The sky is yet to wake up, but Yani is already alive and moving. His figure was like a scarecrow, unmoved while standing in the middle of his family’s garden. He held a doll crafted from straw and dead leaves—chanting to it with the purpose of cursing somebody. The person he aims to put in demise was the very man who nearly busted his ears the other day.

“Spirits, guide me. Help me lead this man to his misfortune.” He whispered to the doll. After, he burnt some dried laurel leaves—activating the spell he had created. Supposedly, the doll was meant to glow with the same aura of the person he was cursing. However, the doll exploded in front of his face instead. “Crap!” 

Yani rushed to take the garden hose and spray all over the burning makeshift voodoo doll. “I knew it wouldn’t work!” He sat down on the grass with a groan. “It usually works when I have a piece of their DNA. Like hair or something.” 

Pouting, he held the damp yet charred doll up and opened its middle section to take a piece of paper from inside. It was what you may define as a horrendous drawing that does not justify how Kris looks like at all. “I just hope I don’t see that weirdo again…”

A pause.

Yani began to recall the sequence of events a few days ago. The pretty boy’s strength, the chanting, and the power he displayed while using the bamboo. “What was that? Is he a mangkukulam too?” He sighed and stood up—shaking off the dirt from the back of his charcoal gray pants. “Screw his face! He should just mind his own business!” Yani threw the doll on the ground and began stomping on it like a petulant child.

“Yani! Shut up and go to school already!” Yani turned his head to the porch, and spotted his mom, Christine. She was young, only around her mid-forties. Surprisingly, she wasn’t like Yani at all. With her hands held at the side of her hips, she looked like a typical doting mother wearing a sun dress. It is needless to say that she has no interest in Yani’s occultish hobbies whatsoever. Yani chuckled embarrassedly—scratching the back of his messy hair before running to an old rustic shed. Inside it, he took a black backpack that was sitting on top of a messy desk surrounded by dried leaves and old newspapers, then went back out. 

“I swear, you need to stop doing creepy things and make real friends already! Those voodoo dolls won’t talk with you.” Christine shook her head and combed back her long straight hair. Despite her frustration, she was concerned about her own son’s social life. “You remind me of your grandmother so much.” She added.

Yani sheepishly giggled and waved goodbye to his mom. “Consider this as my way of honoring her, mama!”

She sighed in defeat. “Whatever you say. Just study hard, ok?”

“Ok, love you!”

“Love you too.”

7:00AM

The halls of San Beda University always gave Yani an off-putting feeling. As a massive fan of the occult and gothic things, he found himself three years ago, planning which university he ought to study in. And his basis? It would be to attend a campus with the most mystery relating to ghosts. Also, plus points to SBU for having a neo-gothic architecture with its high pointed arches, primarily beige and white palette, and random statues and displays that gave off an eerie feeling.

Yani strode through the empty pathway—some lights not even open since only a few classes were held this early. While his steps echoed through the dimness of the place, he couldn’t help but feel anxious from what may lurk around the corners. GHOSTS? SO EXCITING! But of course, urban legends remain as legends. It’s already the second semester of his freshman year, but not once has he ever been faced with the so-called ghosts of the campus. It was underwhelming, really. For a university that has an actual cemetery of monks inside, he never felt a dark energy within the establishment. Well, that’s probably because of the Benedictine medal. They say that Catholic exorcists used it back in the day. Also, every single room here has a portrait of the medal.

Yani, despite being a mangkukulam, had a Catholic upbringing. Sometimes, he even finds himself confused on the things to believe in. But, he didn’t let his confusing dynamic bother him too much. One thing’s for sure, mangkukulam or a Catholic, Yani is down to engage in mysteries. 

Today, Yani wore yet another gothic fit. As gothic as he could be while abiding the uniform policy of the university. In other words, his Bedan uniform under a black hoodie with graphics, chained necklace with a cross on it, and a punk studded silver belt. Despite being an extrovert and outgoing person, he somehow manages to never get any friends. The reason? Simple. He creeps them out. Nevertheless, now that he spotted one room with open lights, he was ready to start another semester being authentically himself. 

“Fighting!” He stepped in the lit classroom. Let’s have a great semester!

But when he entered, he found himself not alone. There were a handful of students already sitting down. And the one sitting on the front row felt awfully familiar. 

A pause.

“You.” The student spoke in a hostile tone.

Then, it clicked. “You!” Yani pointed at him in shock.

First period, Psychological Statistics. Yani sat at the front row, but on opposite ends with Kris. Kris was glaring at him from a distance.

Second period, Purposive Communication. Yani sat in the second row. Kris used the reflection from the classroom television to glare at him indirectly.

At lunch, Yani ate outside of the campus. He was free from Kris’s glares.

Last period, Theology. Yani sat at the very back of the class to avoid being glared at. Kris sat right beside him to glare at him very closely.

Throughout the entire day, not a single word was uttered between the two of them. However, deep inside Yani’s mind, he was either praying for his safety or giving a checkmark to all of the curse words within his vocabulary.

Right now, they just finished the opening prayer, and the facilitator was checking on the class’s presence. “Baylan, Kris?”

Kris raised his hand and flatly stated, “I’m present.”

Yani tried his best to keep a straight face while waiting for his name to be called for the attendance. And soon enough, his name was mentioned.

“Espiritu, Yani J.?” The professor called.

“Present po!” He raised his hand.

The day was pretty much uneventful because the classes only consisted of introduction and guidelines. Yani was so ready to get on his feet and dash his way home in hopes of avoiding his new classmate. And when the class was dismissed, in not more than three seconds, Yani got up and speed walked out of the campus.

“Phew!” Yani exhaled, panting when he reached the tiny alley across Mendiola street, right beside the Centro Escolar University. “I thought I was a goner.” He chuckled to himself. 

And suddenly, he felt a breath right on his nape. “You thought?” A voice whispered. And of course, it had to be his dear classmate.

Yani almost jumped from shock, “O-Oh! Hey there.” He nervously exclaimed while slowly stepping back. “Kris, right? Well, it was nice meeting you. Not wearing a skirt today?” He joked around, trying to make light of the situation. The latter did seem like a normal college student wearing his white polo and a grey vest uniform on top of it.

Kris’s eyebrows furrowed from the remark. Then, he started pulling out a short bamboo stick from his brown and leather satchel bag. “Let’s make this quick. Conducting bugaw.”

Yani’s eyes widened from the bamboo he was unfortunately accustomed to. Oh, weird bamboo stick. We have a past, you and I. But I’m sorry that we must part ways. PLEASE!

“Direct to the point, I see?” 

“This would be painless. Well, after you forget about it.” Kris slammed the stick on the wall beside him, and Yani felt an ache crossing from his left to right ear.

“Seriously? You have no care for your classmate?!” Yani strutted forward, pacing to the ends of the alley.

“I’ll take good care of you, don’t worry. Just let me finish this first!” Kris began chasing after him.

Yani’s limbs were longer than the latter, and thankfully at that. He began navigating his way around the compound. Mid run, he started to scour his bag for some spells that may help him escape the wrath of Kris. He spotted a couple of tiny potion bottles that he was supposed to sell in his Quiapo shop later that night. Gayuma… gayuma… good luck… herpes… Wait, herpes? Why did I even make that again? Whatever, none of these are helping! He grunted and simply ran faster.

Kris was right on his tail—panting from the heat brought by the afternoon sun. This is not working. He paused from his steps, and it made Yani look back for a short second. He thought, Yes! He quit! Go suck as- But then, Kris pulled out a pouch. It was filled with ash, blessed by the spirits. “Go to sleep.” He muttered, and threw the powder to the wind that was already heading for Yani’s direction in his stead.

Yani, who knew nothing of what the powder was for, mistakenly inhaled it. His long struts began shortening, and his breath slowed down. And before he knew it, he fell asleep and lost the chase.