Forever: Beating As One
PREVIOUS:
||[ A Meaningful Beginning]
[ All There Is To Wish]
[ Light At The End of The Tunnel]
[ The Day That Ends It All]
[ A Smile So Wide]
[ When You Thought It Was Over]
[ Maybe It's Not Worth It]
[ Where You Are, There I Will Be]
[ Backstabbed Friend and Bruised Saviour]||
It has been a very looooong while since the last time I even touched this story. just so you know, it is actually already done but I might post it tomorrow or something, not all at once. I don't know if anybody still reads this but I don't really care.
Well, enjoy!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
~X~
‘Hey, can you call my cell now? I think I lost it.’
At the mention of your request, everyone in the room seemed to sneer at me and their faces seemed to say ‘oh, it’s your husband calling.’
‘I thought you said you don’t bring your cell to school,’ I teased.
‘Would you just call?’
I smiled a little and searched for my cell in my sling-back. My hand kept on going round and round and my face turned a bit pale from fear of losing my own cell. Thankfully, my hand finally brushed up against the sturdy figure of my cell. I took it out and started looking for your number in my phonebook.
‘You owe me for this,’ I threatened.
A ring was echoing throughout the room. Everyone could hear it. You emptied your bag with all the crap put inside it. I held my cell like a bored person, sighing a bit.
‘I think I can hear your cell from here,’ I said.
‘I know, where is it?’ you said, still searching for it.
I could see from the other part of the class that your bag was definitely full of junk you don’t even have to bring to school. Or maybe you have to but you could at least fold them nicely so that you know where everything was. Oh, brother, I silently whined.
Then you pulled out something that is kind of long and it made a sound. It was your cell phone. I quickly clicked the ‘disconnect’ button.
‘There it is,’ you said, relieved. ‘Thanks.’
‘You owe me,’ I said, grudgingly.
‘Isn’t my friendship enough?’ you teased-or at least I think you did.
I didn’t say anything but I just smiled. Then you went out of the classroom, to the bright sunny day, going straight home.
That was when I realized that, instead of anyone else, you asked me help you search for your cell phone.
Don’t look far away. Listen to your heart. Carefully.
I am running while these thoughts run through my mind. What did she mean by listen to my heart? How is my heart supposed to know where her heart might be? And why do I need to listen to it carefully? It doesn’t make sense at all.
‘So have you figured out where it is yet?’ the man who’s with me asks.
‘Like hell I have,’ I retort. ‘How am I supposed to know where it is?’
He shrugs. ‘Hey, don’t look at me! It’s your girlfriend’s idea.’
I rub my eyes, still running. ‘Look, that woman said something about not looking for it far away, about listening to my heart, carefully. What does that mean? Why am I supposed to listen to my heart?’
He snorts. ‘Isn’t that what one of those wise people in movies do: tell you to listen to your heart even though there’s nothing there?’
‘Yeah, I don’t think this one is like that. I mean, why carefully?’
The man almost shrugs when suddenly he stops dead in his tracks, grabbing my arm and forcing me to stop at the same time. ‘Wait, maybe you should really listen.’
I stop. I try to listen. But there is nothing there.
‘Don’t screw with me. There’s nothing there,’ I complain.
‘No, listen! Really listen!’
I sigh. Since he demands on it, I try once again to listen. I close my eyes this time, hoping it will help me concentrate somehow.
Th-Thump.
What was that? A simple heartbeat right?
Th-Th-Thump.
Wait, isn’t it a bit unusual?
I open my eyes then I turn my gaze at the man.
‘How come there are two heartbeats?’
There is warmth deep in his chest when the boy touches it. He feels something beating inside. Two hearts are beating almost as one. How come he never knew about this? Has he never felt it before? The heart of his dear friend beating inside his own chest. He can feel the warmth of both the heart. How is this possible? He asks himself. How come her heart moved into my chest?
‘What am I supposed to do now?’ he asks the man beside him.
‘I guess we need to give it to her somehow,’ he answers, doubtful.
‘How are we gonna do that? The heart is within my chest.’
‘I know that, I never said I know how to get it.’
The boy ponders on this. That woman must know. But there is no time to go back and get her. Besides, he isn’t sure if she’s still safe anyway. What if she’s already dead because of his friend? He sits down on a tree trunk, his right foot tapping the ground in irritation. Now what?
The rustles of the trees around them set both of them alert. At first, they were sure it was only the wind. But suddenly the rustles seem to be growing more and more significant, louder. The boy stands up, ready for whatever it is behind the trees and bushes. Something is definitely there.
‘Show yourself!’ he orders, reaching for his gun.
The rustles continue, louder and louder, closer and closer. The boy pulls out his gun when he sees a white-dressed girl standing between the bushes. She looks at the boy blankly. He sighs, relieved. For once, she doesn’t intend to attack him.
‘What are you doing here? How’s your arm?’
At the sight of his calm friend, the boy has forgotten the fact that this very girl has tried to kill him several times. His face softens at the sight of the girl.
‘Don’t you point that gun at me,’ the girl retorts, irritated by the boy’s gun.
The boy lowers his gun. My friend is back!
But apparently the man in cashmere doesn’t feel the same way. He steps between the boy and the girl, his hand protecting the boy. His face looks sharply at the girl.
The boy is displeased. ‘What are you doing?’ he complains.
‘Something doesn’t feel right,’ the man suspects.
‘What are you talking about? Everything’s fine. I mean, have you not seen her yet? She looks less morbid than before.’
‘Exactly.’
The boy falls silent. Now doubts have seeped into his mind. Can it be? Can something really be terribly wrong when it feels incredibly right? His friend is standing there for crying out loud. She’s standing there with no desire to attack. What is wrong? What can possibly be wrong about this?
‘Something’s wrong?’ the girl asks, her face shows pure innocence.
‘No, nothing’s wrong,’ the boy says, shoving the man away.
‘What’s the matter then?’ the girl asks.
‘What-what do you mean?’
‘How come you’re keeping distance from me?’
The boy has not noticed this until the girl points it out to him. When she first appears, he has mistaken him with something more dangerous, yet he still pointed his gun at her. Even though she has made him feel better and made him think his friend has come back, he still wouldn’t approach her and do think things they usually do like normal friends. Could it be? Could it be that his body realizes everything his has missed? Could it be that something is definitely wrong?
‘Well, that-that’s because...’
Before the boy can finish, the girl leaps forward. She lunges at the boy, causing him to lose balance and fall to the ground on his back while the girl is right on top of him. He rubs his head as he winces at the pain of falling head first to the ground. When he opens his eyes, he can see his dear friend very clearly. Her eyes seem to radiate sadness. That catches his attention.
‘Because...?’ the girl asks, a tone of concern in her voice.
‘Uhh...because...why did you do that?’ he asks, obviously distracted.
‘You have something that I want.’
Hmm, that’s new. ‘What? My life?’
The girl smiles. ‘Oh, you silly boy, that’s not it.’
The boy notices the girl’s hand is on his chest. He realizes at once what she is trying to do: she wants to pull her heart out of the boy’s chest. At the sudden realization, the boy gets up, sending the girl flying away from him. He moves away from the girl, bringing his hand closer to his chest, protecting it.
‘Why in the world did you do that?’ the girl asks, smiling sweetly.
‘You’re trying to pull my heart out!’ the boy shouts, angry.
‘She’s what?’ the man in cashmere-who has been standing there-asks.
‘You were right, there is something wrong.’
‘You’re welcome,’ the man says, smugly.
‘Oh, I’m just trying to get back what is originally mind,’ the girl reasons.
The boy freezes. That is, however, true. And that is what he intended to do anyway. But can it be the only way? Can there not be any other way? He shakes his head vigorously, refusing to believe such fact.
There must be another way.
♠♥♦♣
I have to get there fast, the bruised woman says to herself.
Despite the fact that she has been bruised badly by the same girl over and over again, she still manages to conjure up all the will to go and rescue her and her dear friend.
There is something I must make sure of. I simply cannot fail.
She goes through the wood, as swift as a gazelle. Her legs move as fast as the air all around it. She doesn’t care that the twigs brushing against her cheeks leave marks here and there, drawing up blood. She doesn’t care that the mosquitos keep trying to bite at her beautiful legs. She doesn’t care that she might feel all the pain later, when the situation isn’t half as bad.
There is only one thing on her mind: she has to get there before her collaegues get there or before the boy gets killed by the girl.
We have to be there right now, says the shorter woman inside her head.
Despite the fact that her collaegue has come back with all the bruises on her body-marking her survival-and the fact that she is no longer in control, the shorter woman knows she has to be there when her experiment does what she is created to do: kill her dear friend the boy.
Oh, how sweet it would be to see him lying there, lifeless.
She runs through the wood, her other colleagues-the men who accompanied her loyally-following right behind. She smiles at the sweet scent of revenge in the air. She can almost feel it. Something good is about to happen. Murder is calling her name and blood is begging her to be there.
Oh, I’ll be there, she promises.
There is only one thing she intends to do: she must be there to witness the success of her own creation even if it means taking another’s life.
‘Isn’t there another way to do this?’
At the mention of your question, I looked up at you and grinned. ‘Oh, no, there isn’t another way to do this,’ I said, fully satisfied. I held up my cards and picked one then I put it on the pile of cards in the middle of the tables. You groaned.
The others became noisy: the laughed, they shouted, they cheered, and they sneered. I smirked at you. ‘Now, now, be a good sport and retrieve the twelve cards that you have to take.’
You grumbled while picking up the deck and started counting for twelve cards. I suppose you were muttering curses to the other players-me and all our classmates-or maybe you were muttering curses to the system we created since we didn’t use the rightful system to play UNO. But, hey, you triumphed over me thousands of times before because of this twisted system. You should be grateful.
‘Hey, at least it’s not 16,’ someone said.
Then they all looked at me. Yeah, that record was held firmly by me. And nobody had ever surpassed it. So I just grinned at all of them and turned to you. ‘You see? It’s not that bad. It’s still four cards short from the record.’
‘Yeah, thanks for the support,’ you said sarcastically while pulling out a card and put it on the pile. It was a reverse. In red.
Damn, I thought.
I tried to look composed but my hand crept silently to the deck.
You looked at me and smirked. ‘You don’t have a red, do you?’
I snorted. ‘Of course I…don’t.’
Everyone laughed as I pulled out a red card and put it on the pile while the other countless cards are stacked in my hand. And I almost won too.
Then it was someone else’s turn and I leaned closer to you. ‘I’ll trade you a blue for a red. I know you want it.’
But you snorted. ‘I know we’re friends and all but in UNO, you will always be my enemy.’
I looked away, irritated. Right then I wasn’t thinking about the fact that you said we were enemies on something. I was only thinking about you not wanting to give me a lousy red card for trade. Little did I know that the word ‘enemy’ is like ink: it easily spreads if not used properly.
‘Isn’t there another way to do this?’
The girl turns round in recognition to the question the boy has just asked. How long has it been since the last time he ever asked her such a question? She cannot quite remember but she knows it has been a while. A long while, in fact. She doesn’t say anything to answer his question, thinking he will utter another word. But there he is, standing there, waiting for her to say something.
‘I don’t think so,’ she says with her hand on her chin, as if pondering if there is indeed another way to retrieve her very heart. ‘I’m afraid I will have to pull it out of your chest just as I intended to.’
She is smiling now as if she doesn’t feel the slightest sadness at the thought of doing such a morbid thing.
‘Look, it doesn’t have to be this way,’ the boy reasons.
‘Oh, but it does.’
Above them, the sky is forming grey clouds with the sweep of the wind that blows almost in such a rage. The girl’s hair is flying this way and that, making a big mess of her head. The trees are swaying this way and that, making the leaves chime like little bells. Suddenly, the air is cold.
‘All right,’ the boy finally says. ‘But let me ask you one question.’
‘Shoot,’ the girl insists.
‘All this time, after I killed you, why have you been after me? How come you’ve tried to kill me so many times?’
The girl freezes. Perhaps she has not thought this through.
But then she smiles. ‘Because I hate you.’
The boy looks at her with full astonishment-perhaps it is more like disbelief-at the statement the girl just threw at him. How come I have never known this? Haven’t we always been friends all this time? Is it because I killed her? These thoughts float through the boy’s mind rapidly, making him think harder like he never did before.
‘Is it because I killed you?’
The girl shakes her head.
‘Has it been happening for a long time?’
The girl pauses for a moment but then nods with a smile.
‘Why?’
The girl looks irritated. ‘Do I have to spell it out to you?’
When the boy isn’t responding, the girl sighs. ‘We started out as strangers, like most people do when they first started their relationships-whatever kind it may be. I was curious about you and we became friends. We were so close before. You told me your problems and I told you mine. We talked on the phone with a touch of delight and we pored over the computer with excitement biting our skin. You kept assuring me to let go of my insecurities and I kept telling you to make a move.’
The boy remembers it all. The girl he has once told everything about. He told her he never told anyone any of the personal information he’d told her long ago. That is, however, until he decided to tell everyone else. The information doesn’t seem so personal anymore.
The girl looks down at her feet. ‘But it’s all changed.’
The boy silently nods. It sure has.
‘You became very far away from me and I hardly recognise you anymore. You became every bit a person I refuse to become. You became the person I would usually hate,’ the girl continues.
‘And you do.’
The wind is blowing more gently now, blowing at the girl’s hair, sending it splaying across her face and over her head, making a mess. Beneath the strands of her hair that cover her face, her eyes are looking up at the boy. For a moment, she keeps looking at him, as if waiting for him to see the truth in her eyes. Her eyes move away from the boy when he keeps silent.
‘I don’t.’
‘What?’
But before the boy-wide-eyed in disbelief to what she just said-could find out whether he heard the girl right or not, the girl starts attacking him again. Her moves made more swiftly with the flow of the wind which hits them strong through to their bones. The boy still has his reflexes and-up until now-still manages to defend himself against her strikes.
Back to square one, he notes in irritation.
...To be continued...
NEXT: ||[ What Nobody Knows]||
[ art section]
||[ A Meaningful Beginning]
[ All There Is To Wish]
[ Light At The End of The Tunnel]
[ The Day That Ends It All]
[ A Smile So Wide]
[ When You Thought It Was Over]
[ Maybe It's Not Worth It]
[ Where You Are, There I Will Be]
[ Backstabbed Friend and Bruised Saviour]||
It has been a very looooong while since the last time I even touched this story. just so you know, it is actually already done but I might post it tomorrow or something, not all at once. I don't know if anybody still reads this but I don't really care.
Well, enjoy!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
~X~
‘Hey, can you call my cell now? I think I lost it.’
At the mention of your request, everyone in the room seemed to sneer at me and their faces seemed to say ‘oh, it’s your husband calling.’
‘I thought you said you don’t bring your cell to school,’ I teased.
‘Would you just call?’
I smiled a little and searched for my cell in my sling-back. My hand kept on going round and round and my face turned a bit pale from fear of losing my own cell. Thankfully, my hand finally brushed up against the sturdy figure of my cell. I took it out and started looking for your number in my phonebook.
‘You owe me for this,’ I threatened.
A ring was echoing throughout the room. Everyone could hear it. You emptied your bag with all the crap put inside it. I held my cell like a bored person, sighing a bit.
‘I think I can hear your cell from here,’ I said.
‘I know, where is it?’ you said, still searching for it.
I could see from the other part of the class that your bag was definitely full of junk you don’t even have to bring to school. Or maybe you have to but you could at least fold them nicely so that you know where everything was. Oh, brother, I silently whined.
Then you pulled out something that is kind of long and it made a sound. It was your cell phone. I quickly clicked the ‘disconnect’ button.
‘There it is,’ you said, relieved. ‘Thanks.’
‘You owe me,’ I said, grudgingly.
‘Isn’t my friendship enough?’ you teased-or at least I think you did.
I didn’t say anything but I just smiled. Then you went out of the classroom, to the bright sunny day, going straight home.
That was when I realized that, instead of anyone else, you asked me help you search for your cell phone.
Don’t look far away. Listen to your heart. Carefully.
I am running while these thoughts run through my mind. What did she mean by listen to my heart? How is my heart supposed to know where her heart might be? And why do I need to listen to it carefully? It doesn’t make sense at all.
‘So have you figured out where it is yet?’ the man who’s with me asks.
‘Like hell I have,’ I retort. ‘How am I supposed to know where it is?’
He shrugs. ‘Hey, don’t look at me! It’s your girlfriend’s idea.’
I rub my eyes, still running. ‘Look, that woman said something about not looking for it far away, about listening to my heart, carefully. What does that mean? Why am I supposed to listen to my heart?’
He snorts. ‘Isn’t that what one of those wise people in movies do: tell you to listen to your heart even though there’s nothing there?’
‘Yeah, I don’t think this one is like that. I mean, why carefully?’
The man almost shrugs when suddenly he stops dead in his tracks, grabbing my arm and forcing me to stop at the same time. ‘Wait, maybe you should really listen.’
I stop. I try to listen. But there is nothing there.
‘Don’t screw with me. There’s nothing there,’ I complain.
‘No, listen! Really listen!’
I sigh. Since he demands on it, I try once again to listen. I close my eyes this time, hoping it will help me concentrate somehow.
Th-Thump.
What was that? A simple heartbeat right?
Th-Th-Thump.
Wait, isn’t it a bit unusual?
I open my eyes then I turn my gaze at the man.
‘How come there are two heartbeats?’
There is warmth deep in his chest when the boy touches it. He feels something beating inside. Two hearts are beating almost as one. How come he never knew about this? Has he never felt it before? The heart of his dear friend beating inside his own chest. He can feel the warmth of both the heart. How is this possible? He asks himself. How come her heart moved into my chest?
‘What am I supposed to do now?’ he asks the man beside him.
‘I guess we need to give it to her somehow,’ he answers, doubtful.
‘How are we gonna do that? The heart is within my chest.’
‘I know that, I never said I know how to get it.’
The boy ponders on this. That woman must know. But there is no time to go back and get her. Besides, he isn’t sure if she’s still safe anyway. What if she’s already dead because of his friend? He sits down on a tree trunk, his right foot tapping the ground in irritation. Now what?
The rustles of the trees around them set both of them alert. At first, they were sure it was only the wind. But suddenly the rustles seem to be growing more and more significant, louder. The boy stands up, ready for whatever it is behind the trees and bushes. Something is definitely there.
‘Show yourself!’ he orders, reaching for his gun.
The rustles continue, louder and louder, closer and closer. The boy pulls out his gun when he sees a white-dressed girl standing between the bushes. She looks at the boy blankly. He sighs, relieved. For once, she doesn’t intend to attack him.
‘What are you doing here? How’s your arm?’
At the sight of his calm friend, the boy has forgotten the fact that this very girl has tried to kill him several times. His face softens at the sight of the girl.
‘Don’t you point that gun at me,’ the girl retorts, irritated by the boy’s gun.
The boy lowers his gun. My friend is back!
But apparently the man in cashmere doesn’t feel the same way. He steps between the boy and the girl, his hand protecting the boy. His face looks sharply at the girl.
The boy is displeased. ‘What are you doing?’ he complains.
‘Something doesn’t feel right,’ the man suspects.
‘What are you talking about? Everything’s fine. I mean, have you not seen her yet? She looks less morbid than before.’
‘Exactly.’
The boy falls silent. Now doubts have seeped into his mind. Can it be? Can something really be terribly wrong when it feels incredibly right? His friend is standing there for crying out loud. She’s standing there with no desire to attack. What is wrong? What can possibly be wrong about this?
‘Something’s wrong?’ the girl asks, her face shows pure innocence.
‘No, nothing’s wrong,’ the boy says, shoving the man away.
‘What’s the matter then?’ the girl asks.
‘What-what do you mean?’
‘How come you’re keeping distance from me?’
The boy has not noticed this until the girl points it out to him. When she first appears, he has mistaken him with something more dangerous, yet he still pointed his gun at her. Even though she has made him feel better and made him think his friend has come back, he still wouldn’t approach her and do think things they usually do like normal friends. Could it be? Could it be that his body realizes everything his has missed? Could it be that something is definitely wrong?
‘Well, that-that’s because...’
Before the boy can finish, the girl leaps forward. She lunges at the boy, causing him to lose balance and fall to the ground on his back while the girl is right on top of him. He rubs his head as he winces at the pain of falling head first to the ground. When he opens his eyes, he can see his dear friend very clearly. Her eyes seem to radiate sadness. That catches his attention.
‘Because...?’ the girl asks, a tone of concern in her voice.
‘Uhh...because...why did you do that?’ he asks, obviously distracted.
‘You have something that I want.’
Hmm, that’s new. ‘What? My life?’
The girl smiles. ‘Oh, you silly boy, that’s not it.’
The boy notices the girl’s hand is on his chest. He realizes at once what she is trying to do: she wants to pull her heart out of the boy’s chest. At the sudden realization, the boy gets up, sending the girl flying away from him. He moves away from the girl, bringing his hand closer to his chest, protecting it.
‘Why in the world did you do that?’ the girl asks, smiling sweetly.
‘You’re trying to pull my heart out!’ the boy shouts, angry.
‘She’s what?’ the man in cashmere-who has been standing there-asks.
‘You were right, there is something wrong.’
‘You’re welcome,’ the man says, smugly.
‘Oh, I’m just trying to get back what is originally mind,’ the girl reasons.
The boy freezes. That is, however, true. And that is what he intended to do anyway. But can it be the only way? Can there not be any other way? He shakes his head vigorously, refusing to believe such fact.
There must be another way.
♠♥♦♣
I have to get there fast, the bruised woman says to herself.
Despite the fact that she has been bruised badly by the same girl over and over again, she still manages to conjure up all the will to go and rescue her and her dear friend.
There is something I must make sure of. I simply cannot fail.
She goes through the wood, as swift as a gazelle. Her legs move as fast as the air all around it. She doesn’t care that the twigs brushing against her cheeks leave marks here and there, drawing up blood. She doesn’t care that the mosquitos keep trying to bite at her beautiful legs. She doesn’t care that she might feel all the pain later, when the situation isn’t half as bad.
There is only one thing on her mind: she has to get there before her collaegues get there or before the boy gets killed by the girl.
We have to be there right now, says the shorter woman inside her head.
Despite the fact that her collaegue has come back with all the bruises on her body-marking her survival-and the fact that she is no longer in control, the shorter woman knows she has to be there when her experiment does what she is created to do: kill her dear friend the boy.
Oh, how sweet it would be to see him lying there, lifeless.
She runs through the wood, her other colleagues-the men who accompanied her loyally-following right behind. She smiles at the sweet scent of revenge in the air. She can almost feel it. Something good is about to happen. Murder is calling her name and blood is begging her to be there.
Oh, I’ll be there, she promises.
There is only one thing she intends to do: she must be there to witness the success of her own creation even if it means taking another’s life.
‘Isn’t there another way to do this?’
At the mention of your question, I looked up at you and grinned. ‘Oh, no, there isn’t another way to do this,’ I said, fully satisfied. I held up my cards and picked one then I put it on the pile of cards in the middle of the tables. You groaned.
The others became noisy: the laughed, they shouted, they cheered, and they sneered. I smirked at you. ‘Now, now, be a good sport and retrieve the twelve cards that you have to take.’
You grumbled while picking up the deck and started counting for twelve cards. I suppose you were muttering curses to the other players-me and all our classmates-or maybe you were muttering curses to the system we created since we didn’t use the rightful system to play UNO. But, hey, you triumphed over me thousands of times before because of this twisted system. You should be grateful.
‘Hey, at least it’s not 16,’ someone said.
Then they all looked at me. Yeah, that record was held firmly by me. And nobody had ever surpassed it. So I just grinned at all of them and turned to you. ‘You see? It’s not that bad. It’s still four cards short from the record.’
‘Yeah, thanks for the support,’ you said sarcastically while pulling out a card and put it on the pile. It was a reverse. In red.
Damn, I thought.
I tried to look composed but my hand crept silently to the deck.
You looked at me and smirked. ‘You don’t have a red, do you?’
I snorted. ‘Of course I…don’t.’
Everyone laughed as I pulled out a red card and put it on the pile while the other countless cards are stacked in my hand. And I almost won too.
Then it was someone else’s turn and I leaned closer to you. ‘I’ll trade you a blue for a red. I know you want it.’
But you snorted. ‘I know we’re friends and all but in UNO, you will always be my enemy.’
I looked away, irritated. Right then I wasn’t thinking about the fact that you said we were enemies on something. I was only thinking about you not wanting to give me a lousy red card for trade. Little did I know that the word ‘enemy’ is like ink: it easily spreads if not used properly.
‘Isn’t there another way to do this?’
The girl turns round in recognition to the question the boy has just asked. How long has it been since the last time he ever asked her such a question? She cannot quite remember but she knows it has been a while. A long while, in fact. She doesn’t say anything to answer his question, thinking he will utter another word. But there he is, standing there, waiting for her to say something.
‘I don’t think so,’ she says with her hand on her chin, as if pondering if there is indeed another way to retrieve her very heart. ‘I’m afraid I will have to pull it out of your chest just as I intended to.’
She is smiling now as if she doesn’t feel the slightest sadness at the thought of doing such a morbid thing.
‘Look, it doesn’t have to be this way,’ the boy reasons.
‘Oh, but it does.’
Above them, the sky is forming grey clouds with the sweep of the wind that blows almost in such a rage. The girl’s hair is flying this way and that, making a big mess of her head. The trees are swaying this way and that, making the leaves chime like little bells. Suddenly, the air is cold.
‘All right,’ the boy finally says. ‘But let me ask you one question.’
‘Shoot,’ the girl insists.
‘All this time, after I killed you, why have you been after me? How come you’ve tried to kill me so many times?’
The girl freezes. Perhaps she has not thought this through.
But then she smiles. ‘Because I hate you.’
The boy looks at her with full astonishment-perhaps it is more like disbelief-at the statement the girl just threw at him. How come I have never known this? Haven’t we always been friends all this time? Is it because I killed her? These thoughts float through the boy’s mind rapidly, making him think harder like he never did before.
‘Is it because I killed you?’
The girl shakes her head.
‘Has it been happening for a long time?’
The girl pauses for a moment but then nods with a smile.
‘Why?’
The girl looks irritated. ‘Do I have to spell it out to you?’
When the boy isn’t responding, the girl sighs. ‘We started out as strangers, like most people do when they first started their relationships-whatever kind it may be. I was curious about you and we became friends. We were so close before. You told me your problems and I told you mine. We talked on the phone with a touch of delight and we pored over the computer with excitement biting our skin. You kept assuring me to let go of my insecurities and I kept telling you to make a move.’
The boy remembers it all. The girl he has once told everything about. He told her he never told anyone any of the personal information he’d told her long ago. That is, however, until he decided to tell everyone else. The information doesn’t seem so personal anymore.
The girl looks down at her feet. ‘But it’s all changed.’
The boy silently nods. It sure has.
‘You became very far away from me and I hardly recognise you anymore. You became every bit a person I refuse to become. You became the person I would usually hate,’ the girl continues.
‘And you do.’
The wind is blowing more gently now, blowing at the girl’s hair, sending it splaying across her face and over her head, making a mess. Beneath the strands of her hair that cover her face, her eyes are looking up at the boy. For a moment, she keeps looking at him, as if waiting for him to see the truth in her eyes. Her eyes move away from the boy when he keeps silent.
‘I don’t.’
‘What?’
But before the boy-wide-eyed in disbelief to what she just said-could find out whether he heard the girl right or not, the girl starts attacking him again. Her moves made more swiftly with the flow of the wind which hits them strong through to their bones. The boy still has his reflexes and-up until now-still manages to defend himself against her strikes.
Back to square one, he notes in irritation.
...To be continued...
NEXT: ||[ What Nobody Knows]||
[ art section]