Die or Marry

Die or marry me…

Words with meaning. Simple. Unbearable. Connotes love, hate, and selfishness. Words I last heard from Joanna, my would-have-been bride.

I wasn't sure what I felt for Joanna. Confused was the word, I guess. I didn't know if I call it love. I was glad to be with her, but I felt no firmament. I longed to see her, but not always. I sometimes dreamed of her in my deep sleep, but not in my reverie. Was it love?

Joanna liked to talk about having a family of our own. She asked me when we are going to marry. She even begged me to marry her. I said no word, but a mere nod. Compassion could only be the reason to marry her. I didn't feel that love would grow in me. However, I thought that maybe I would learn to love her the way the moon loves the earth.

The time came when she would promenade in the aisle flanked with chrysanthemums, roses, and daisies. The flowers resembled the beauty that she manifested. But, that notion became lamentation, like flowers withered away as time went by.

Joanna's world sunk into her deepest sorrow. One night, she got a rope thick enough to twist her ivory neck. She tied the rope to the chandelier over the ceiling of her luxurious room. She set the flowery-cushioned chair below the dangling rope. She climbed into the chair and coiled the rope around her neck. She didn't hesitate. She leaped, the rope tightened on her neck. As death was approaching her, regrets never entered her mind. She didn't fear death. Her hands twisted with hate. She choked. Her helpless body shook in the air. There was no way to delay. And, no chance to save her life. Her brown eyes almost surged out due to the rope's grip. Her face turned purple. Finally, she gave up her last breath. She gave up the love that she feels for me. She surrendered her soul.

From the day I saw her cold body hanging in her bedroom, I've been having nightmares of her. And tonight, the cold breeze of her breath touches my face drenched with sweat. The undying smell of her perfume has always been in the air that surrounds me, whenever and wherever I go. The light bulb in my bedroom sparked once, twice, and then shattered and shrilled. Now, dark is engulfing me, but the light outside the house is discernible. The window hinges in and out, in and out, and slams until broken. I want to run but I'm frozen, not of absolute fear but because she is squeezing me. I could feel her cold arms around my body. I hear a sweet whisper, but full of doom, that echoes in my brain.

"You die or you marry me…"