At the Bench near a Century old Tree, Sartuni Hallway, NCCI

13th of August

Standing bravely and desperately in this empty road sent chills and dread to my soul and exhausting my whole strength just by waiting for an unlucky phenomenon to happen–me being killed by a gunshot from any eyeing snippers from distant buildings and stores.

I had already enough of my miserable life. None even tried to believe my words which the least I can do. Relatives annoyingly dethroned me from having the golden spoon on my mouth and boldly accepted all my luck regardless of me being alive. Colleagues, for no such reason, face their backs on me. And my only regret was trusting and letting them heard my plea.

“I had enough, gentlemen!” I proclaimed, telling those men behind their gun’s scope will hear. “We all know that when a certain man crosses the threshold and walks down the path of this abandoned city would surely face hell in a snap.

“That no matter that state, gender, reason, or rather condition of the man you saw in here, would face his unruly and indecent death.

“How could the state agreed on such order just to save and guard their worthless ego–or themselves?”

Grimace by the taught I formulated; I started walking the only path I see and set aside the ungrateful and mucky clowns and pets of the administration. Too innocent to fulfill the orders of those cowards.

Gunshot after gunshot holed the blank and numb body of mine. Nothing seems injured in my shattered, wounded, bleeding, worn-out body. Crimson red blood splattered the hard, cemented road—a pool of lifeblood gushing through my holed body. My limbs are near to detached from their positions. My neck is worn out, and you can see tissues moving as I’m running out of breath. Eyes crushed due to perfect shots landed on them.

Should I be thankful? It’s the end of me. I could rest in peace and escape the world’s cruelty.

***



Should I be thankful? It’s the end of me having a loud, nosy, wicked, hard-headed woman as an acquaintance. Dealing with her never become my specialty, and I didn’t plead to have her with me every hour of the day. Should I kill myself? Nah. Rev. Scott did his best to save me away from hell.

I became upset since she involved herself as one of the white-uniformed personas here at New Cica College, Institute. She was adding to the number of freshmen students ramming, screaming around the institute’s premises.

“See those persons sulking and asleep even their lessons are ongoing?” Abella pointed to a spot in one of the rooms we’re watching from afar. She’s keenly eyeing two students in their slumber while their dedicated mentor pronounces and continuing the session.

As I want to be left on my own, Abella interrupts and disobeys my rule I gave her before leaving the grounds of the church at Jetkins District.

“Observing from the way the instructor stands and moves that lips, she can win away–”

“Abella,” I cut her by calling her name with a warning. She stopped and left her finger pointed still at the direction of the room she’s pertaining. Her eyes landed on mine. None could be seen or read on them.

“Alright,” she surrendered and sighed after putting her hand down from hanging on those two dimwits now being scolded by their instructor. “I’ll quote, ‘Never, ever disobey my only rule upon leaving this church. Do not approach me or go right after me anywhere New Cica. We’re on our own now. So, don’t meddle with me right after we left this district. I already helped you and I’m done.’ End quote.”

My blood began to boil, and I’m like a mad man now. But the one I should nag is nowhere to be found. Ultimately, I don’t even care about people pestering me around the clock but having Abella just for minutes keeps me thinking of bringing her back to the old her. Cut those devilish kinds of stuff she runs into. That Abella is way tolerable and manageable.

Before standing promptly on my own, I heard her giggling voice behind the tree near where we occupied a while ago.

“Mr. Seclin, I know you. But things are not as you expect them before.” She let me saw her shadow. “Done sulking at a corner and be scared of the demons lurking. Done hiding away the exact sensitivity the heart senses. Done closing the eyes of the prisoned soul that wanted to be able and avenge. Now’s the time to ascend from the ashes.”

I sensed seriousness in Abella’s opinion. After moments of silence, she emerged, and off she went in the opposite direction we tracked entering this site. She’s a woman of words now, different from the one sobbing for help and desperately running after me nine months ago.

She changed a lot.

And I don’t understand her either.