I knew I had to rest. But I made up my mind to finish my paper for tomorrow's deadline. Besides, it's the big break I've been waiting for. My first article as an official contributor to the biggest newspaper would have been out that weekend.
Then the shaking began again. That time, it became more intense every second. I tried not to move, still figuring out what was happening. My heartbeats pounded my chest as fear crept into my mind. Instinctively, I ducked underneath the table in front of me.
I thought of my family, hoping and praying hard they'll be safe. I thought of my younger siblings in their school. I didn't notice I was crying, I couldn't tell anymore if it was from fear or concern for my loved ones. All I know is that I wanted the earthquake to stop.
It all happened too quick, yet it seemed too long to endure. My office was a mess, almost everything was broken and debris were piled on top of the other. I didn't care. I was safe, that's what matters.
As I stepped outside, I realized the terror has just began. The events that follow suit will be marked in our history as one of the worst natural disasters in Asia.
Moments ago, I was writing. Now, I'm praying, really really hard. And running to save some.
Tonight, our prayers go to all the people who have been devastated by the recent earthquake in China. This post is a tribute to the brave men and women who are unselfishly extending their help.