THE dawn always looks best when the sun is about to submerge. The coming of silence and thoughtful tranquility comes by as people start to head back to their homes under the blackened sky. The night is a call to sleep; a state of rest unbothered by worries. This is not the case in other places and I have learned that the hard way. I still remember that walk. The street was empty with the exemption of a few passing tricycles. A view came to my peripheral vision and I noticed two men behind me, so close that they could have easily unzipped my backpack if they wanted to. I walked toward another direction and quickened my pace, but it only encouraged them to move faster. Fear then overtook my body as I ran as fast as I could without ever looking back.
Now, an alarm rings in the depths of my mind, and it reminds me to be vigilant. Nobody can tell what dangers lurk in every empty street, in unlit areas, and in the uncrowded footbridges when one walks home alone. The alarm hushes when I am accompanied home by a friend or a relative during my travels. As I quietly trudge in the dark, simply a lit streetlamp feels like a blessing against unforeseeable dangers. Will this always be the case? F ISABELL ANDREA M. PINE
