In a much larger room inside the Angono Medical Hospital, laying on the bed with a body full of injuries, I slowly took my breaths.
The very room was chilling at best, the air-conditioner blowing at a range of twenty degrees Celsius while my nephew and I stared at the television in the top corner of the room.
But unlike him, I wasn't able to move, even if I wanted to.
"According to the statistical report, brought to you by our lovely-looking reporter, George here, it is said that another storm is brewing in the west Philippine Sea, approaching at a fast speed of sixty miles per hour. A little advice from your friendly neighborhood reporter: stay inside your home. Back to you, Chris."
The reporter finished his words before forcing a smile on his face as he pointed towards the camera.
My nephew pressed the remote button, and the television went off in a second. He sat at the side while making a dark face.
Well, considering my condition, it was normal for him to make such an expression.
"Uncle, don't force yourself." He carefully tucked the bedsheets to my side.
Then he said, "I know we can get through this. I'm sure Mother and the others are coming; let's wait for a few more minutes, okay?" before going back to his seat.
I carefully took a single breath. My jaw clenched as the pain in my body spread.
"As I expected," I felt my eyelids droop while the words passed through my head, "It still hurts."
I couldn't muster the strength to reply, so I continued to stay silent, knowing how even a single word could hurt my throat.
My nephew looked away, guilt streaking across his face. This was Zack, my older sister's first son.
My eyes darted to the very room I lay in. I'd only been awake for a few days, and during that time only my nephew had decided to stay with me. Not because my other family members don't want to, but because they were busy in their lives; their whole lives don't involve me, after all.
"I hope—inhaling slowly—they come visit soon."
I couldn't help but have these lingering thoughts about what my life could have been if I hadn't saved that family from that burning building, but the past is the past, and nothing can change what's already been done.
My name is Alvin Martin. I'm twenty-three years old and will be twenty-four in a few months, if I can manage to live that long.
I lay on my back, wearing a hospital gown while covered with clean white sheets, and my arms are pierced with several needles connected to a tube towards the dextroses on both sides.
Everything in my entirety has been covered with bandages, and so has my entire head. One of my legs was amputated because the doctors said it was damaging my organs, while the other was broken to the point where I couldn't feel its presence.
I was admitted to the Angono Medical Hospital a few weeks ago after being caught in an explosion. Well, that's not entirely accurate.
I wasn't caught in the explosion, but I was near it when it happened.
The only thing you need to know is that, I'm in this state because I chose to run towards danger instead of away from it.
The doctors have already stated that my condition was much worse than anticipated, deadly even. It was a miracle that I even woke up, they said.
They slowly explained every injury in my body a couple of days ago, and the very people I'd rescued were still recovering. One was in a coma, while the other was in good health and asleep.
They also stated that I could die at any moment, which was the worst news I've ever gotten in my life.
And they were right.
Even at this very moment, every bone and every muscle in my body were screaming from the pain; I just didn't show it.
I could still remember how I spent every single day playing with my nephews.
Those moments flew by in the blink of an eye, huh?
I was able to move in the last few days when I forced myself, but now? Continuing to breathe was the only thing I could do. I did my best to get better and did everything to last another day, but I knew nothing could be changed.
At this very moment, I could feel my life slowly being extinguished. Today was the day, and I felt it deep within my very body.
I won't be able to last till tomorrow.
.
.
.
.
.
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It all happened on a bright, sunny afternoon. I was delivering a small package with my friend to a small apartment in Manila.
The structure of the building looked much older than the rest; a modern feeling showered me whenever I looked upon it.
Everything was going smoothly. My friend waited for me at the truck while I went four flights of stairs just to drop off this one item, and as my luck has come to pass, the accident happened in an instant.
An explosion occurred just below the floor where I stood; each door of the fourth-floor apartments opened wide, and then the people slowly panicked.
A second explosion echoed. After hearing the sound, I immediately went for the stairs, hurrying to check whether we could escape.
My eyes widen, and my legs stop moving as the sight of the stairs sprouts these tall flames that reach the very ceiling.
Several people gasped behind me, and at that moment, all of us knew none of us were safe.
We ran back and checked for anything to keep us safe—a fire extinguisher, water from the pipes, anything that we could use.
But problems always occur during times of crisis.
The fire extinguisher was empty, the pipes were blocked, and nothing helpful came to our eyes.
By the time the people started panicking, they were crazier than normal.
But amidst them, there was this one man who stood strong among the rest.
He was a tall man, six feet five, who had this perfect body structure, a muscular body, and short, pointy hair.
He was handsome enough to become a model, not only here in the Philippines but also in other countries.
Based on my description, he also had squinted eyes. I don't want to sound racist, but he's probably part Korean.
He led the floor people to make a wooden bridge to cross into the other building; luckily, it was close enough.
And in a matter of minutes, every single one had finally crossed. A happy ending, right?
Well, I would've had the same outcome if I hadn't let my emotions take over.
Everyone had already crossed over, and I was the last one to go. I took a single step, continuing, but my feet stopped as the faint cry of a child entered my ears.
I turned my head; the fire was beginning to spread towards the fourth floor.
It was faint, but for a moment, I could also hear someone calling for help. A woman's voice.
I couldn't remember why, but at that moment, my legs ran in the cry's direction while the deep voice of a man shouted for me to stop.
The floor was hot—well, everything was.
The doors burned as the fire spread at a quick pace, resulting in shortness of breath.
I ran across the hallway, covering my face with my arm. I arrived at the scene in Room 55. The door was slightly open, and it swung wide as I kicked it with all my strength.
It was a gallant room, wider than what I'd expected, with decorations of different kinds fixed into the walls, and if you ignore the tall flames devouring everything by the second, this room would probably score a ten.
I entered a room that seemed to look like the master's bedroom.
Hands trembling, I caught sight of where the explosion sprouted; it was underneath the very room I stood in.
In the very corner, a woman's back can be seen. Her whole body is covered with small blocks of stone, and after removing each one, the woman faces my direction.
She was exhausted and on the verge of losing consciousness; several cuts and burn marks appeared all over her body. She wore something that looked previously like a long white dress, but now it was ripped to pieces as if a tiger had attacked her.
My eyes widened as I caught sight of what she held—in her arms lay a newborn baby wrapped in white cloth.
Several questions entered my mind as the moments passed. I heard her whisper as I stared in a daze.
"S-Save..." Her eyes force themselves to stay open. "Save my baby." Tears dripped down her cheeks, and without a moment, she fainted in my arms.
I was catching my breath and didn't know what to do. Yet my body began to move. I grabbed hold of the long bedsheets near my location and wrapped the woman in my back while her baby was in my chest, like a portable carrier.
I ran, carrying them both in the process.
I didn't have the necessary strength for this, yet my body moved with power at this moment.
Passing through the blazing flames and rubble, I arrive at the balcony in a few minutes. The people in the other building looked at me with wide eyes, shouting.
As the adrenaline spiked inside me, I felt my eyes darting in every direction. Where? Where can I go? What can I do?
I could make a rope out of sheets, but it seems like everything on the floor has already burned, or worse.
When everything felt like there was no way out, my eyes caught the presence of a crowbar beside my feet. Tools lay across the floor—the very ones used to build the crossing board.
An idea entered my mind—a crazy one, but can I do it?
It didn't matter; I was running out of time, even if the fire department arrived faster than normal.
The woman, her baby, and I would've already been burned to a crisp. Considering the nearest fire department is a few tens of miles away, and adding the ongoing traffic it takes to get here, they won't make it.
Without wasting a moment, I grabbed the crowbar and went towards the elevator. One thing I forgot to mention was that it was broken. That's why I took the stairs earlier when I was delivering the package.
"Please be on the ground floor. Please." I pleaded and crammed the iron doors open with all my strength. My arms shook, and my vision blurred as the elevator door opened after a few seconds with enough space to go through.
A smile spread across my face as I glanced into the deep darkness. As I expected, the elevator shaft was at the very bottom.
"Probably…"
I wasted no time on my preparations, wrapping my very hands in cloth, hoping my body would be able to take the fall.
Fastening the knot of the sheets all over my body, I was finally ready to jump, and I hope I was.
As I took a moment to stare at the baby's face on my chest, who struggled to breathe, the memories of my nephews entered my mind, their faces slowly changing in time, the moments we spent together, and the times we laughed.
I knew at that moment that I needed to succeed. I might be overthinking it, but I know that someone is waiting for these two somewhere.
I huffed my breath and finally took the leap of faith.
Grabbing the wire rope of the elevator shaft, I quickly descended toward the darkness, gripping with all my strength while my hands trembled. A burning sensation sprouted from my palms, and my skin began to rip.
I was not slowing down in the slightest.
I landed on my toes, feeling relieved, but as soon as I moved them, a cracking sound entered my ears.
As I thought, my legs were already broken.
It was a miracle I could still stand. It was a miracle I could remain conscious.
Struggling to live, I plunged the crowbar towards the opening of the elevator's top compartment.
CLANK!
It opened in an instant.
My vision blurred, and a streak of overwhelming pain flooded through my body as I descended on my two feet and started banging the door continuously with the life-saving crowbar in my hands.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
I repeated it until a man's shout came from the other side.
My eyes lit up as I heard the rushing footsteps coming closer, relieved at how quickly it took for someone to hear us. I grin and feel my eyelids dropping.
Who wouldn't be in this situation?
With burns and cuts all over my body and an additional broken limb, the elevator door opened after a few creaks.
I felt my vision blurring, and my ears produced this flat-tongue type of sound as my head started to sway. Even though I wasn't someone who cared for people, I was glad that I took the initiative to help. I didn't regret a single thing.
But little did I know that this was the very last time I'd be able to walk on my own two feet.
"I did good, right?"
My eyes closed as the people carried our injured bodies outside. Whatever happened after that was something I have no recollection of.