Engagements of the Rule (Hong Kong) As the stitches began to take root in my scalp, I slept. I fell asleep wearing the same bloody clothes I had when I was assaulted and went to the Emergency Room in. And I dreamed. I was flying through blue sky and clouds. Then suddenly I was back in New Orleans – or a place in my mind that was a mix of New Orleans with a little of downtown Makati. I was walking through the streets and the people were in panic. They were racing down sidewalks and thrashing through stuck traffic – one man pushed me down and I felt my head pang. But I quickly got up. And suddenly the storefronts that reminded me of downtown Makati – changed to little wooden and brick houses side by side like on the outskirts of downtown New Orleans. I started going door to door – knocking and asking if they could hide me. Help me. Some doors opened. Some doors didn’t. But regardless the answer was the same: no. And not knowing what the panic was – I was suddenly very afraid. Scared. Like when I was five and I would cry out to my parents – swearing there was an invisible monster under my bed. And the fear was not the monster – but the fear of being alone to face it. And I kept knocking on doors – pleading, “Let me in! It’s coming! I need a place to hide!” But still not sure what ‘it’ was. And then finally I turned a corner and I heard people say, “Don’t go there. I would rather die than ask them to help me.” Looking down the street, it was a mix of Bourgeois Street and the Red Light District in Amsterdam. I left the people that were searching for a place to hide and knocked on the first door.
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