A night of fun can follow you forever.
It took her 10 years to learn that lesson. Her nights were spent bathed in lights and surrounded by strangers.
She loved the rush of the music as it spread through her body. She loved the new people, the exciting scenes. There were drinks she couldn’t pronounce and stars she couldn’t wait to remember. Her life was a party and everyone was invited.
But then she started to feel it.
The infection hid itself well, years would pass before the real signs showed. Fevers would be a normal occurrence, she would feel tired every day without reason. And there were the bumps.
The doctors told her that it was her body fighting against the infection. There were nights where she prayed they would fight harder.
She didn’t think, that’s what most people assumed when they found out. After enough bad experiences she stopped talking about it, even to her family and friends. It was the way they looked at her that changed, people used to see her for the beauty that she was, but now?
Now this was her life.
Antiretrovirals, they were supposedly her savior, but they could never quite come down from the cross. All they did was slow the progress of the virus in her body, she could live a normal life, or as close to normal as possible.
There was nothing more she wanted than to run back to her old life, of dark nights and wild passions, of finding the stranger that she would watch the sunrise with. But she was getting old and she could feel the weight of regrets keeping her close to the ground.
She would not be a prisoner of her regret.
There was still the rest of her life she needed to live. No matter how many summers passed over her, she still had hope that the future was there, waiting.
Waiting just for her.
She took a leave from work for vacation, everyone assumed it was because of the Holy Week. They expected to see pictures of her by a beach, sipping on a sweet drink and lazing in the sun.
But her true mission was far removed from the leisure and luxury that others had come to expect.
She did her research, there were tales that it went out of hiding during that time to look for more victims, children whose hearts it would make into an amulet.
She stared at the sack in the back of her car. It had stopped moving hours ago and she felt a pang of guilt. Was this really what she wanted to do?
She chased away those thoughts. She would not be defined by one thing, not anymore. Certain sacrifices would have to be made to ensure that she would find her prize.
No one knew what it looked like. There were stories of hornless goats and dogs that walked backwards. There were other tales of cat like demons with black skin. There was even a legend of a crow like body with wings and grasshopper like legs that it used to leap.
All she knew was that it was the last thing that could help her.
She took the sack and waited in the field until night fell. Her body craved cigarettes, but smoke might scare the creature off and she wouldn’t take that chance.
She held the gun close to her chest and sat silently. The bag started to rustle after a few hours, but she ignored it.
Her eyes were heavy when she spotted a large black spot moving towards her. It was fast, faster than she expected.
It reached the sack and carried it in its mouth. The creature was strong and stared at her.
Their eyes met and she raised the gun.
Four shots and the creature was gone. She couldn’t have come this far just to be left with nothing. She ran to where the beast was and spotted a small pool of black liquid on the ground.
One of her shots hit it. Her heart raced as she knelt to the liquid. She took some in her hands and swallowed.
It tasted of bitterness and bile.
It tasted of freedom.
*There are Urban Legends that state that the blood of a Sigbin can cure HIV/AIDS.
Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Inspired by the Sigbin myths
Awok Illustration by Leandro Geniston from Aklat ng mga Anito
FB: That Guy With A Pen