“You’re a good singer, Ms. Delterro. Unfortunately, the twenty-five slots for the annual Nightingale’s Convention have already been filled. I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll find more opportunities after this,” the secretary said with a voice full of regret.
She gave me the rejection letter signed by the mentors and organizers then turned to the other aspiring singers who were not accepted.
Pssh. Yeah, sure. You regret not having me in the convention. Blah, blah, blah, I told myself the moment the secretary’s attention was no longer on me. I left the venue feeling more and more dejected by the minute.
Maybe I should tear this letter into pieces. I eyed it disdainfully, almost crumpling it.
Then I heard my mom’s singing voice.
Oh heck. Every time I hear my mother’s voice, I remember the vow I made to her. I’ll make sure to follow her dreams: to be a famous singer. Right now, I have about five rejection letters, and twenty-three envelopes that once contained consolation prizes from singing contests—all of which remind me of everything I went through. It’s also my way of telling myself not to give up.
But damn, sometimes, I just want to forget any promises and actually try to find a different direction in life.
Maybe, I’m not meant to be a singer.
But then, singing is the only connection I have with the parents I lost when I was ten. They were performers in the local theater and they had expected me to follow their footsteps. The theater has closed already, long before I could make a name for myself.
I raised my head and looked at the vast collection of clouds. “Are you going to forgive me if I give up and pursue a different career?”
I sighed. They couldn’t possibly be able to answer me, anyway. And if they did, I couldn’t possibly know it.
I continued walking along the road, trying to figure out what to do next. There are a lot of probable options but I’m still confused as to what exactly I should do. After some time, I reached the beach. There’s something about the water that makes me feel so peaceful inside…less lonely. If I could afford it, I’d really want a house by the sea. It would be so nice to wake up at the sound of the waves rushing to the shore, the loud cries of the seagulls, and the overwhelming scent of saltwater.
Maybe then, I’d stop thinking that I no longer have a family. Maybe then, I’d stop holding onto something that everybody tells me is impossible.
I walked over to my favorite spot: that cave-like rock formation near the end of the island. It offers privacy and peace even when there are a lot of people at the beach. I took my handkerchief out of my shoulder bag and spread it on the dry surface of the sand-encrusted rock. I took a breath of fresh air and smiled.
This is the life.
Not even five minutes had passed, however, when I saw a crack of lightning disturbing the clear sky, followed by an earsplitting boom of thunder. Dark clouds began to gather, pouring large droplets of water into the sea. Strong gusts of wind started whipping my hair. The waves grew unusually bigger and the seagulls cried louder.
Sooner than I can contemplate, the water had reached inside my rocky sanctuary. I stood up, trying to leave before the waves swallowed me, burying me under the sea forever. It was quite hard to do so because of the strong winds. I almost lost my balance twice while going down from the rocks.
There is one more ledge to conquer before I could reach a smoother and safer surface. I went on with my descent but before my feet touched the sandy ground, a blast of air combined with a giant wave of seawater knocked me off my feet.
And then everything went black.