It was the middle of the weekday and nearing the closing time of the shop. The only two customers who were browsing had gone already, allowing Norm to slouch in his chair. He stared at the desk calendar, fumbling the edges of the paper. “Only two more days ’til Friday. Just a little bit more. I can do this.”
Fridays are for clubbing, he said one time. Everybody seem to be always looking forward for Fridays and the weekends, at least those who’s participating in what they call the rat race. Fridays, weekends, vacations, are social constructs used to give people something to look forward to in order to distract them from noticing how companies overwork and oppress them.
I am among those people, but soon, soon I’ll be out of here.
Charles dropped by that Wednesday night to pick up mom’s belongings that he claimed was left for him. The espresso machine that mom especially took care of, the cream La-Z-boy recliner, the antique clock that was passed down by grandmother, and the old microwave with that was already there before I was even born- all of it was able to fit in the truck Charles drove.
Charles checked the living room once again for things that he might want to take, he roamed around until he stopped by the wall where framed photos hung.
He clicked his tongue, facing me with a glare. “You won’t even burn a single incense for mom! What kind of daughter are you?”
“What kinds of daughters are there?”
“Insensitive bitch.”
I sighed. Charles has always been rude, cussing and all. “Well, burning incense is pointless anyway.”
“Burning incense will help guide mom to heaven safely.”
“I think they just want to earn money. Charles, mom is dead. It’s all in the past now.”
Now that I’ve thought of it, the moment we do something, it becomes the past quicker than a blink of an eye. Me sipping an orange juice on the couch just a second ago has become the past, Charles placing back the frame he held for a while is in the past now. The present is extremely brief.
“It’s only been a couple of months Sabine! You’re such a—you know what?”
“No.”
Groaning, Charles dramatically put up his hand as if to surrender. “I’m going. You be happy living alone until you die.”
“Thank you,” I smiled, was about to wish him the same but remembered that he has a family and would most likely not die alone.
Once he was gone, slamming the door as he went, I walked to the kitchen and placed the glass of juice on the sink. By the dining table, a crumpled brown envelope lay, reminding me of the unfortunate event last Monday.
After my shift that day, Sophie took me to her favorite pizzeria just near the local grocery for dinner. She insisted on paying as usual and then walked me home. There weren’t much people on the streets as it was already nine in the evening and so Sophie filled the silence of the street with her stories- about how she accidentally called her science teacher “mom”, that time when she went cliff diving and almost died, and the cat who followed her home and kept on meowing outside until she took it in.
By the time we reached my doorstep, Sophie stopped talking but lingered as I searched for the key in my bag. Turning to her, I was going to ask if she needed anything but I had a hard time talking when I caught sight of her twinkling eyes. Though I was probably hallucinating. Nevertheless, it was captivating and I couldn’t stop staring at those forest green eyes made darker by the lack of lamp post near my house.
Slowly, Sophie leaned in until our faces are inches away from each other. A warm hand was placed on my right cheek. Her lips touched mine. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t breathe.
When she pulled away, though her hand still held my cheek, I had a hard time opening my eyes. “Do you like it?”
My face felt hot, everywhere felt hot and my heartbeat won’t slow down. The wave of feelings hit me and I’ve never felt this much in a long time. “No. I’m angry.” Glancing down at those lips that was on mine seconds ago, the heat intensified. My body is telling me to punch her, but after paying for my dinner, I don’t think I should.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Her head tilted slightly to one side.
“I’m angry at your lips.” That was the source. I knew that much as every time I look at her lips the burning intensified.
Sophie touched her lips lightly. “I’m–I’m sorry?”
“You should be.”
“I am.”
“Good.” I nodded, turned around and entered the house without saying goodbye. It was a proper response for angering me though it is quite rude.
That night, after Sophie left, I examined what happened and after hours of deliberating and replaying, I came to the conclusion that I was not in fact angry. Sure my body felt hot and my heart was beating quick, but the tightness in my jaw and fist which was always there when angry, was absent.
So, why?
I have thought– I knew, that there was a possibility that I just had a heart attack. I have read that sometimes people have heart attacks but tend to shrug it off as something else since it’s not always obvious. And so the next day, early in the morning, I went to the hospital to have an ECG after notifying Mrs. Clair that I could not take the morning shift.
The process was tedious, but after hours of waiting, the results came out. It was negative. I consulted the doctor about it to make sure but he was adamant that it was not a heart attack. I asked for another test but he insisted that it was unnecessary as everything was “normal.” How can anything be normal when I was practically wheezing and my heart was beating like I just had a morning run?
I needed a second opinion.
Author’s note
If you’re bored and looking for a series to watch, you should check out TEENAGE BOUNTY HUNTERS! It’s amazing! (+ there’s gayness HAHA). I binged it in one go!
Comment