Prism

by raince

So today, we were assigned a task in our Rhetoric Class. Kinda like a Story-Telling activity. We were given a random picture and we would tell something of a plot connected to that picture. Mine (fate hates me) was a picture of an album of Katy Perry. Fuck it, right? It had only the name Katy Perry and the word Prism surrounding the name. How the hell will I tell something about that? So, in under ten minutes, I came up with this simple plot (and a lot of ad-libs when it was my turn to blabber in front).

KATY PERR

~*~

I remember in immense detail the day I died. Before we get to that short miserable end of my short miserable life, let me first tell you my name. The name’s Jude Reyes. Pretty ordinary name but I was not an ordinary guy. Well, I’d like to think I was not. I was the kind of guy that would lock myself up in a room, stay in a corner, and be alone. As you can probably picture out, I was an introvert. I don’t associate with people.

I gave up trusting them. Because they failed me. The one time I trusted someone, she left me. I trusted my mom. She died when I was thirteen. She abandoned me in this chaotic world of misfortune. So, in the nineteen years I existed, I never really had the chance to experience that teenage dream you folks had. I chose not to anyway.

So, lets go back to that day. The last day. I was sitting by the edge of the lake, a pen and a piece of paper in front of me. I liked writing, it was one of the only things I appreciate in this world. I always had an idea in mind. Maybe because it was one of the ways for me to express since I cannot really do that with people.

But-

At that moment, she was the only one running in my mind. The thought of her. Her– wasn’t my mom. Her– was a girl I met. She wasn’t exactly the prettiest girl there was. She wasn’t that sort of California Girl(s) most guys were dreaming of. She was plainly ordinary. But she was the only thing I see right now. When I looked out the view of the shimmering water of this lake, I can see the blueness of her eyes there. When I looked out the horizon, I can see the gold of her skin. When I closed my eyes, I can see her smile. Hear her laughter.

I can feel her.

What—why? Why was I thinking about her? Wasn’t I the one who pushed her away? Haven’t I rejected her a couple of times? Heck, I even rejected her today. I can even feel the misery radiating from her when I told her, “no”. She just doesn’t deserve me and I don’t deserve her.

She was hot and I was cold . She was all bright and sunshine. She kept on knocking at the door of my heart but I refused to even let her peek. But she still loves me unconditionally. What does she even saw in me? I was a completely messed up guy. I was a dark person (horse)

And why was I thinking of her (you), anyway?

I looked back at the paper I was holding. My eyes bulged. The page was filled with her name in different fonts. There were scribbled, elegant, cursive, microscopic, and gigantic  hand-writings everywhere. All of them conveyed different emotions.

Suddenly, something sparked. An explosion of fireworks electrocuted a part of me.

God, I was in love with her.

Before I knew it, I was running down the street. I don’t know what I was doing. Damn, I don’t care. I wanted to see her. So, I ran downtown. An introvert asking people if they have seen her. How ironic. How completely ridiculous. But I don’t care. I wanted to see her.

And then I looked up and found her across the street. She was sitting on a table by herself in a cosy coffee shop. Feelings drumming in my chest, I walked towards her.

But something stopped me.

A guy sat across from her on that table. I don’t know what caused the pain. I don’t know if it was the expression on her face—the complete misery in her eyes; or the expression of the guy in front of her– I was the one who was supposed to be looking at her like that!

I got stuck in the middle of the street. I cannot seem to find the energy to move my legs forward. I was frozen.

She looked up. Her eyes flashed with recognition, they lit up. But it was replaced by something else—anxiousness and horror. She got up from her seat and she was calling my name, reaching out her hand in desperation.

But I still didn’t move.

Damn, I was an idiot. Well, I always was and always had been.

And then I heard a roar of an engine behind me. Something hard slammed into me and I felt the ground disappearing from my feet, I felt myself flying midair.

Then I hit the cold damp sidewalk.

The last thing I saw was her face.

The last thing I heard was her voice. Saying my name.

And the last thing I did was smile at her and whispered hers.

“Naomi.”

Then everything went blank. Everything faded away.

Good bye, world.

I was the one that got away.

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