In the Intensive Care Unit of the hospital where I work as an ICU staff nurse, we care for patients with critical conditions, we sometimes call them "ticking time bombs" because you may never know when the critical moments would happen. But it always does; and this time, it happened during my shift.
Vital signs monitor beeped loudly in the background, signaling a patient in distress. Everything else around me fell dead silent. My ears rang as I rushed to the patient and immediately began CPR. Behind me, one of my colleagues pulled the emergency cart and started preparing life-saving medications. Another nurse called the resident doctor from the ER for a Code Blue.
I glanced at the monitor. The patient's vitals were dropping to a critical level, but I continued CPR with all my strength. The nursing assistant was pumping air using an Ambu bag. I silently prayed, "God, please help us bring this man back to life."
The resident doctor arrived just thirty seconds after being called, barking out orders I couldn't fully hear. But all of us staff nurses reacted swiftly. I turned to my right, powered up the defibrillator, and shouted, "CLEAR!" The rest of the team echoed.
I shocked the patient.
Still no improvement.
I continued CPR. Time became meaningless. We were all pushing past our limits, yet the patient's vitals remained flat. I glanced up at the clock on the wall.
"Doc... Time of death: 11:29 a.m.," I said.
Why couldn't I save him?
I walked straight to the nurse's station and collapsed into a chair. In front of me was the patient's chart. One of my colleagues tapped my shoulder, gave me a reassuring smile, and thanked me for helping her patient. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then I stood up, grabbed my belongings from the locker, and exited the hospital.
I got into my 2021 Honda Civic and hit the road. I drove out of the city, toward my usual spot where I decompress after difficult shifts—my sanctuary. I remembered the six-pack of San Miguel Light beer I had packed in the car's compartment. I turned on my signal and stopped at the Hilltop View Deck. Stepping out, I walked to the other side of my car, opened the door, and took out five cans.
I sat on the grass next to my car, drank all five, lay down, and looked up at the sky. The moon was full, and stars—once drowned by the city lights of Davao—now shone brightly. It was calm, peaceful. My mind finally eased.
I didn't realize how long I had been staring at the moon. My eyelids grew heavy... and eventually, I fell asleep.
WHOOOSHHH!
Tall oak trees swayed as wind blew through their branches and leaves. The early sunrise painted their trunks with a red-orange glow.
BIRDS CHIRPING.
"It's cold..." I thought as I opened my eyes. Towering trees surrounded me, bathed in the light of dawn. I turned and stood, stunned by the view in front of me. I was at the edge of a cliff, looking down at a forest that stretched for miles, with a river cutting through its center. In the distance were mountain ranges that reminded me of the Kitanglad Mountains in Bukidnon.
"Wow." For a few seconds, I was in awe. After all my years of mountaineering throughout Mindanao, I had never seen a view quite like this.
Then it hit me—I was supposed to be in a park. There were cafes, small inns... and my car. I turned around and saw nothing. Just trees, bushes, and an eerie forest.
"Yawa! Asa akong sakyanan?!"
(F... Where's my car?!)
That car meant the world to me—I worked hard for it. Even though it was secondhand, the pride I felt owning it was something else.
I ran and searched the area.
"MY CAR!!!" I screamed.
Then I stopped.
A child was screaming nearby. I turned left, then right.
"Is someone in trouble?" I wondered. I tried shouting—but froze.
Voice check? I swallowed hard.
"Is... is that my voice?"
I touched my neck. My face. My body. I wore a white shirt, brown cotton shorts, and I was barefoot... and I—was a kid?!
"What the hell? Maybe this is just a dream."
I pinched my cheek, hard. Closed my eyes. Opened them.
Still the same forest.
Still the same body.
I turned back toward the cliff.
Maybe if I jump, I'll wake up...
I walked to the edge, looked down at the hundreds-of-feet drop below. The cold wind blew against my face, as if the world itself didn't want me to fall.
"Yawa, murag manig tinuod."
(Damn, this feels real.)
I closed my eyes.
Kyle, this is just a dream. You've dreamt weird stuff before. This is nothing.
I took a step…
And fell.
The air rushed past me. My stomach twisted. Gravity wrapped its cold hands around me.
I opened my eyes.
This wasn't a dream.
THIS—WAS—REAL.
I screamed every Bisaya curse I knew, eyes wide, wind tearing past me. I crossed myself and prayed, begging for forgiveness and divine help.
Then suddenly—I felt something warm on my right hand. A glowing white light appeared, and a crest formed on my skin. The world turned blue.
I shut my eyes tight.
The falling sensation stopped.
The hands of gravity had vanished.
I opened my eyes, only to see a wild boar just below me, its eyes wide in fear.
I landed hard on the ground, while the boar bolted in terror.
I groaned and rubbed my sore butt.
"Yaga, tinuod jud diay tung kuan."
(Damn, that fall was real.)
The warmth in my right hand returned. I raised it and saw the glowing crest again. I reached out and touched it—but the glow vanished, leaving behind a permanent mark etched into my skin. I tried wiping it with my torn shirt. Nothing. The mark wouldn't go away.
Sigh... now where do I go?
My stomach growled.
"Gutom nako dah."
(I'm hungry.)
I remembered the river I'd seen from the cliff—it was far, but maybe reachable even barefoot.
Looking at the sunrise, I identified east. My Boyscout training back in elementary and junior high came in handy. I thought about the three options: follow the sun, or go forty-five degrees left or right.
I sat down and tried to recall the layout of the land from memory. I raised my right hand, extended my finger, and began the old nursery rhyme:
"Bintot-Bintot, kinsay pala utot. Butikaw, Butikaw, I....KAW."
My finger pointed east.
"So, east it is," I said aloud.
And barefoot, I walked into the unknown—toward the rising sun.
Walking barefoot in a forest is very dangerous. Tiny rocks and twigs can pierce through your feet if you're not careful. Speaking of being careful—I picked up a small branch from the ground and started whacking it like a madman before every step I took, trying to scare off any snakes hiding beneath the leaves.
Whack.
Step.
Whack.
Step.
Whack.
Step.
It went on like that for about five minutes. I finally stopped and turned around, thinking I'd walked kilometers, driving away snakes with each strike.
But my face fell—I'd only made it five meters from where I'd first fallen, miraculously saved earlier by an unknown power in my hand.
Sigh.
I turned back in the direction I'd chosen and continued on, whacking the ground before every step.
SNAP.
My stick snapped in half. I tossed it aside and scanned the area for another one. My eyes landed on a promising branch. I reached out and grabbed it—but it felt squishy.
"The hell?"
I pulled it up, and my eyes widened—it was a diamondback snake, one of the most venomous snakes in my world. In a flash, it bit my right hand.
Without hesitation, I slammed it on the ground again and again until its jaws let go. I spotted a stone the size of a basketball and brought it down hard on the snake's head just as it tried to slither away. The rock crushed its skull.
I stumbled back and checked my right hand—right where the crest was—but to my surprise, there was no bite mark. No swelling. Nothing.
"Yabag, sure jud ko na paakan ko atong buang,"
(I'm pretty sure I was bitten by that crazy thing.)
I touched the spot where I thought the bite had landed, but then the crest on my hand glowed green, lighting up my face. I could feel nature's energy swirling around me. My eyes adjusted, and suddenly I could see every living thing hidden by the forest fog—as if I had a blend of x-ray and night vision.
Everything around me was filled with a green mist, like the breath of life from the scriptures.
I looked at the diamondback snake I had just killed. Its whole body was a dull grey. I lifted the rock I'd used to kill it and set it next to the corpse. I examined the snake's body.
"Its whole body is grey..."
I looked up and scanned the lifeforms around me. Each had unique colors.
Plants glowed with vibrant green, their life energy flowing upward from the ground through roots and into their leaves as light green particles.
Living creatures shimmered with red-orange hues, and inside their chests, green ethereal mist pulsed through their veins from their hearts.
The dead... greyish-black, drained of all essence.
I turned back to the snake. Raising my right hand with the crest, I touched the crushed remains of its head. The green ethereal lines emerged from the crest, slithering across my fingers and into the snake's body. Light green energy traveled through the snake's veins, reconnecting shattered bone fragments and torn flesh.
Even bits stuck to the rock were drawn back into the snake's form.
Piece by piece, its head reconstructed until it looked just as it had before I crushed it.
I slowly pulled my hand back. The ethereal lines retreated into the crest. I watched closely as the last strands disappeared.
Then, the remaining light green particles flowed toward the snake's heart.
In a single moment, it began to beat.
The snake's body shifted in color from grey to red-orange.
It slithered off through the dead leaves as if nothing had happened.
I stared at my right hand, amazed by the power flowing through it.
"Wow... never thought I could do that."
I stood up, but was hit by a wave of dizziness—probably from the sensory overload of the x-ray vision.
The upside? I could now see every living thing around me—no need to worry about stepping on snakes.
The downside? It was creepy. I could see bones, muscles, and organs. Every detail.
I shut my eyes in fear. When I opened them again, my vision had returned to normal. But now, I couldn't see through the thick, early morning fog.