mourir

The airplane that flew magnificently high above in the sky was illuminated by the gentle golden rays of the sun.

I was in the room. The teacher was discussing about plate tectonics over and over again. My other classmates feigned attentiveness and were actually daydreaming about who knows what. The orange and brown leaves fell from the majestic tree that stood just outside the building. The autumn wind was knocking on the window, aching to bring the whole class to shivers.

To some, it may seem like another mundane autumn day but to me, it wasn’t. Everyday wasn’t the same for me. Every day was another day of burden piling up on my shoulders. Every day was another day knowing that life has nothing good in store for me and the other problematic people in the world. Every day was another day I had to force myself to get up and do my usual routine.

I forced yourself to listen to the teacher but I knew that you just couldn’t. Part of me told your brain to listen to the teacher because I needed to reach everyone’s expectations but another part of me told my brain that I didn’t need to listen to the teacher discuss a topic I didn’t even need for my “dream job” and that I could just sleep through it. It was paradoxical and I hated it.

I wasn’t the smartest – I was just hard-working. I just wanted to reach my parent’s expectations that absurdly rose higher and higher every school year. I was someone who had a quite weak memory that became one of the main hindrances to why I couldn’t ace an exam. Stress was the outcome and it was eating me slowly but painfully.

School was becoming a drag.

I decided to try to listen instead but still ended up failing to do so and I nearly gave in to your sleepiness. By that time, almost everyone was either asleep or they were a second close to it. I wasn’t blaming the teacher but rather, I were blaming the people who told the teachers to do this and do that saying that “everything is a preparation for your future”. Preparation my , I would think every time they’d say that. Who’d even put plate tectonics or even algebra to use when you’re a doctor or a software engineer or a stewardess? Who even uses trigonometry in a hospital or an airport? It wasn’t that I hated those subjects but rather thought of it more as a waste of time.

Why waste time on learning stuff you wouldn’t really need in the future when you could start learning the basics of your future job?

But then again, I knew that whatever we about were learning was beneficial to our knowledge and to us deciding what we want to be in the future. Knowledge was of high importance in this world, I knew this well.

I checked your watch, a minute more before the next subject. Just then, our teacher decided to end the discussion there and bid the class bye before going to another class. Luckily, the next subject was one of my favorites – English literature. It helped me escape reality and into a world with buildings made from words and ideas formed together artistically. It was something like my very own haven except for the fact that the teacher didn’t quite like me.

I liked the subject, I liked the teacher but she didn’t like me back. Whenever she would ask a question and I would raise my hand, she’d ignore me and call my other classmate who already reached the highest mark on recitation to say the answer. When I'm given a chance to recite, she’d totally reject my answer and would sometimes tell me to say it differently or something like that. It wasn’t fair and I started to hate her attitude for it. I’d think it was a waste since she was so good in teaching the subject.

She entered the room and everyone greeted her. She opened a new lesson about English or American books. She named a few popular ones like the ones written by John Green, Jenny Han, Jay Asher, Tolkien, and the sort. It was one of the discussions I waited for the most since I absolutely loved reading books whether its origin is America or any other country as long as I understood whatever was written. Reading books was one of my outputs and no one could separate you from it.

Though, I started to space out in the middle of the discussion. Our teacher wasn’t boring; it was far from that. She was doing a good job at gaining the attention of everyone, well, except for me that is. I couldn’t help it. I was looking out the window discreetly and admiring the beauty of the sky when an airplane caught my attention. I thought of something and looked down immediately and mentally slapped myself. I got scared of my own self and my eyes reflected it.

Well, why wouldn’t I be scared when I secretly wished for the plane to crash directly on me?

It was a pain to have my own mind work its own wonders in the most morbid way possible for me. My emotions were starting to get to my brain, slowly but surely. I wondered how long it would take before my emotions – my deadly emotions – would wipe off the sanity I had left.

The thought itself made me shudder and scared. I was torn between my sanity and my insanity. My sanity told me to never give up and that I’d only cause suffering to the ones I love; be selfless. My corroding sanity told me to end my pain and be selfish for one last time. It sounded tempting and as my sanity continues to corrode, the feeling of giving in felt much stronger.

A little bit longer.

“Hey, are you alright?” I snapped out from my thoughts when I heard a male voice say close to my ear.

“What made you think otherwise?” I just replied dully, a futile attempt to hide the chaos lurking in me.

“I don’t know. You just seem off. No offense though.” He looked ahead as the both of us started walking.

“None taken. Just a little under the weather, I guess.” I shrugged nonchalantly.

He didn’t say anything. The both of us just walked through the narrow and crowded hallways that never fail to make me feel claustrophobic. The way people just rush to the cafeteria, not caring if they bump into someone or step on someone’s foot or the like. No one cared about the other – they care only for themselves and the people of use to them.

Maybe that’s why I hated people. People are selfish, shallow, fake living beings. They’re similar to leeches – everything while leaving the victim to nothing. They cling to others only when they need something then after they get what they want, they just suddenly leave you without a word.

Without him noticing, I escaped the torturous hallways and into the peaceful garden located at the rooftop of the building. It was a breath of fresh air to just stand air wide in the open. The skies were in hues of blue, the chilly air pierced my skin, the fallen leaves dancing at my feet. It was haven, my haven. People barely went to the place since no one really knew about it, which according to me, was for the best.

Not even he knew the place.

It was a secret I wanted to keep to myself forever. A secret for myself only. A secret that if any other student should know, would ruin my own territory, my place, my refuge. It was a place to escape everything – the people, the stress, the problems, everything. Without it, I’d be long dead. Dead in a way that I wasn’t living – just surviving, just breathing for the sake of doing it.

I walked slowly towards the ledge. The place had no railing of any sort which gave me the freedom. Freedom of choice, that is. I always had the chance to choose whether I would listen to my pained heart or listen to my rational brain. I always had the chance to control myself during the worse days; and I took that chance every single time. How I’d force myself to turn away from the ledge was sometimes a wonder for me.

One foot first then the other. I was standing on the ledge itself once again. My mind was full of thoughts – If not now, then when? I looked down. I was standing ten stories high from the ground and I knew that a fall would instantly kill me. So why hesitate?

I wanted to cling to the side of me that told me that I am loved, supported, needed by the people around me. Leaving the world would be a waste. Leaving the world would just make the people who care for me sad. Just by leaving this wretched world and the ill feelings I had, I’d be passing them onto the people I left. But then again, I am nothing but one of those types of humans I hated – selfish.

Then I made a deal to myself: One more strike is all that it takes.

And there, on the rooftop, I left a paper and on that paper was my own handwriting with words written in French.

To die or not to die?

“Hey, I’m going to play ball with the guys at the gym. I’ll come back later.” He smiled and waved as he got dragged out by his six friends.

I just nodded at him and went back to using my phone. I was looking at picture of art and drawings on Instagram and each one never failed to amaze me. I scanned through the drawings that vary from black and white to radiant colors. Some made with pencils while some made from paint. Others were more on digital art while others preferred traditional art. I loved how each artist had different art styles and yet, all these artists had the same passion – art.

My dream was to be an artist. I wanted to take Visual Arts in college and move to Paris to pursue a career there. I dreamt big and I used to have the motivation of achieving that dream of mine but at that moment, I didn’t even know if I wanted a future, much less a tomorrow.

Then a notification that someone messaged me popped up. It was from a number that wasn’t saved in my phone. I tapped the notification to read the message.

                Not to die.

It took me a while to realize that the person was referring to the paper I left on the rooftop. I panicked. How did they know it was me who wrote the message? Did someone see me up there? How did they get my number?

Who are you?
 

Who I am is not important right now. Why were
you on the ledge? Do you really want to die?

Why would I tell someone I
don’t even know? And what is it to you?

You know me. I just won’t tell you who I am now.
I’m asking you because I care about you.

If you really know me, then site some facts about me.

Your boyfriend is Youngjae. He doesn’t notice what
you’re feeling. You love art and dreams to have a
career in Paris. You learned how to speak French by
yourself. You love chocolate, especially the ones with
Almonds. You have two friends who care about you but
they also don’t know what you’re going through right now.
And lastly, I know that you need someone to talk to
and that’s why I messaged you.

                                                                                                                                Who are you really?

I’ll tell you once you’re back to being the happy you.

                                                                                                                Can you give me atleast a hint on 
                                                                                                                who you are?

I’m a friend/acquaintance of yours. Depends on what
you consider me as.

                                                                                                               

Well then friend of mine, what do I
                                                                                                                call you?
 

               J-flawless. Because I’m flawless.

                                                                                                                J-flawless? Are you Jinyoung or another one
                                                                                                                of You