3TS: The Chances of Starting Again

Worst Day of my LIFE

Feb. 18 Emotional pain is more difficult to bear than physical pain.

After my exciting-confusing-cool experience, I was back to my real life.

My troubles. Especially with Juan.

**

Juan stared down at his backpack on the floor. My heart took effect as if it dropped into a pool of liquid nitrogen. Frozen. Cold. Almost lifeless. I gulped.

How many times has it been? How many times have our paths crossed with bad luck, journal? Too many times to mention.

He looked back up at me and tried to jump at me like a wild cat, throwing his arm back for a punch. But his friends caught him in time before he could scrape me.

Silence overcame the crowded hallway as students rushed into classrooms to go away from the fight or to crowd around us.

His face was twisted with anger, "Are you trying to make me angry? Haven't you learned?" He pulled his arms away from his friends that had taken a hold of him. Stepping closer, he seemed to throw knives with his eyes at me, while his friends glanced at him cautiously. He whispered loudly to me,

"You're lucky that my cut from that shelf wasn't serious. That all the mini-cuts from those plates just stung a little. And now, look at me! I have to get a new backpack because of you!" He roughly picked up his backpack and threw it at me.

I looked down at the backpack. With a gaping hole on the side, it looked more of like a beggar's bag that had traveled too many times to survive. He raised his voice, "You just can't stop messing up my life. Is that it? Haven't you learned anything?"

His words hit me like a ton of bricks that had poisonous vines twisted within them. My eyes started to well up with tears. My heart shattered like blocks of ice meeting up with cement.

Haven't you learned anything?

His words kept echoing in my head, as if I was in a large canyon, away from all civilization. Away from all hopes of escaping the danger before me. Away from all feeling except numbness, cold, and self-pity.

I heard of how hard it was to earn money in his family. His dad was a jeepney driver and his mom was a maid. He himself had worked at a bar just to earn money when he was younger, turning himself into a great entertainer but with a rough personality. And now, seeing him break in front of me, made me believe the other stories I heard of him.

How he was usually at home alone. How he had no guidance and help from his mom and dad who were always trying to find odd jobs to pay bills. And then, he had fallen during the dance. With their money falling with it too.

It was all because of me. My lips trembled as I tried to walk away.

But he slammed his hand on the wall, blocking my way out.

"Just stop." He growled. "Stop trying to run away. Because I have some things to say to your pitiful face."

I tried to wipe away the tears, but they just kept streaming down.

He had called me pitiful. He had called me many things. But this. This felt the worst. It was as if my world was finally turned upside-down. And I was falling into nothing. Into black.

And then he spoke the words. The words that touched that sensitive wire. With one touch, the wire would lead to an explosion. "You haven't learned by now how to be tough? Didn't your father ever teach you anything?"

And then an explosion happened within me. My fists clenched, and my heart started to beat faster. Faster and faster, as if it was running a thousand miles per hour until it caught flame.

My mouth wanted to open. To scream. But I held it shut for as long as I could. If Juan would just stop talking, maybe I wouldn't burst. Maybe it wouldn't happen again.

But he drove on, "Did he ever teach you not to be a screw-up? How to be strong? To not make mistakes? Because it looks like-"

That. Was. It.

No one was behind me to stop me. I had no idea where Arlene was right then. And in that moment, I didn't care. I didn't need anyone to stop me. Because he crossed the line. And I had to make him pay.

With all my force, I pushed him. "How dare you talk about my father like that!" I shouted. He skidded backwards, and tripped. The surprise on his face should have been enough for me, and I should have ran away by then, but my anger didn't think so.

He could push me around. I could take it. But talking about my dad...

I could hear that I was breathing too hard. Juan's friends shuffled backwards uncomfortably. The hall became very still. I should have felt embarrassed, but I didn't. This was only between me and Juan.

Right now, nothing else mattered.

Journal, you should have seen me then. I could have been compared to an angered bull about to strike its foe. He had touched a subject that was too dear to me to be said aloud.

The subject.

It was as if the core center of my good moral and attitude, hanging by a thin thread, suddenly snapped. My core center inside me felt as if it had crashed to the floor, shattering into a million pieces.

From the corner of my eye, I could make out Arlene, frozen on the spot. She was staring at me as if I was an alien. It's true, I have never acted like this before. But I had acted like this, before we had even met.

She never knew the "me from the past".

I could feel my heart pulsing, as if it pushed me forward as I walked towards Juan. It was as if anger was the only thing controlling my body. My arms seemed to thrash as I gestured at him. My mouth opened, "How dare you say that! How dare you!"

Anger was the only thing I could feel, my thoughts were screaming at me to stop before I did anything worse. But I was only coming closer, "Don't you dare speak about my father like that!" Hot tears formed at the edges of my eyes, but I didn't cry. I should have stopped, but I kept on saying those same words as I got closer to Juan, who was starting to step away from me.

He looked backwards, which unfortunately for him, was the wall of the building. The dead end in the school hallway. No way out for him. He would have to go through me. My mind was pleading with me to stop, but Anger now fully controlled my actions. "How dare-"

Suddenly, someone carried me up by my waist, trying to lead me away from Juan. The crowds parted without a word, and I was being led down the hall. For a minute, I was too shocked from this quick action to do anything. But then I started to move, trying to get out.

Juan had spoken about my father wrongly, and I couldn't let it go. Juan had to pay for this. I tried to break the hands that were holding me, "Let me go! I have to-"

"No, you don't have to do anything." It was Trent's voice. And he was leading me down the next hallway, which was empty.