The Day Michael Died

 I glanced at the mirror the nth time around. It was 9:25 P.M. Good thing that the soft and cool night wind helped me to stop the facial oils from coming out of my pores. I looked beautiful. I just do not know why I cannot make a step closer to get inside. Oh no–

I knew why. What I actually do not know is how to take one step closer to the function hall. I looked around once again to release the pressure that I am feeling for about two and a half hours of staying outside.

         I cannot count the exact population of Porsche, Honda and Toyota.

         “Wow…” I bitterly whispered. I would not be surprised. This batch was the blast of all batches.

         “Were they happy?”, my concerned persona tried to make senseless consolations.

         “Well, not as miserable as you are”, my brat side mocked.

         One deep sigh…

JOHN DEWEY MEMORIAL INSTITUTE

WELCOME, BATCH 2002!!!

“Old Friends”

The 87th GRAND ALUMNI HOMECOMING

February 28, 2010

         I wished that the moon and the stars will have pity on me and steal me from this nightmare. However, I cannot rely on heavenly bodies now. I glanced at the mirror for the last time, let out the Guinness deepest sigh ever released and forced my feet to step forward.

         “Do not be afraid, Margarette… in 1,800 seconds, you will at last be free”, said my concerned persona. I hope the brat one would stop interfering. Right, I should no longer allow my life to be chained by this shadow behind me… the loveliest shadow I have ever seen. With the moral and emotional boost, I went inside the building and headed towards the function hall that was in the east wing. It was 9:50 P.M.

♫ I hope you know, I hope you know that this has nothing to do with you…

It’s personal, myself and I… We’ve got some straightening out to do...♫

            I could hear the music coming from inside the hall. However, I could feel that my heartbeat tries to compete with the noise. I stood as still as a statue in the doorway.

“Ma’am, may I have your invitation?”, a voice awakened my senses.

“O-oh… He-here…”, my voice was trembling.

“Are you alright, Ma’am? Do you want me to accompany you to your seat?”, the receptionist was incredibly sincere.

“Ah, no. Thank you. I can manage,” I said to him, then I started to walk aimlessly around the hall.

Due to the neon lights, I could not even recognize the dancing figures at the center. Neither can I recognize the people who chatted left and right with wineglasses in their hands. Amid this scenario, someone tapped my shoulder that made my heart stop beating for a while. I turned around.

“Leslie…”

“Margarette…” she said, with a voice rather disturbed than welcoming. “You did not change a bit.”

A deep thrust. “I would take that as a compliment, Leslie. I am still as pretty as your old college cheat mate.” We smiled the bitter smile.

“Margarette, you know you don’t have to be here. You said last–”

 “No, Leslie. Don’t worry about me. I am going to end the last eight years tonight.”

“I mean, I know you’ll be fine but…”

“Sshhh… Have you seen?”

Leslie did not utter any word. She looked down.

“Leslie, I can do this you know? Have you seen…?”

“Y-yes. There,” she hesitantly pointed her finger at the left corner of the hall.

“Thank you…” I painfully uttered. I looked at the direction where Leslie had pointed. I saw a familiar shadow. I walked towards it.

“May I join you?”

“Of course,” the shadow casually answered. “I am expecting you for the past three hours.”

“W-why?”, I stupidly asked.

The shadow laughed. “Oh Margarette! You never changed!” A deep thrust. “Don’t tell me…” the shadow continued.

“No, I’m letting go. Right here and right now,” I told the shadow with the fakest determinate voice.

“Oh, that’s good!” It was more of disbelief than praise. “I bet you have only decided that the moment you sit in front of me. If I’m wrong, you should be here three hours ago.” A deep thrust. The wit was still there.

“Don’t I deserve a parlor session?” A lame answer.

“Oh my gosh, you called that a parlor session? Margarette, spare me with your alibis. You don’t care about your appearance.” A deep thrust. The shadow still remembers. “I’m married,” it continued. Obviously, it was putting insult to the injury.

Yes, it was successful. Nevertheless, the game is just commencing. “You cannot have a child,” I fought back. My eyebrows partly elevated.

“Who told you?” the shadow mocked.

I sucked all the air around me when I heard it. The shadow knew I was defeated in the first round. “The problem with you, Margarette, is that you say things that are only assumptions. That attitude always humiliates you. That’s what Michael didn’t like about you!”

“What Michael didn’t like about me is that I am a woman!” I angrily replied as I fought my tears back. I won the second round.

“Look, he liked you at some point. Because you are a woman…”

“Don’t give me that shit. I know what I’m talking about now. Michael liked me for I can sew a good patch in his ragged clothes! And where are those clothes now?”

“They were buried. Together with his death,” the shadow casually revealed. A deep thrust. Michael was gone. He’s dead for eight years.

“No…” I cried. I poured the years out through my tears.

“I thought you will let go? You know what, we can be friends…” the shadow suddenly became empathic.

“No! I don’t like you! He’s dead! You killed him!!!” I exclaimed.

As always, the shadow remained silent amidst my hysteria. It never tapped my back. It only watched me to let go – to fully embrace liberty. After eight minutes, I was able to stop crying. The shadow offered a hanky, but I turned it down.

“We can always be friends,” it repeated. “Like Michael.”

“We can’t. Because I never knew you,” I furiously replied.

“Oh…,” it painfully whispered. “M-maybe we can start by introducing ourselves? Hi, Margarette, my name is Michelle. Michelle B. Carrion.” A deep thrust. Michael IS gone.

“I’m going home,” I said as I stood in front of the shadow. It did not even stop me from walking away. Better, so it will not see my tears pouring out again.

I grieved for the death of the love that I had since college. I mourned for the demise of the person who loved me, but ended up taking the same path as mine; and that separated us forever. I thought we are destined to be one, but we are fated to be the same. Until now, the person was still engraved in the deepest portion of my heart. Unfortunately, the person turned himself into someone I never knew.

I had always believed that closure is a luxury. Michael has been offering it to me for eight long years. And for eight long years, I have been turning something that I cannot afford down.

So, before I leave the Reunion Hall, with all the strength that was left of me, I gently whispered, “Goodbye, Michael. It was very nice to talk to you once more… and for the last time.” Bitterness starts now.

I checked my watch. It was 10:20 in the evening.