The Encounter I
The wind howled across the rooftop like a grieving soul. Cerilla stood at the edge, toes gripping the concrete lip as the city lights blurred far below. Her fingers dug into her palms, nails biting into the skin. One step forward and it would all end. “Ayoko na, Ma...” Her voice cracked. “Pagod na pagod na′ko.” Hot tears streamed down her face. Her chest felt so tight she could barely breathe.
Then she heard footsteps—calm, steady, and unhurried.
She looked back instinctively. Her shoulders tensed. A figure emerged from the shadows.
It was a woman.
The stranger walked straight to the ledge without once glancing at Cerilla, who stood a few steps behind. She stopped right at the brink, her toes hovering over the void. Standing confidently with her hands casually tucked in her pockets, she tilted her head and peered down into the abyss. A faint, arrogant smirk curved her lips with a quiet certainty.
“Hindi ka pa ba tatalon?” the woman asked, her voice low and emotionless.
“Ano?” Cerilla’s eyes widened."′Di ba magpapakamatay ka?” Her tone was hollow, almost bored.
“Sino nagsabi—”
“Wala ako rito kung hindi.”
“Bakit? Sino ka ba?” Cerilla raised an eyebrow, her voice sharp with sarcasm. “Ikaw ba si Kamatayan, sinusundo ako?”
“Hindi.” The woman didn’t even blink.
“So sino ka nga at anong ginagawa mo rito?” Cerilla demanded. “Kung balak mo ring magpakamatay, humanap ka ng ibang lugar na tatalunan. Ayoko ng may kahati."
The stranger slowly turned her head, her cold, ancient eyes fixed on Cerilla.
“Para sagutin ang tanong mo… una, wala naman akong sinabing magpapakamatay ako.”
She paused deliberately.
“Pangalawa… isa akong anghel.”
Another pause.
“Pangatlo… nandito ako para sa’yo.”
Cerilla stared at her in disbelief, mouth partially agape.
“Ano naman ang ginagawa ng isang anghel dito? Para pigilan ako tumalon?”
“Hindi.” The woman’s smirk deepened.
“Alam mo, ′di ka magaling bilang isang anghel,” Cerilla spat bitterly, brows knitted. "′Di ba dapat pigilan mo ’ko? O kaya magsabi ka ng kahit ano para baguhin ang isip ko?”
“Tama ka naman.” She let out a soft, mocking chuckle, tilting her head as she gazed back into the abyss. “Sabihin na lang nating iba ako sa lahat.” Her voice turned colder, dripping with disdain. “Bakit ko naman tutulungan ang isang taong ayaw magpatulong?”
“Eh wala ka naman palang kwenta,” Cerilla hissed, her jaw tightening. “Mabuti pa lumayas ka na sa harapan ko.”
The woman remained still for a moment, staring down at the sea of lights with an indifferent, superior expression. A chilling smile played on her lips.
“Okay,” she murmured without looking back. “Sabi mo eh."
She turned and began to walk away, each measured step carrying her deeper into the waiting shadows. The wind tugged at her figure as the distance between them grew.
Cerilla stood frozen, watching the retreating silhouette. A suffocating emptiness bloomed in her chest. With a trembling breath, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Magkikita na tayo, Ma.” Then she stepped forward and let herself fall.
For one terrifying heartbeat, she embraced the end. The air roared in her ears as her hair lashed across her face. But the fragile peace shattered instantly. Faces flooded her mind—her friends’ warm laughter and her little brother’s innocent eyes filled with trust.
She saw him so vividly it felt real—his small hands reaching out to clutch the hem of her shirt, looking up at her with a bright, hopeful smile. “Salamat, Ate…” he said softly, his voice cracking with emotion. “′Wag mo′kong iiwan, ha?” The words pierced straight through her chest.
“Hindi… anong nagawa ko?”
She had believed death would silence all her pain, but in that final, horrifying plunge, the truth hit her with brutal clarity. Her heart seized with panic. Her brother still needed her. He had no one else in the world—just her. She was his Ate, his protector, the only one who made him feel safe. How could she abandon him? How could she leave him all alone?
Regret crashed over her like a wave. A scream of terror built in her throat. She wanted to beg anyone for help, but the ground was rushing up furiously. So she screamed the words with all her soul, echoing desperately inside her mind: 'Tulong! Hindi pa′ko pwedeng mamatay. Pakiusap, tulungan nyo ′ko!' Tears burned down her cheeks as crushing remorse consumed her. She wasn’t ready. Not like this.
At that very moment, the woman stopped. A cold, knowing smirk slowly touched her lips—arrogant and ancient. Her golden eyes gleamed with satisfaction, as if she had been waiting for this exact breaking point.
"Rinig kita."
Then she moved.
In a dizzying flash of speed, the woman sprinted toward the ledge, her face eerily calm and clinical, untouched by panic. With graceful yet merciless precision, she launched herself off the building and dove into the darkness after Cerilla, slicing through the night like a silent predator claiming its prize.
In the open air, unseen by mortal eyes, brilliant white wings unfolded from her back—ethereal, glowing with an amber light. She cut through the wind like lightning, closing the distance between them.
Cerilla’s eyes widened in shock the moment she saw the woman falling after her. Surprise flashed across her face—she opened her mouth to speak, but darkness began to swallow her.
The angel reached her in a powerful rush. Strong arms wrapped tightly around Cerilla’s waist. She pulled her flush against her chest, pressing their bodies together with slow, deliberate possession. Her wings flared wide, beating once with majestic force and slowing their descent.
“Hindi ka mamamatay,” she whispered into Cerilla’s ear, a signature smirk on her lips. ”Not today.”
