I switched off the lights, letting the moonlight inside through the blinds, and was enough to light up the whole room. I just finished taking a half bath and already blow-dried my hair. I ate three times today like how much I usually eat these past days. Everything seems just fine but why do I feel so down?
Why do I feel like something is... off? Something is... missing?
After what happened last week, I've been thinking about him and I can't help but question everything.
Why? Why does it have to happen? Why now? I did my very best to at least fill his absence. I did my very best to at least make them happy with my achievements. But sadly, they weren't enough.
I laughed. Nothing is enough.
I sighed and turned, looking at the ceiling. They say that if you are passionate about what you are doing right now, you're doing great. Then does that mean that being contented and happy isn't enough? Oh, so that is why...
But is it really true that you're happy and contented?
"Am I...?"
I am not.
Because if I'm really happy and contented with it, I wouldn't have to take Mom seriously with her endless nagging because I don't want to lose the happiness I have created for such a long time. I wouldn't have to leave. I wouldn't have left him.
If only I wasn't born to be in that family, surrounded by the people with their wide-awakened eyes, who easily judge you for one mistake. If only they know how hard it is to be in that family with the suffocating lifestyle, they wouldn't have wished to be in my life. If only I was doing what makes me happy, maybe—just maybe—I can handle all of that. But I wasn't. I'm not happy. I wasn't brave enough like him to handle everything. And if only he didn't leave me behind, I wouldn't have to carry those baggages. Pressure, the endless and unreachable expectations, responsibilities, and my families' and my own reputation.
I wouldn't have to pretend like everything's fine with my family—if it was to call a real family.
The sound of silence and the cold night breeze passing through the blinds calmed me and pushed my eyelids to close.
I was surrounded by eight chairs. It was arranged in the shape of a circle, as if not letting me go out from the unknown place where I am. I tried to narrow my eyes to see what was in the outside of the room through the open door but it was too dark and blurry. I extended my hand, but do not know what I'm trying to hold on to.
Until I heard something...
"Beverly! I said you should try your best! You have to be on top! You need to!"
It was her. My mother, who stabbed me countless times in exchange for their image and reputation. It's more important to them than me, their very own daughter.
I covered my face and felt the overflowing tears, coming from my eyes.
"They betrayed you..."
I looked around to find who that was but I can't. My surroundings were too dark and I was as if on a stage and the spotlight was all on me.
I looked down and kneeled on the ground, covering my mouth, stopping myself to hysterically cry.
"Beverly!" I heard her again so I looked up. She was in front of me, holding a... knife!
"Mom, w-what are you... d-doing...?" I stumble when I stood up and stepped back in fear. I felt my sweat going down on the side of my face. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was pointing the knife at me, seemingly wanting so bad to kill me.
I was catching my breath when I felt the chair behind me, having nothing to step back on. I don't have a choice but to sit at the chair. "Ah!" I screamed and closed my eyes, covering my head when she was about to stab me.
But it already took ten seconds, I didn't feel anything. When I opened my eyes and lowered down, I saw our dining table.
"Beverly!" Mom snapped me out and sat down in front of me. "I said, recite!"
My eyebrows frowned. "Y-Yes..." I then recited the script that I was going to play in a theatre with my stomach, screaming for food.
I was about to stand up after the long recitation but I can't move a bit. I feel like I was paralyzed.
"You're lacking emotions! Do it again!"
Unknowingly, my tears started to come out and I can't wipe them with my hands because I still can't move my body.
My vision started to blurry and I can't breathe properly. Until everything went black.
I rose and sat on the bed, catching my breath. I was also sweaty despite the cold night breeze coming from the outside. I pulled my blanket up and hugged. Tears slowly flow down.
Why is this all coming back? Brother... Please come back and save me... I can't handle all of this anymore...
Please tell me you're alive... I will find you... Please... Tell me that it was you that I saw...
"You said that you'll always gonna be on my side... How come you're not here...? Please come back now..." I whispered to myself.
It was a matter of time and I knew I have to forget all those nonsense thoughts. I have to have fun.
I slowly stood up and changed my clothes. I just chose what I think is appropriate yet comfortable so I won't have a problem with it later.
In a blink of an eye, I found myself, sitting on the counter. I ordered some alcohol I know and drank them until I got tipsy.
I stood up and went to the dance floor. I danced with the strangers but suddenly got my senses back when someone squeezed his body against mine, too roughly. "What the hell?!" I confronted him but he only gave me a smirk.
Irritatedly, I went back to the counter. I didn't order anymore and surprisingly, someone approached me. "Hi." His eyes were a little bit sleepy or that was just what I thought because of his chinito eyes. His hair was in a clean cut that suited his dark features. Though he seems nice based on his clothes which looked decent as he is, I think? Unlike other men who wear clothes, revealing some of their skins that looked too sensual.
He held out his hand so I took it and shook softly. "Hi." As soon as our hands were apart, his lips curved and I could feel sudden electricity travel down to my spine.
"Can I sit here?" He looked at the chair beside me.
"Yeah, sure."
We talked a bit until I felt his hand on my shoulder, much closer to my neck. Then, I slowly put it away and looked intensely at him. "If you're thinking if you can bed me or something, think wiser. Excuse me."
But he held my wrist that stopped me from walking out. I glared at his hand before turning it straight to his eyes. He immediately raised his hands, as if surrendering to the police.
"It's just a friendly touch, okay? I didn't mean to harass you. I'm sorry."
But my gaze at him didn't change. "Friendly touch?" I scoffed. "Anyone can't touch like that to someone with only a friendly one."
Instead of being shy nor ashamed, the side of his lips rose which I confuse about. "Do you want me to be your boyfriend, then? So it won't be a friendly one anymore."
I then realized that my phrases weren't constructed properly which led to his misunderstanding. But his face was so irritating that I feel like my blood went up to my head, boiling in irritation. My hand moved fast and slapped him.
It was too loud and heavy that it took the attention of the people near us. I grimaced when I felt the sudden numbness of my palm. I quickly ignored everyone and looked down so they won't recognize me. I ran as fast as I can, even with my feet aching.