In this lifetime, we are bound to bump into countless strangers. Some may meet our eyes in a busy street, some may talk to us to ask directions or a small favor, some may eavesdrop our conversations with someone inevitably, and some who just had nothing to do with us. Nonetheless, some of those strangers eventually become familiar, become an acquaintance, and sooner, become a friend and a person whom we will cherish more than anybody. Happy and even sad stories often began with being strangers. A so-called “destiny” will interfere and may turn a perfect stranger into a perfect match or perfect enemies.
Someone ask me what am I as a stranger, on what instances do I feel like a stranger, and on how do I deal with strangers. All of these questions led me on a scenario with a perfect stranger that I will never forget.
It was fourteen years ago where notorious crimes are prevalent. In a slum area where residents are experiencing water crisis, a five-year old girl, her younger brother and her mother went out to fetch some water. After passing through a narrow, dark yet noisy street, they were welcomed by a long line of people who were desiderating for potable water. As the mother patiently waited for her turn to fetch water, her young children then wandered around to play hide-and-seek. The night didn’t scare these kids even the tiniest as the area was ecstatic because of the other children playing.
The young girl went out to hide while her brother seeks for her eagerly. She was finding a place to hide when a perfect stranger grabbed her into an abandoned space while covering her tiny mouth. Instead of being afraid, the young girl didn’t struggle to free herself as she was just curious of what is going on.
“Don’t scream. This will only take a while. If you obey, I will give you a peso,” the baritone voice of the perfect stranger lingered the dark space. The young girl just nodded, as she was taught to always obey what the elders say.
The young girl could only swallow her saliva in fear. She was so confused, so lost, and so naïve of what the stranger is doing to her. All of what was happening is a complete stranger to her.
“Sister, where are you? We have to go home!” a young voice shouted that interrupted the strange incident. It was her younger brother, who is still seeking for her.
The perfect stranger immediately stopped what he was doing, afraid of being caught. The undergarments of the young girl’s ankle were also lifted back to where it was and the lifted skirt was pulled down, hiding the evidence of the strange incident. A peso coin was also given to the young girl, as what was promised.
As soon as the perfect stranger left, the young girl was left in the dark space, confused and still gripping the coin. With unexplained fear, she threw the coin in the canal and run away from that dark space as far as she could.
What she could only do was to smile at her mother and younger brother who were waiting for her with a jug full of water beside them. She is hesitant to tell them what happen because she was still assessing that stranger incident if it is worth telling them or not.
Bearing those memories in her every nightmare, the girl grew up without telling the strange incident to anyone.
In this lifetime, we are bound to bump into countless strangers. Some may meet our eyes in a busy street; some may talk to us to ask directions or a small favor, some may eavesdrop our conversation with someone inevitably, and some who just had nothing to do with us. Nonetheless, some of those strangers eventually become familiar, become an acquaintance, and sooner, become a friend and a person we will cherish more than anybody.
Yet, I have met a perfect stranger who had left a hideous memory to me. A perfect stranger whose face was forgotten, but his memories are still a burden. A perfect stranger that I can never recognize when our eyes meet in a busy street, when we talk for directions or a small favor or when we hear each other’s voices. A perfect stranger who had left an obscure yet agonizing scar in this lifetime that only the two of us knew.
Happy and even sad stories often began with being strangers. A so-called “destiny” will interfere and may turn a perfect stranger into a perfect match or perfect enemies. Can I blame the destiny for the tragedy that happened to me 14 years ago?
Someone ask me what am I as a stranger, on what instances do I feel like a stranger, and on how do I deal with strangers. All of these questions led me on a scenario with a perfect stranger that I will never forget.
