A dead frog
It’s 8 in the morning when Harold Gonzales wakes up fromhis fresh yet forgotten dream. He sits on the edge of his bed, trying to recall his dream. He touches his chest to feel his heart beating fast like he was being chased by someone he does not know. He thought maybe it was from his dream that he couldn’t recall. He gazed at his phone to be aware of the time. He remember that he has a doctor’s appointment at ten and a class in biology at one. He stands up, prepares his breakfast, and takes a shower for 15 minutes. At nine, he is ready to go, so he decided to walk for the reason that he still has plenty of time left before his doctor’s appointment. It only takes 20 minutes to reach the clinic of his doctor. While walking, he started to drift apart with his thoughts. has been in solitude for more than 3 years, with only a few people counted him as a friend. He’s in college now, studying to be abiologist. He is working hard to help his parents, to lift his life, for All these years, he has been at the bottom of society. People often belittle him because of his background. He came from a family of farmers in a not-well-known province somewhere in the south of the country, but that would change. After all, he is one of those students who have been expecting to top their courses. A reputation, he worked so hard like an ant getting ready for the coming rain. He is nearing the completion of his dream, but it seems After all his hard work, sacrifices, and pain, he still feels dissatisfaction and emptiness. That’s why he needs to see a Doctor, that’s the reason why he has an appointment at ten.
Walking for just a couple of blocks seems tiring for Harold, he’s feeling dizzy maybe because he’s anxious seeing a pyschologist, he regrets booking an appointment, but what can he do his doctor is waiting for him, he can’t go back or turn the clock around. He stop, look down and sigh deeply, but before sighing he saw a dead frog, his organs were squishing through out its body, blood flowing through the street.He thought someones car has a blood stain of this innocent frog in their tires, who after all just wanted to cross the street maybe to fnd a food or to lay eggs or to mate with other frog. He, once again drift away in his thought, seing the dead frog lying on the ground means it sufer from an unbearable pain. It gave him anxiety that maybe one day he can also feel what the poor frog felt, He fears death the most, to him death is both natural and unnatural. The world is weird he thought, or maybe God is weird God is mean. Why would he create a world where pain, sufering and disappointment dominate this cruel world and then refrain them from making sin. But this thought remains buried in the deepest section of his mind, having this kind of thought about God is likely unacceptable especially in his own society. Such ideology is a taboo or a sin, unacceptable. He look at his phone to be aware of the time, he has only 15 minutes left before his appointment. That does not concern him, he can actually see the clinic, it just couple of feet away. At exactly 10 he arrived at the clinic. He looks around, scrutinizing the place like an eagle on a hunt. “Beautiful” the only word he whisper in himself. He approach the woman standing in a long desk, clear his throath and say” Hello, Im here for my appointment”The woman look at him and smile “ Dr. Florence Gallego is waiting for you Mr. Gonzales, I’ll take you to his ofce.” Harold followed the woman, he fnd himself standing beside this tall woman.
“ You can proceed now Mr. Gonzalez"
Inside the office is inevitably comfortable, he feels warm, he wanted to fall asleep. While looking around, A woman who is in early 30’s is looking directly at him. A beautiful woman who has an optimistic aura. She is the pyschologist. In Harold’s mind how could he talk all bout his problem or what is happening on him when just a gazed on the woman face make his heart beat fast, he felt nostalgic, this is his feeling when he was woken up by his dream he already forgot.
“Nice to meet you Mr. Gonzales”
She talk with serenity like a lake on a fne weather. Harold smiled sweetly.
“ I can sense something melancholy about you Mr.
Gonzales, no! Can I call you Harold?”
" Sure Doc" He said.
"Call me Florence."
They both sat down on a sofa, the psychologist brought a notepad, and started to ask information about Harold. Harold can’t stop gazing on her therapist, scrutinizing her as if she was a meal in an unknown restaurant.
“Tell me Harold, what are you doing lately.”
“ I’m not doing fne actually, I felt pressured by my own self”
“How about your social life? I think you may have friends”
“ I do have but we’re not really that close.”
“Then they’re not really your friend.”
Both looking at each other, Harold, still mesmerize by what his therapist told him, looking back at his memories defning what the word FRIEND means to him. He have friends, He remembered distinctly that he has friends. What are friends anyway? People you say hi or hello when you meet them, that is what friends for him. He’s roomate is also his friend though he have no Idea where he came from or what’s his favourite food or his background. The important thing is he knows his name and they talk everday.
“ My roomate is my friend, I know his name and we talk a lot.”
“What’s his favourite food?”
“ Is that important? I didn’t came here to talk about my roomate and his favourite thing or whatsover, Im here so I can talk to someone that can give me a peace of mind or cheer me up, and it’s you doc”
“ You really don’t need to come here just to talk about your problem, you can just talk to your roomate or to your friend”
“why? I don’t even know them”
“That means they’re not your friend”
Harold is getting piss, he regret coming here for it’s just a waste of time. He thought coming here is a good idea, He thought that if he can talk to someone who is professional, he can let this heavy feeling that drowning him from the river of sadness. Florence look at him, smiled and start to laugh.She knows his patient is getting annoyed on her questions. Harold looks confused like a student.who doesn’t get his lesson.
“You know why Im talking about friend? It’s because I can sense that you are alone, you feel solitude. That’s why you feel melancholy, You need a friend, you have to talk to someone that is why you are here. There are people who don’t like to socialize and that’s okay. We’re from the same species but that doesn’t mean we like the same foods. Friends are replacement when our family can’t understand us. Knowing someone and discovering you have something in common is a gift. Having someone you can talk about your problems and vice versa can ease your feeling. Sharing laughter with them, having good and bad memories with them can teach you something that no schools can teach. I’ll say this to you, friends can help celebrate good times and provide support during bad times. You just have to learn to trust others, but frst you need to trust yourself”
After his appointment and his classin biology, Harold went home directly. Still trying to cope the words of his psychologist,.he still feel uneasy. It’s already four in the afternoon. Him, sitting in his sofa watching TV and eating his snacks, pancit canton with hard boiled egg when suddenly his roomate arrives. A usual he greeted his roomate. His roomate, who is living in the same house with him for 3 years smiled at him and went inside his own room. Harold remembered what Dr. Florence told him, about friendship and talking. Harold knock on his roomate door, His roomate open it calmly.
“ I made you a snack” said Harold
“Oh thank you”
“ Care to join me?”
His roomate smiled, he thinks this is the frst time in 3 years that Harold ofered him a snack. They sat down, watch tv, and talk . The clock ticks, the wind blows and the moon is already rising.
