Dawn of Chaos

Chapter 7: What was I made for?

I didn't even noticed the tears streaming down my face until I felt the coldness touch my neck.
Who am' I?

I didn't get to sleep that night.

**

"What made God, God?" Our professor asked. Looking around the room, awaiting for any response.

"Because he's omniscient." A student
answered, as the professor nodded and wrote it on the board.

"What else, my students? I'm sure you can add some more." He laughed warmly, opening his hands for any more suggestions until his eyes landed on me.

"Ms. Lopez." I hesitated for a minute.

"Because he's all knowing. The absolute in all hesitations. He's kind even to those who aren't in favor of him. And above all, he's powerful." I recited. The voice of my mother following me through every words I uttered.

Our professor smiled, nodding as he turned his back.

"Omniscient, Absolute, Kind, and Powerful." He wrote.

"So that's what makes God, God?" He questioned again as I nodded.
The door in front of the classroom opened, revealing Brahms, sauntering through the tables as he sat beside me. His moves were almost calculated when he didn't even hesitate to sit down beside me. "Dawn." He greeted, sending chills down my spine. I nodded in return, ignoring his presence as he leaned on the backrest of the chair.

"So you believe in him?" The professor asked once again, taking my attention. I nodded, getting curious with all the questions he threw.

"So like you said, he's the absolute, kind, and powerful. If so, then why are there still bad things happening in the world?"

"To test our faiths." I answered confidently.
"Didn't you just told me that God is kind?"

"I did. But our actions as humans does not define him. We made our decisions that led us to those bad results. It wasn't his fault." I argued.

"You said he was powerful, my child. Then why didn't he just take away these natures in human beings so none of them ends this way?"

"And you said so yourself. That he's kind. So why would he let his children get punished for the things he could change so himself?" His statement made me silent. Becoming more confused than I did last night. His point only made me more lost when he redirected the argument.

I could feel Brahms looking at me but I chose to ignore him.

"Let's look at this in a different way, child. Do you believe that God does things for a reason?" He questioned to which I nodded with hesitation in me, already growing anxious with how lost I'am in my own belief.

"Then why are women, men, and even children, are raped?" He asked me dead in the eye, making my whole mind blank.

"I..." I tried to come up with a reasonable argument. I read every part of the bible. From Psalms, to Matthews, to Revelations. But none of them could answer the boulder question my professor threw at me.

"I don't know." I whispered thickly.

He looked at me for a moment, before nodding when the bell rang. Immediately, the students stretched up, clearly asleep throughout the whole lesson and rushed their way out the doors. But I stayed in my seat. The thoughts running through my head one by one made me pull my hair in annoyance.

Tears edged my eyes like an ocean, waiting to be set free. I cupped my lips to hide the quiver I was already feeling coming out of my throat.

For years, that was what I believed in. But the question left by my professor made me doubt my whole belief. And in that, made me doubt myself. I think back to the women who faced such cruelty in the hands of those vulgar pleasure.

I watched them from the news, but never getting the whole story because the moment such news came into view, my mother would turn off the television immediately. Saying how such vulgar news is never my business to meddle. Whatever business I'm not associated with should not be spared with any attention, she said.

But thinking about it now, made me wonder my whole belief. And how did I never asked myself that. Was it because the faith I had blinded me from the truth? Or did I do it to myself ?

I stared at the small cross hanging infront of the classroom with confusion and longing with answers crafted in my head. Not until I felt rough hands crawling from my nape towards my hair, massaging it softly.

I didn't even noticed Brahms sitting beside me until he touched my neck.

"Hey." I said thickly, wiping the tears that managed to escape. He didn't answer me. He only stared at me. Whatever thoughts running from his mind were not readable from my point of view. I could tell the screws were running inside his head. But his facade were perfect enough to hide them from me.

"Sorry, I..."

"Never apologize, Dawn." He cut me off, staring through my eyes. "Yeah." I answered absentmindedly, getting lost through the black void his eyes carries. My mother said there was no such thing as black eyes. There's only brown and deep brown that made it look black. But never black. Not literally. Yet gazing in his eyes, there was no presence of brown in them. No matter how the reflection of light catches his eyes, it was all black. Ocean black. And I found myself drowning in them.

He took his hand away, which I didn't even realize were still on my hair before he stood.

He took his bag, opened them and dropping a blue object on my table.
My breath hitched as I saw my blue umbrella with my name engraved on the hook before he spoke.

"You left something."

***
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