OBSIDIAN ISSUE #2 : WOUNDED

THREE

Like what I said, I can be anyone who I wanted to be. In the cavernous parts of my skull, I can imagine all that I want to see. Sa dilim, sa pikit kong mga mata, dagitab ng mga bulto ay humahalina pa sa hiling na sa isip ko na lang makakamit.

Tanaw ko si Mommy na luhaang pumasok sa aking kuwarto. Dressed in a long, light, white robe and cascading sympathy, genuine love for me was finally found as she watches her daughter bathe in her own young blood on the floor.

Kumakatok ang mga iyak at luha, ngunit nanatiling sarado ang bintana ng aking kaluluwa.

Is this why the eyes are called the windows of our souls? Dahil sa tuwing pinipikit ko ang aking mga mata, parang nakukulong lahat sa loob at hinihila ako pababa. Tila tahanan akong nilulunod ng baha. But each time of my waking hours, tiny shards of a one whole of my burden escapes from me. Kaya minsan, ayaw kong humiga at pumikit. They're too heavy to contain in my chest when I lay in my bed. Parang tinutulak talaga ako hanggang sa mailibing nang buhay sa aking higaan. But if death is what I want, bakit kailangan ko pang bagalan? Why can I just do it instead of waiting for an accident to take me? Bakit hindi na lang ako tumayo sa gitna ng daan at hayaan ang sariling masagasaan? Painful? How would it feel to die in your sleep, then?

I've always wondered why we do have different ways of dying. Others had it tragic, while some are peaceful. Is it of our own doing? Or God's will for others to have a dreadful end? Iyong mga pinapatay? Why do they have to go through the bloody hands of evil? Knives, guns... siguro nga dahil walang mabuti o masamang tao. We're just humans after all and it doesn't matter if you have done more good than bad because in any way, we're all just going to end in a single line. In tragedy, or in peace.

Death is a mother. Heaven and hell are the children. To which sibling should I end up with?

But if I wanted death so much, bakit kinakabahan pa rin ako sa kaunting salubong ng sasakyan? My heart is forcing out of my ribcage when this car would almost hit the hood of my car. Iyong kaunting usog na lang ay babangga na. Though, I don't know if the adrenaline was caused by fear or excitement, iyong tahimik mong chini-cheer na babangga na. Babangga na! Kaunting usog pa... and the wave of emotion gradually slides down when what you've expected didn't happen. Unsure if this is from disappointment or relief.

And yet, here I am, making passionate love with death I see red at the peak of my pain. I cried in both pleasure and torture, weakness in the end.

Tumalon ang binagsak kong blade sa sahig at piniga ang sariling pulsuhan para sa danak ng dugo. I cried silently, hoping to lose my consciousness afterwards. Hoping that I was successful. I did on that night. Iyon ang huling alaala maliban sa umuugong na kirot sa aking ugat.

Inay Hirelda found me unconscious in my room. Samantalang galit na galit si Mommy sa kadahilanang kontinente ang agwat sa pangungulila kapag natuluyan nga ako. She was mad for what I did to my face, and for what the other people might think of her as a parent, for what the other people might think upon knowing that she has a suicidal daughter.

So she quickly scheduled a flight for us going to Manila. Dad was with us, too, for some business reasons. I kept myself under the vow of silence for the whole trip. Wala rin namang makikinig sa akin. Even Dad was mad at me for a reason I'll never know but one could be that he shared a twin sentiment with Mom so I didn't bother.

Napabuntong hininga na lamang ako nang makita ang main branch building ng clinic ni Mommy dito sa siyudad. With the scars on my face, asking why I'm here is useless. Kahit na may ibang business na pagkakaabalahan sila ni dad dito, ito pa rin ang pinakapaksa ng pagdala nila sa akin.

The fragility of my fingertips touched the roughness of the scar lines on my wrist. What could have been the worst. An aesthetic clinic instead of a psychiatrist? Is the stigma on my face more relevant than of my scarred state of mind? Maybe it's just a matter of perception and theirs are just as crooked as mine.