I was lost.
A few years ago, Michael Scofield was the ideal leading man. He was smart, good-looking, and filled with tattoos. Determined and courageous, he had a goal and he didn’t stop until he achieved it. He was such a great leader, too. *Spoiler Alert* Even if meant dying to save his loved ones, he took charge when it mattered the most (literally).
In addition to the amazing storyline, he was the reason I got hooked to Prison Break. He was very intellectual and he proved that nothing can indeed stand in the way of a thinking man. Everything he did was well thought of. Every move was calculated. Every risk was measured. He had an else to every if and he always knew where to go.
After she left, my outlook about my beloved homeland started to devolve. I grew up fully accepting all of my country’s issues: corruption, poverty, feudalism, and all others. But since she moved to a different part of the world, I slowly realized that life may truly be better somewhere else. From a man who was happily enjoying his comfort zone, the Philippines began to feel like a penitentiary.
In my eyes, the government was filled with hardened criminals and the streets were littered with thieves. Traffic was synonymous to living in congested prison cells and the rising price of commodities emptied my pockets like gangbangers. Though we sent daily email journals to each other and talked for hours over Yahoo, I thought of them as conjugal visits. Simultaneously watching dvdrips with her wasn’t enough. I had to get out of the country. I had to channel my inner Scofield.
In front of me was my mom sobbing. She wasn’t ready to let me go. It was still all new to her. I should have informed her of my plan a few months ago but I didn’t want to jinx it. I was determined to escape and there was no way anyone could have stopped me. I embraced her tightly and whispered to her that she will one day see me again. With an assuring smile, I told her that nothing will go wrong. I walked passed her and exited my cell.
My dad and my brother were waiting inside the getaway vehicle. They were as anxious as I was. I had to arrive at the extraction point in one piece. We took off at midnight and never looked back.
Inside our transport were countless people like me. Sharing the code name “kabayan”, we all had the same tired and exhausted look. Some were blindfolded and some were holding prayer beads. As an air of uncertainty crept among us, the sound of our cries were louder than the deafening roar of the engine.
A turbulence was ahead and we stood no chance of avoiding it. Head on, we braved the storm. Freedom was a thousand miles away. We had to keep moving forward. We just had to.
After traversing unknown regions, we finally reached our destination. Qatar was just a door away and she was waiting for me on the other side.
I was lost.
Where was the freaking exit?
|picture in doha numero uno|
|picture in doha numero dos|