Desires come in packages. I bought one, out of the blue, while walking down a dark place in which I have never cared to walk upon. On the smooth grey streets from where I live, I took myself walking and had some incredible realizations "fit for a noble prize," I said. I said many things. I don't mean all of them, just some. Walking reminds me of my real goal and that is to move forward internally. I'm quite forgetful and slow to catch up on everything. It's a common pitfall to say that you can't do it when you really can and I meet the sad faces when they realize they missed the opportunity to witness themselves doing what they thought they couldn't. Shame.
I circled back to my usual route. I could feel the sweat on my forehead and the violent churning of my stomach fluids. I met my half sister when she was seven. We fought a lot about clothes and my parents' attention. That goes from day to night. Even during meals. We fight with pride. Our parents never cared whether we're doing fine. All they bothered and went on about was whether we have enough money. They fight about it with pride. Even during meals.
I slowed my pace and took a left. It was natural for me to take that left. Alice was my one friend. We once saw a car parked across a gasoline station and the man that didn't move. We called for help and ended up running towards the forest where we talked for hours and swore to never repeat what we shared to anyone ever again. Alice was a curious girl. She showed me where fairies lived and where oceans go when they're hungry. She brought me a star. It twinkles. It stopped twinkling when I held it. I showed Alice to which she said, "indeed, it did." One thing, I enjoyed was how sentimental she would go. She even kept a picture of their family in her blue jean jacket that she always wore. We would meet down the street during afternoon after school and walk and pass by houses that was never our own. Sometimes, when we feel like it we visit Mrs. Burke, her mom. They have the same face. She'd give us fresh milk and wheat bread and we'll spend the whole day at their backyard and we'd wait for my star to twinkle once again. Alice was older than me. It was my pleasure to have her around for I've always wanted to be mentored.
One time, when I got home, I saw my father sitting on his chair in the living room. I walked lightly fearing that I might disturb his tranquil. He seemed to have had a long day at work. I noticed that my mother wasn't anywhere to be found so, I thought, maybe she'll be here when I wake up. Tomorrow came and she was still gone. I called out for my sister and father but they, too, seemed to have went somewhere. My heart felt heavy like something was pressing it and it wanted out of my chest but I couldn't understand it. I tried to chase it but it went and it got complicated.
I held my star. My back stayed on the floor. I got it tied down to my neck and I stared at it all day long. I just wanted it to twinkle the way it used to. Why was it that it stopped doing what it was meant to do?
I walked to the trees and I saw Alice behind a pine tree singing a song. Her voice stretched upwards.
"Hey, what are you up to?" I asked. She smiled so wide and told me to sit beside her. She told me about my family and how she met them. "Do you miss them?" I didn't see them all morning, I told her. And I kept trying to recall how she could've gotten to know them. I haven't brought her to our home. Alice lived in a place called a hospital. I remembered the smell. Sometimes, my mind reminds me of things and I'd feel my blood rushing through my body and I wonder what that meant. It's not easy for me to remember what's real and what's not these days. I get it all mixed up terribly. Today, I faced the mirror. One of my self-reflection episodes. It has been 2 months without seeing my family.
I looked far across the town and just like that, I lost the beating of my heart. It's a warm afternoon. Everything felt still and breathing. I could hear it all with just one ear open. I love the chatter and soft cracks whenever I step on dried leaves. I saw a man with a folded newspaper placed under his armpit. He's like a person fresh out of a black and white movie. His face like he was falling from an ivory tower. I see it all the time. Before it was just an alternative sound but it seems like everyone has adapted to it. Motionless, I was. But I remained standing. I haven't heard from Alice. It's quite lonely without her. I've gotten used to not seeing everybody else. I don't think she'll come back.
I turned nineteen. That's when I fell off the pavement. I was held under machines and I drank countless of bitter medicine. I was glad they had pudding. I wailed every night. I had only a few memories to play out. I stared at the ceiling telling myself, "better, I'll get better tomorrow."
I didn't.
I didn't.