to the random magazine I picked up back in my town, Barter State High beckoned with its promise of excitement and growth.
"If the city curses you, curse them back.", my father used to tell me that before I came here. However, I have some reservations regarding that quote. One, why would the city curse me? And second, how would I curse a city that's literally my dream? This is the Barter dream. This is Barter.
As the bus screeched to a halt, my heart raced with a blend of anticipation and nervousness. Stepping off the vehicle, I was immediately enveloped by the sights and sounds of the metropolis. Towering skyscrapers seemed to reach for the heavens, their reflective surfaces mirroring the warmth of the morning sun. The air buzzed with the symphony of car horns and a cacophony of conversations. This city had a pulse- a vibrant energy that permeated its very core. On the surface, in the eyes of an ignorant province infant, it seemed closer to paradise. I usually just see these sights in weekly newspaper issues or back in my town, the mayor's picture frames.
With my belongings in tow, I embarked on a quest to find my new home—the cheapest boarding house I could find (And yes, I still found it at a random newspaper back in my town). With my legs roaming here and there and the rusty scent of the bus permeating my body, I managed to visualize a path toward the place that was going to be my new home. Though the sun made my eyes squint, the vision of my place overpowered my senses.
My soon-to-be home stood unassumingly amidst a row of buildings, its weathered facade blending seamlessly with the character of the city itself. Its overall style was quite modern, though the wooden door with shell carvings reminded me somewhat of my hometown. For some reason, it smelled like wet wood and rotten fruits, but in a good way. As I entered, the door creaked, revealing a dimly lit hallway adorned with peeling wallpaper and worn-out carpets.
The floors moan whenever I step. Insects seem to care more about biting away the building millimeter by millimeter, while I just focused on walking into the lady behind the wooden counter.
The hallway stretched before me, dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights. With each step, the sound of my footsteps echoed against the faded wallpaper, creating a sense of solitude within the aging building.
Approaching the wooden counter, I saw a middle-aged woman seated behind it, her weathered face adorned with a warm smile. Her name, she revealed.
"I'm Dahlia, your landlady.", she spoke with a seemingly hard accent.
On the counter, she had a pile of old newspapers and a small TV that plays the current cable show. Despite the cracks in the counter and the peeling paint, her presence exuded a sense of familiarity and comfort.
"Welcome, young man," Dahlia greeted me kindly. "Your ID, if you may be so kind?"
"Oh, yeah! Here.", I opened my sling bag and handed her over my ID from my previous school.
"Juju?", she verbrated what she read.
I nodded, grateful for her hospitality. "Yes, that's me. It's a pleasure to meet you, Dahlia."
"Let me find if there's a room for ya."
She glanced at the worn-out ledger on the counter, flipping through its pages until she found an available room for my pleasure. With a reassuring smile, she continued, "Found it.", she looked at me. "Now, Juju, to secure your room, I'll need a downpayment of 200 pesos."
My heart sank at the mention of the amount. I had barely scraped together enough money for this journey, and the downpayment would leave me with only a handful of coins to sustain myself for the week. But there was no turning back now. I need to find a job. As I stood there, the weight of my financial predicament settled upon my shoulders. A wave of determination washed over me.
I reached into my pocket, retrieved the crumpled bills, and counted out the required amount. Handing it over to Dahlia, I watched as she carefully stowed it away in a worn-out cashbox beneath the counter.
"Oh, quick tour.", she stepped out of her current counter, and with her wide body, she moved through the cramped halls.
"Oh, sure.", I smiled.
She led me through the dilapidated building with an air of rough determination. Her steps were purposeful, her footsteps echoing in the dimly lit corridor. The flickering light from the overhead bulbs cast eerie shadows along the cracked walls, giving the impression that the building itself held secrets within its aging bones.
We entered the crooked kitchen, its worn linoleum floor squeaking under our weight. The sight that greeted me was a stark reminder of the boarding house's neglect. The countertops were cluttered with remnants of meals long past, dishes left unwashed, and an overwhelming sense of disarray. It was clear that this kitchen had fallen victim to years of abandonment.
Dahlia gestured toward the sparse pantry shelves, her voice tinged with a note of resignation. "This is all we have, I'm afraid," she said, her gaze fixed on the solitary container of salt I had retrieved moments ago. It stood as a lonely testament to the scarce provisions of the boarding house.
Moving on from the kitchen, we stepped into the small backyard. Neglected weeds had overtaken the once-manicured lawn, their tendrils reaching toward the sun in a desperate plea for attention. The cracked tub, nestled against the peeling fence, appeared to be the sole fixture of interest in this barren space.
"This is quite nice.", with modesty, I commented.
"You're too nice.", she cackled. "That cracked tub is where rainwater goes. The rainwater then makes a home for mosquitos wherein they bite borders, give them malaria, die, and free some room for people like you."
"Ahaha.", I was hesitant to laugh.
"Aha!", she raised her hands, "Just kidding!"
Dahlia's voice was tinged with regret as she spoke of the backyard. "This is all we've got too- out here, I'm afraid," she muttered, her eyes scanning the emptiness.
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I peered into the tub, its surface mirroring my reflection back at me. The water was still, void of any signs of life or vitality. It seemed to embody the desolation that surrounded us, a stagnant pool of lost potential. Though it is murky, I think some thirsty fool might drink it.
As our tour continued, Dahlia mentioned a basement, her voice laden with a mix of caution and dismissal. She explained that nobody ventured down there anymore due to the infestation of bugs and termites that had claimed it as their own. The basement had become a forsaken realm, a place avoided by all who resided within the boarding house.
Dahlia's rough demeanor softened momentarily as she watched me take in the surroundings. There was a hint of regret in her eyes as if the state of the building weighed heavily on her conscience. In that brief moment, I sensed a shared understanding, an unspoken recognition that we both dwelled within a space marred by the passage of time.
She quickly jogged back to her original place and looked me in the eyes while doing so.
"You'll be going in room A-13", she said. "That's 13 doors to my right.", she said.
"Right... Okay.", I assured myself as I rotated my body east. No keys? Maybe there's someone there already.
A-13... I stopped at a mint green door. It was open. The sight was a moment to behold, and I took a piece of the cracked walls as a reminder of my newfound journey.
Inside my assigned room, I was greeted by the presence of a person, probably the same age as mine, wearing a tie-dyed shirt. He smells spicy? My new board mate is a hippie? So it seems.
"Name?", he glanced at me holding a newspaper... a familiar one... Ah! It's the weekly issue newspaper I used to read. At least I have something similar with my roommate.
"Uh...", I became hesitant. People like these weren't usually that prominent in the province. "Juju."
"Addu.", he replied.
Addu's weathered gaze held a depth of experience and caution, instantly captivating my attention. "Juju, my friend," Addu began, his voice carrying a mix of concern and wisdom. "Barter is a city of contrasts. While it teems with opportunities, it also harbors hidden dangers. Drugs, alcohol, and gangs have become commonplace here. It's crucial that you remain vigilant."
For some reason, he seemed more like a tourist guide than a hippie.
Though his words resonated within me, striking a chord of apprehension and striking a part of me. My initial excitement waned, giving way to a more somber realization. Barter was a city filled with labyrinthine streets, and I had just arrived, unprepared for the challenges that lay ahead.
Nodding, I expressed my gratitude for Addu's guidance, assuring him that I would heed his warning. The city was a wild beast, untamed and unpredictable, and I needed to navigate its twists and turns with utmost caution. I placed my bag in an empty bed just parallel to his.
Addu didn't really move as I was unpacking, rather, just spoke endlessly about how dangerous this city was. Is it really that bad? Was it, not a great decision to pursue a higher education here?
Each of us had a desk, positioned in front of the shared window. As I approached mine, the scent of old wood permeated the air, mingling with the faint odor of my roommate's lingering presence. The surface of Addu's desk was a chaotic mess, with papers scattered haphazardly, half-empty cups, and remnants of meals forgotten. It seemed to mirror the disarray of his life, a visual representation of his cluttered mind.
Determined to make some space, I resolved to move my own desk. But as I laid my hands on the worn edges, I realized its weight was far more substantial than anticipated. It resisted my efforts, its stubbornness a reflection of the immovable aspects of my own life.
With a frustrated sigh, I decided to investigate the desk's hidden compartment. I pulled at the stubborn latch, finally prying it open. To my surprise, it revealed a treasure trove of discarded items and forgotten remnants. Unused cigarettes, burnt paper, crumpled foil, a solitary ballpen, and bits of chalk tumbled out, spilling onto the desk's surface. The compartment seemed to have become a repository for the random detritus of daily life.
As I gazed at the jumble of forgotten objects, a sense of resignation washed over me. The task of sorting through the accumulated debris felt insurmountable, and I realized that some things were better left untouched. I closed the compartment, allowing the hidden remnants to retreat back into obscurity, joining the forgotten corners of my existence.
Seeking solace from the chaos, I bent down to inspect what lay beneath my bed, hoping for a glimpse of order in the disorder. Instead, I was met with a sight that mirrored the room's untidiness. Discarded forks, remnants of forgotten meals, and a couple of forgotten coins lay scattered on the floor. They served as a reminder that even the hidden spaces held their fair share of debris, a testament to the neglect that had pervaded my life.
"What..."
"Oh yeah, my old roommate died from Malaria.", he sighed. "I haven't cleaned that side of the room either."
And just like that, my optimism disappeared. Ah, shit.
"Oh...", I released a humble response.
I should have bought something to eat for the night.
"Uhm, Addu?", I spoke to the bubbly hippie in front of me.
"Speaking."
"I'll go out for a while to buy some food. Do you know any cheap stores that sell those?"
"Cheap?", he thought. "Your budget?"
"Probably around 20 pesos...", I sighed.
"Hmmm.", he acted as if he had a long beard on his chin. "There's a hopia store right around the corner when you leave this building. They sell those hot stuff for like 15 pesos."
I smiled, "Thank you!"
"Buy some for me too.", he said and pointed at a pile of coins near his desk. "Grab some coins, and treat yourself an extra food too."
"Wait really?"
"Yeah...", he said while his eyes were glued to the newspaper. "I don't want to be called a rude roommate, do I?"
"Cool.", I said, grabbed some coins, and head out.
Leaving the boarding house, I stepped out onto the bustling streets of Barter. Every sight, every sound felt amplified. I was surrounded by a vibrant chaos that both intimidated and fascinated me. The air crackled with anticipation, the energy of the city seeping into my very being.
However, my journey took an unforeseen turn as I ventured further into the heart of Barter. Suddenly, I found myself face-to-face with a pair of menacing figures. Their eyes glared with malice, and their wicked grins sent a chill down my spine. Thugs...
Fear gripped me, my heart pounding against my chest like a frantic bird desperate to escape its cage. But I stood my ground, summoning every ounce of courage I could muster. In that pivotal moment, I understood that my path in Barter would not only be paved with dreams but also riddled with trials of resilience and fortitude. The hopia store was right around the corner, but being a new face, I knew they were going for me. I was an easy target. Damn.
As the thugs closed in, their intentions hidden in the shadows, I braced myself for the impending confrontation. Barter, with its untamed streets and formidable challenges, was poised to mold me into something greater. It seemed Addu was sugarcoating. Will I die?
I was so ready to carve my own destiny amidst the trials and tribulations of my senior years at Barter State High, but is it going to end here? I looked out at the neon-lit signs and heard the distant sound of traffic, memories flooded my mind. I recalled how I used to romanticize this place, calling it my dream city. The allure of the vibrant nightlife, the promise of new experiences, and the joy of being surrounded by friends had fueled my dreams. I envisioned myself effortlessly navigating through the bustling crowds, attending glamorous events, and immersing myself in the intoxicating energy of the city.
But the reality before me was vastly different from the fantasy I had created in my mind. The air was heavy with the acrid smell of pollution and the lingering scent of drugs. Instead of being greeted by the laughter and camaraderie of friends, I found myself surrounded by strangers lost in their own worlds- thugs. The city had transformed into a terrifying place where the darkness seemed to seep into every crack and crevice.
My disillusionment grew as I witnessed a shocking sight.
I couldn't help but question my earlier idealization. How had I let my imagination paint such an idyllic picture of this city? Was it my naivety that blinded me to its flaws, or had the city itself transformed into a nightmarish version of what it once was? As the cacophony of sirens and distant screams filled the air, I realized that I had been chasing a mirage, a mirage that had shattered before my very eyes.