Today

I always walk in that centric space, the line separating a two-way road.

Only three lamp posts are lit.

A huge stretch of the sidewalk on my right is devoid of light, covered by tree leaves. Even a sliver of moonlight is weak enough to enter.

It's dark. 

I was thinking about the 27 Club from a tweet I've read earlier. I have a thing about turning 27. I was thinking, I am not a musician, but what if? Hey, I have three more years.

I was nearing the intersection where it was fairly bright. I stepped on the pavement and continued to walk.

Shadows on the wall, a quick glimpse. I muttered, this is it.

Somebody grabbed my bag. I turned. The guy was almost my height, but it was a blur. He tugged on the bag, I think I saw a knife in his right hand pointed toward my left hand. I tugged harder. He aimed his hand on my neck. There was no force. I almost chuckled.

I wouldn't let these fucking idiots get away with it.

He pulled the bag toward the motorbike, where his companion was waiting. I got dragged.

I was back in the middle of the street, hands still grasping my bag. He pulled. The straps were cut loose. "Hindi mo talaga ibibigay?" With confidence as tall as the Eiffel Tower, I shouted with all conviction "NO!"

A final, almighty yank and I was splayed on the street. I counted seconds. One, two. Nothing happened. 

It was quick, instant flashes.

Another motor was approaching and, quite rattled, the felons focused on threatening the incoming stranger. I took it as a sign. Looking up, I saw two guys peering at the videoke bar just a few feet away from me. I screamed "HELP! HELP!" They didn't move, scared of the man in the bike holding a gun.

In a snap, I stood and scrambled my way to the iron gate where the drunk men were staring. They let me in. I didn't know what happened next.

I know the fight wasn't even worth it. I only had 50 pesos and a few coins scattered inside my bag. What was there to lose? My passbooks, my IDs, my passport, the keys to my house? Those against my life?

Maybe it was the adrenaline, plus a backup of angels spearheaded by my mom. I did not feel terror. I just had a strong feeling that I would get away unscathed, and sometimes you just feel that. It's like knowing that no matter what happens, the hand was yours. Inexplicable, but it was there. Fate was working with me. 

Looking back, I feel like an action star. Now, there's a flash of fear, alarm. What might happen next? Do they have the gall to come back and wait for another window to attack, and strangle me this time? A lot of scenarios, all probable.

All I have now is immeasurable gratitude. A stronger faith. No hatred, just pure hope.