Dr. Jewel's POV

The skies were painted with bright orange and dim light, looking like an old retrostyle.

I can smell this place like a frozen memory. I don't know how my brain did it--- but maybe, the things we love always leaves a mark in our senses. They keep this memories vivid.

I sashayed my way down the dusty streets of my hometown. It's five-thirty in the afternoon. Where kids are playing in the streets and their neighbors gossiping. Lazy dogs lie down as being heaten by the sun. Everything is so normal, I can almost think that nothing had changed.

I gripped unto my yellow sunflower bag. It had contained junk foods and soda which I bought from the store. And cd's of an old romance movie that I haven't watched for years but still etched on my mind.

I had changed. Everything has changed. For every simple atom in the world changes in an instant-- you never expect anything to stay in the same way you want them too.

Say, life molds you like a scalpel. It is bound to be that way-- the process it painful. You'll need time to heal yourself. But the outcome sums up all, nothing will be better than being the best version of yourself.

I am a doctor. I don't make much money. It wasn't what my heart wants, but lately, I've learned to love it. Because at the end, I have to.

I hardly sleep. I didn't have the chance to eat well. Yesterday was a ruckus in the emergency room. I didn't have a sound mind.

Doctors are supposed to be calm. When we were just med students, we were taught very well to handle ourselves and our emotions.

I realized, we weren't taught to just vanish them all. We were taught to hide them well, behind our white coats.

I had a break from my work. I am going home now, which I seldom do. And I won't have to wake up so early tomorrow. Tomorrow is my free day.

I will do everything I want tomorrow. I will drink lots of beer. I will dance 'til my body hurts. I will be crazy for just one day. I deserve it.

I opened the rusty gates of my house. I had bought it for myself. The house was from my savings. When I was studying, I had a full scholarship.

My house is not so big, and not so small. I somewhat feel bad for not coming home frequently. I almost live in the hospital.

It's clean. I don't have time to make a mess. It was painted with pastel colors, yellow, my favorite.

I switched the lights on. My house was empty. I live alone. When I was younger, I longed for my freedom. Now that I'm adult, I realized that it's a bit... quiet.

I put the beverages in the freezer. I left the junk foods on the table. I decided to take a warm bath first before everything.

I opened the faucet that filled the tub with warm water. I hurried in my shelves to take a book to read before  soaking my body in water.

I saw a classic novel that I had started last month. It was a bit high. I jumped to reach it, instead, an old book fell.

I picked it from the wooden floor. It was quite dusty and really old. It has it's vintage pages and my cursive handwriting back in sixth grade.

It was my old journal. It triggered the sentimental in me, I decided to read it again. And ponder if I made the right decisions in my life.

Somehow, this is a great time to overthink. No one will  disturb me. No emergency rooms today.

I carefully put the book in a small stand beside the tub. I removed my bathrobe and soaked my body in water. It felt theraputical.

I opened that journal. It's my twelve year old self. I had seen the first words and critically noticed my mistakes in grammar.

If I had a red pen in my hand, I would've totally circled that wrong parts and corrected them.

"I feel so terrible today. I had failed an exam. I literally had 3 over 20 items in a quiz. I'm worried that I might be failing my grades. I cannot lose my honors," it read. And note that the I's weren't in a capital letter.

I chuckled. My twelve-year-old dilemma doesn't match to a twenty-six year old's. I have lots of daily complications in life--- bills to pay, patients to serve, sleeping habits, skipping meals. For some unfortunate day, I have to deal with curses from the patient's guardian. Announcing the patient's death, was the worst of all.

I have seen people with the most terrible problems. Being a doctor helped me to become optimistic in life. To stay calm even if I'm actually dying.

I flipped the page. It had a bright color of pen compared to the first ones. It reads my complaint about a member that left my favorite band.

I was so devastated, diary. Unique Salonga left IV of Spades! It was my favorite musician leaving my favorite band. I recently hear their songs playing on the radio, they're starting their limelight! But did this had to happen?!

I laughed. It was my first heartbreak. It seemed so serious to me in the past, now I care less. Maybe it's something that an adult learns by time. That things won't go the way you want it to. I have practiced acceptance all my life.

I read more and more pages. It was all about my immaturity, caring about irrelevant issues in life. Having a small understanding of what the world really is.

Some rants about my teacher that doesn't teach well. Or my classmate that didn't return the pen they borrowed. Maybe my hatred for my mother for overloading me with household chores. Or the math quizzes that I had failed and cried over days.

What's important is that I'm happy. I nurtured my immaturity well. I think at some point, we needed to ignore the world. It will come to us on the days that our soul finally grows into an adult. Because if it happens, you can never go back on your childhood days.

I didn't know how much hours I spent on pondering over my decisions. Having deep thoughts about life, when I don't even know what it holds. I just remember lying on the bed comfortably, with my relaxed and sore body.

I closed my eyes as the memories flashed on my mind. It came like a fast whirlwind of varying emotions. My heart pounded heavily.

I slept peacefully. Like the world wasn't in chaos. Like I was only thinking about myself. Like I owned every part of it.

Maybe because it was the last time I will, and ever think of my life. For it has ended---abruptly.



Third Person's POV

"Another frontliner has fallen from the war against the world pandemic.  A twenty-six year old Dr. Jewel Castro was found dead in her own home at eight in the morning.

It was supposedly the doctor's day-off and was advised to go at home. Unfortunately, she was a carrier of the disease and having asymptomatic condition," the newscaster announced.

Just like that, her life had ended. She wasn't able to drink beer anymore. No more dancing to death. No more chances of being crazy.

Her tomorrow's gone. It never happened. It was a fleeting life---and all her life she spent on the hospital.

Did she regret it? A pity for not having the best of her life's moment. Her dreams for tomorrow world, never existed. It was stolen to her, at the most unexpected time.

But the Almighty gave her the gift before her death. It wasn't a perfect day when she strolled down her hometown.

The sunsets were just in her head. It was a stormy day. It was dark and raining, far from what she thought.

There were no kids playing on the streets. The neighbors are dying of starvation, not gossiping like a regular day. Everyone feared for their life. It was lockdown.

It wasn't her day-off. She was dying. She decided to spend her last days on her own, without the knowledge of her loved ones.

The old book. She wrote for it the last moment before she fell asleep forever. And her shaky cursive letters read,

"Life is fleeting. I have spent it with worries, fears and regrets. Today is a precious gift. I will cherish my every moment. I may die tomorrow, next week or next month. What's important is that I was happy. I was happy to be alive, even for the last time."