"Hay Martina!"

I can still recall Intramurals 2019 like it was yesterday but not because of the loud cheers, the heart stopping tournaments nor the most awaited announcement of the overall champion but, because of an experience that brought me to the conclusion that I must be cursed.

I was sitting on one of those blue benches in the TAC ground floor on one humid afternoon. I can still vaguely remember how the place was filled with different food stalls and if you are thinking that I’m probably munching on cheese flavored french-fries and some smoking Takoyaki balls, you’re definitely – well, wrong.

It was the second day of the Intramurals and I was starting to get bored as I continued to play games on my phone, not even the food stalls could give me a sense of amusement. Suddenly, I received an unexpected text message from a friend of mine, it read, “ga intrams ra man mo no? Pa tabang ko huna-huna og ideya para sa akong project please?”

Thinking that it was better than just sitting there for hours, I quickly got up and called my friend, telling him that I would be willing to help.

Not long after that, I met up with him outside the CNU gates and we both decided to head out to a milktea shop where I could help him draft out his projects.

My dear readers, you must be thinking, “it’s just a short trip, what could possibly go wrong?” Oh, but a lot did go wrong.

I was hopping along the red bricked sidewalks in my sneakers, and blue pencil skirt while I endlessly chit-chatted with my friend. If you’ve walked by these sidewalks, you’d probably know that some of these bricks are shattered while some make unusual, hazardous bumps.

Unluckily, while I carelessly hopped, I tripped on one of the sidewalk bumps! Oh, you can only imagine how I flew up and landed face first onto the concrete floor like a plane crashing into a city. But there’s more! I wasn’t the only one that was set flying, my phone was tossed up in the air like a passenger who flew out of the crashing plane. In other words, it was a complete disaster – with zero survivors.

Soon after, I found myself sitting in an airconditioned milktea shop, still trying to process what had happened while I was holding my cellphone that now had a broken screen. My friend who tried so hard to hold his laughter bought me a cold milktea which I used as an improvised ice pack for the bruises I acquired from the tragic fall.

Later that day, I headed back to CNU to meet up with my friends at the Communication Department’s Radio barn. As I walked into the barn, I saw organization members all around, busy with reporting on the different events of the Intramurals.

As I sat in the corner of the barn, one by one the members stared at me, with a confused look.

One of our organization mayors, came closer and slowly uttered, “ni duwa kag volleyball?” as he stared at the huge, visible pitch-black bruise on my chin.

Yes, I acquired a big bruise on my face.

The other members started to ask questions too.

“Naunsa na imong nawng?”

“Asa man tawn ka napandol oy?”

I replied, “wa man gud ko na-apil sa swimming, maong ni sawm nalang kos concrete,” to which they burst out in laughter.

I went home that day, looking for an ice pack to put on my face. I still could not get over on what had transpired and the fact that I was still alive. I also found people’s reactions a bit funny.

But from all the reactions that I’ve seen and heard that day, my mother’s words were my favorite.

“Hay Martina!”