SOMETHING died.

None of this stuff is made up, though I really don't want it to sound so preachy. It's shit like I call a lot of things, but not bullshit.

This morning I lied to my mother that I was going to my college early to pick up some papers I need to get the scholarship letter sent in. In fact I actually ended up going to my old school campus. I could feel myself shaking a bit in the taxi, but apart from that I didn't seem to show any fear.

I gave my ID and the guards let me in after the standard "purpose" procedure. They even asked if they could pass my ID on to the gate on the other side so I could exit out there later on. Fine by me. I went in and strolled through the parking lot to the High School section, and looked at the plazas as I went in. Then I went upstairs, and there was a little plastic plaque-ad-thingy that displayed the school's mission statement (and all its irony) next to what appeared to be a very badly-composed painting of three kids, one of them pointing and laughing at the viewer.

Then I went to the cafeteria, kinda my "Ground Zero" of sorts. Unfortunately, it was under renovation so I couldn't go all the way in. Turned around and made my way to the guidance office. It turns out my old guidance counselor was still around, and the walls of her room were still plastered with the memoirs of students past.

I wrote an apology note to her. I think there was an IT guy from long ago still there too, but he didn't seem to recognize me. Finally, I found the yearbook of the year I got kicked out.

Disturbingly enough, my yearbook photo there, in its respective square in its respective alphabetical place on the grid among the Juniors. God damn I had so much hair back then. But I had to know. So I turned the pages again toward the graduating seniors section (you know, the one with all the dedications etc), and sure enough I found the entry for the guy who beat me up. There was a strange twist though that hit me after I sobbed a bit:

Save for his yearbook photo and e-mail address (which I presume were also taken in January), his page was completely BLANK.

Seriously. There were no "wishes for friends," and no "baby photo" as there was on other pages. There was his nickname in faded grey under his actual name...but that was it. 3/4 a page of white space.

It took me a while to figure out exactly why. If he did graduate with honor(s?) then he'd have the usual page with dedications etc. But pretty much every page had SOMETHING. I think they also all had baby photos. If he had been suspended or placed in detention, I'd assume that he'd still graduated anyway. Finally, there was still the possibility that he'd been held back a year...but that wouldn't happen under the punishments for an incident like that.

After I left I visited the old library, which was still open. The book scanners still click three times as I walk through. Found the old 741.5 sections...still remember that old Dewey number from where I'd always go to find the comics. The old Tintin adventures didn't seem to be around though as well as most of the Calvin & Hobbes (shame.), but there were still lots of Peanuts and hardbound (wth?) manga in the High School section. They actually had a graphic novel version of the Hobbit though.

But it's kinda funny, really. It took me 4 years of dead ends to finally work up the courage to go figure out that justice - in some strange way - had indeed been served. And yet I wasn't outwardly jubilant, nor did I actually break down (see earlier sobbing) as intensely as I thought it would be. I was actually pretty calm as I'd been for the past few days.

The library was darkened because only the counter staff were working to catalogue things, but there's this huge window that makes up one side of the place so the sun was just pouring in through the clouds. On my way out I went to one of the railings at the south perimeter of the building so I could see some planes land. Damn, I missed that view. Finally I went to one of those plaza gardens and sat on one of the benches for a bit.

The guards at the other gate let me out without a hitch, and I didn't look back. I might have gotten a bit of the building into view as I looked up the road for a passing taxi.

It's disappointing that I couldn't get my camera the night before (went to Greenhills AFTER, so I got it then), so I don't have any pictures here.

I'm not going through some Scrooge-post-ghost revelation right now. Hell, I probably won't become a social magnet by the time I (eventually) leave the country. I just feel a lot clearer, that's all. And yes, I'm still alive, though I'll definitely need rest as I'm still working to 7 today, lawl.

I kept imagining that Jay-R billboard telling me "You da man!" though.