My eyes were closed, but I felt the ground beneath my feet wobble. It was a violent tremble. It is as if, some imaginary hand took a glass paper holder and shook it until the gold dust or white dot particles scatter all over the place. I imagine a spectacle of chaos; a pandemonium beyond my wildest vision. When the vibrations were over, I opened my eyes and found myself on a flattened ruin across UST. It was where the Ryan Jay Gym once stood. (or Shakeys) I cannot really remember. What I am certain of is that the overpass was still standing and thick dark clouds hung overhead.
To recall the events become more difficult the more I gain consciousness. I cannot say if there was an ambush interview by a reporter a few feet away (or was it on the breaking news on television that I was watching) The reporter was asking the former President Corazon Aquino. (makes sense, she was the president when the July 1990 Earthquake Struck) for insights about the major tremor. I didn’t wait for the interview to finish. Instead, I walked towards the overpass to climb its steep steps. I reached the summit minutes later and continued walking until I was at the middle of the overhead crossing. Surveying my surroundings, scenes of destruction were everywhere. Collapsed buildings dotted the stretch of Espana towards the direction of Welcome Rotonda. For reasons only my vision could explain, I cannot recall seeing another person aside from me. There were no ambulances or fire trucks passing beneath. Despite the earthquake, an eerie calmness lulled my surroundings.
The last thing I remember was looking still in the direction of Welcome Rotonda. With eyes fixed on the horizon, I noticed that the spot where the Espana Tower once stood and proudly touched the sky was no more. In its place were concrete slabs stacked on top of each other. They look like domino pieces strewn all over the place.
“I wonder how many people were trapped under the rubble,” I thought.
End of dream.
To recall the events become more difficult the more I gain consciousness. I cannot say if there was an ambush interview by a reporter a few feet away (or was it on the breaking news on television that I was watching) The reporter was asking the former President Corazon Aquino. (makes sense, she was the president when the July 1990 Earthquake Struck) for insights about the major tremor. I didn’t wait for the interview to finish. Instead, I walked towards the overpass to climb its steep steps. I reached the summit minutes later and continued walking until I was at the middle of the overhead crossing. Surveying my surroundings, scenes of destruction were everywhere. Collapsed buildings dotted the stretch of Espana towards the direction of Welcome Rotonda. For reasons only my vision could explain, I cannot recall seeing another person aside from me. There were no ambulances or fire trucks passing beneath. Despite the earthquake, an eerie calmness lulled my surroundings.
The last thing I remember was looking still in the direction of Welcome Rotonda. With eyes fixed on the horizon, I noticed that the spot where the Espana Tower once stood and proudly touched the sky was no more. In its place were concrete slabs stacked on top of each other. They look like domino pieces strewn all over the place.
“I wonder how many people were trapped under the rubble,” I thought.
End of dream.
9:00 AM
February 13, 2009
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