Be cautious in taking a cab, anywhere.
Pinas, how are you gona deal with this?
January 13, 2009
Superklasse Wednesday
After four months of not going to a club (LITERALLY), I finally did to show some support for one of my best friends, Mel and to see friends who I haven’t seen for the longest longest longest time. It was the first time I’ve ever set foot in Encore (to think I used to go to Embassy every week). It felt surreal to be out and without my boyfriend, LJ, who couldn’t come due to an early class the following day.
I only had 4 drinks: 3 Amaretto Sours and a Mai Tai. It felt good seeing a lot of my friends. We took so many pictures that my fully charged camera went low bat. Anyway, Mel and I decided to leave Encore by 2:30 A.M. Our friends stayed behind since the club closes at 3 A.M. Mel and I were taking separate cabs since she goes home to Mandaluyong and I to Makati. I WAS COMPLETELY SOBER. Not even a bit tipsy.
I remember telling her as we were leaving the club “It’s my first time going home in a cab alone from this club.” Mel was a bit concerned, even offering me to stay over her place for the night.. I told her not to worry, I ALWAYS get home safely.
So we went to get our cabs and I made sure Mel got into her cab first. Then I was looking for a cab who wouldn’t fix the price (you know how it is at The Fort) and there was one who volunteered that he’d use the meter. So I took his offer. I distinctly remember most of the waiting cabs were DAVIS cabs. Mine was not. And I was so damn stupid not to get his taxi’s name and plate number.
In the middle of the ride, I started changing into regular shorts and top. The driver wasn’t looking though but suddenly his hand reached for behind and I was surprised. He was saying, “MAY NAHULOG. Wallet mo ata.” I found a 50 peso bill on the floor. Then he said, “Ang dami mo sigurong pera. Mayaman ka noh?” I didn’t answer. I started getting nervous. I started looking for the cab’s number (which is usually written on the side of the doors). There were faint markings but it couldn’t be understood. The driver noticed my agitation and said, “Anong hinahanap mo? Plate number? Bigay ko sayo.” I was like, “Never mind.” I did NOT want him to know I was getting nervous already. Plus we were so near my house. I thought, what could go wrong?
But something did. Three streets away from my house, the cab driver “hit” a pothole or hump or whatever. He pulled over to the side and said, “Tangina, pano na yan? Na-lock yung steering wheel. Hindi ko maikot.” I was just looking at him, confused. I have no knowledge of cars so I do not know if he was bluffing or not. The meter was 75. I gave him a hundred. He had no change daw so I was like, “Fine, whatever. There’s nothing I can do about it.” I stepped out of the cab, in the middle of Bautista Street, a long street but near my house. It was almost 3 A.M. When I looked back, the cab was gone.
HOW IN THE WORLD WAS HE ABLE TO DRIVE AWAY IF HIS STEERING WHEEL WAS “LOCKED”?
I called my boyfriend up AND THANK GOD HE ANSWERED HIS PHONE. He was sleeping already, good thing the call woke him up. I was trying to remain calm. I told him my dilemma. Suddenly an empty cab drove by. A DIFFERENT ONE. I hailed it. I had probably less than half a kilometer to my house which was three streets away. The cab took me in and I ended the call.
Two more lefts, it was my house already. It was Camalig Street, then Bigasan Street. Suddenly the driver went left, the street just right before my house, Camalig. I said very politely, “Kuya, MALI. Atras ka, atras ka. Sa kabilang street pa. One more left.” The driver just kept driving like he didn’t hear. I said it again. Then he stopped and looked at me. Then he said, “Bayaran mo na.” I was weirded out. I was like, “Why? This is not even my house. It’s on the next street.” Besides, we haven’t traveled far. The meter was still at 30 pesos.
SUDDENLY, without warning, the driver grabbed my neck and jumped to the back. My first thought was, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!?”. But his grip was getting tighter and tighter. I literally couldn’t breathe and felt my consciousness slipping. As we were struggling, I kept scratching at his eyes and reaching for the lock of the left door. He was on top of me hitting my head repeatedly while his other hand around my neck. I was choking and choking when I realized the left side HAD NO FUCKING LOCK, which means I couldn’t get out. Which means I had to try my luck on the right side. Imagine my struggle to get to the other side as a full grown, heavyset man kept bashing my head, scratching my face, pulling my hair and hitting me. I kept scratching his eyes. It was all I could do. When his grip loosened a bit, I managed to open the right door with so much effort. Unfortunately he pulled me back with my hair. Imagine MY TERROR as the door closed again!!!!! I couldn’t scream anymore. Besides, who would hear me I was inside a fucking car. My neck was so sore and I was close to fainting. I kept scratching his eyes and reaching for the door until by some miracle, I opened it fully and screamed with what was remaining of my voice.
The driver said something like, “Tangina, it’s not worth it.” And literally kicked me out of the car. I rolled out onto the street with my shoulder bag which was slung around me the whole time with its remaining contents. The driver suddenly sped away. Till now, I don’t know his motive, whether it be rape or hold up. Or both. Or murder.
So there I was in the middle of the street, barefoot. Then I realized why the hell am I so wet?! I realized I was sitting in a pool of my own blood. There was so much blood dripping from the right side of my head, it was like a half-closed faucet if you get what I mean. I started screaming for help.
This time the apartment I was right in front of lights’ went on. Imagine the horror on these people’s faces as I literally crawled towards them bloodied and barefoot. When I reached out to them for help, I saw my arm. It was covered in blood. And I could feel that I was losing so much more. I asked for a cellphone. I still had the consciousness to call my boyfriend. The people who took me in were nice enough to let me call. They talked to LJ and informed him of what happened. They even cleaned me up. Suddenly there was the barangay people and witnesses. That’s when everything became hazy. The barangay people said that they had to take me to the hospital because I was losing so much blood.
I was taken to Makati Medical Center ER. I still remember as I was being loaded onto the wheelchair the horrified looks of the people outside the hospital. I even had a high school batchmate who was assigned as my nurse, Erika Bautista (THANK YOU SO MUCH). In her own words she said that when I came in I looked like I was already in critical condition. I am not exaggerating when I say this: I WAS LITERALLY COVERED IN BLOOD. Head to foot.
Everything was in a daze after that. All I remember was the blood. Under my nails, on my face, on my hair, on my neck, my chest, my legs, my toes. Even my armpits had blood. Truly, I have never seen so much in my whole life. My face started bruising up so much I could see my right cheek even if I look straight ahead. I also had so much hair falling out because the guy kept on pulling it. But what bothered me was the blood that kept dripping continuously from the right side of my head… and the pain. The doctor said the cut was so deep it LOOKS LIKE I WAS STABBED. It was really bad. I wouldn’t stop crying. I hate the sight of blood and here I am, a walking bloody blob. My first medical gown was drenched in blood. So they had to change it. I changed my medical gown four times before I was discharged. That’s how bad the bleeding was.
When LJ arrived the hospital, I forced myself to be cheerful. I smiled and said “HAPPY MONTHSARY!” It was our 2nd monthsary. Geez what a way to spend it. Till now this hurts me, thinking how ironic the situation is. He said the wounds on my head were like the claw marks in the Jurassic Park movie logo. B, no words can express what I feel towards the situation and how grateful I am that you were there. Basta alam mo na yun.
Anyway, after a few hours, I got a CT scan to detect hemorrhages and X-Rays. Good thing it all came out negative. But I had so many wounds and lacerations on my head. They had to STITCH THE RIGHT SIDE OF MY TEMPLE AND ANOTHER ONE AT THE BACK OF MY HEAD. But there are still minor wounds all over my head, even the inside of my ear has blood till now. Till now my hair is all stiff and sticky from the blood. They shampooed my hair in the hospital but a lot of it still haven’t come out. (I woke up today with dried blood on my pillow).
The first time I saw a mirror, I could not believe my eyes. I thought it was just dirt and dried blood but then I realized I had a giant bruise on my right cheek and deep scratches on my face. I got a Wet One but it just won’t come off. I had to face it, my face was really fucked up. My neck had strangle marks, my jaw was swollen, I had two semi-black eyes, my cheeks were patches of black and blue and the abrasions and cuts were deep on my face. I look like the Bride of Chuckie.
After they sutured me, I became delirious for sometime. Not knowing what I was saying to LJ but he said I was acting strange and started rambling about random things that I don’t remember.
The police came and they got the license plate of the cab DAW from the witnesses but they weren’t sure if it’s accurate. We’re still planning an investigation. I lost my school ID, cellphone, cash and camera. The only things that I salvaged from the incident were my shoes, a brush and a dress. They were covered in blood as well. Now, the question is, are the first and second cab incidents related? Is it a Modus Operandi?
Anyway, I’m out of the hospital now. My body is aching all over and my face looks like Pacquiao practiced on it.
The reason why I am writing this note is TO WARN EACH AND EVERYONE OF YOU PEOPLE TO BE CAREFUL. I never ever thought such a thing could happen to me. I thought it only happens in the movies. Imagine, I was just a street away from my home and THIS HAPPENED. A STREET AWAY. Thank God I wasn’t drunk, Thank God the guy did not have weapons (I think), Thank God some kind souls helped me. Thank God I had the presence of mind not to remove his hands from my neck but to scratch his eyes out and reach for the lock. Some girls initial defense would be to un-strangle themselves but I didn’t. I let him strangle me. My main objective was to get the damn door open and escape.
The doctor told my boyfriend I was lucky to be alive, before leaving the hospital. As I was struggling inside the taxi, I did not see the whole “your life flashes before you when you’re dying” thingy.
NO. That’s why I fought against him as much as I could. I told myself over and over again, “NOT TODAY… NOT TODAY… This isn’t how I should die. I’m too good for this.”
I SAW the reason why I should keep on living. That’s why I’m still here today.
PXG 725 or PSG 725
White Taxi
