GLEE

DANCE.

100th post...

Celebrating the 100th post with the winning of Manchester United against Manchester City!! wooohoo...

When They Say They are of What They were

I straighten my t-shirt, my boss, Ms. Hepburn was busy talking to her phone. I sign-languaged her to go and eat my lunch. I walked through the crowded reception area of the art center: parents saying "good job" and "that's nice" as such and of course parents who were sending their child(ren) for the first time and their excitement plus anxiety. I fished my way through, out of the main entrance, turned right and after passing through a shop I made another right turn and my legs in my loose jeans find their way out of the mall and into an open space.

As I was flipping open my "oxygen" box, I took in the view in front of me - the central park. The lake, the pavement for joggers and the bustling traffic that seemed endless. I lighted up my "oxygen" stick. Inhaled deep and let out an enormous sum of carbon dioxide. I like inhaling the "oxygen". It gives me sometime to think about a lot of things around me. One of those things was how carefree I was ages ago, in time line that is almost erased in the past.

I keep telling myself that I am still carefree, but at the back of my mind a thousand and one voices telling me that I am not and will never be able to have that again. It's not that I regretted the present, but rather I cherish the past and hope for the best in the near future. I am given many chances in life and miracle events that change my life and the path that its going and I am able to say that I am still learning to grow up. When it comes to think of it, when they say they are of what they were, it is not a bad thing at all. Its a pleasant lesson in disguise indeed.

I puffed out the final set of CO2, squashed the stick on a tray provided and started walking to the art center.

The things I did to her and her abortion story.

I sat there clueless, expected but still clueless of what to say and how to react. She confessed. She confessed for god sake! One of those confession that sticks in your head forever. I can't believe it but she did it. She DID it big time!! My imagination runs wild.

I slowly pick up the fork to the left of my white shiny porcelain plate with some gourmet dish at the center that is too beautiful to be consumed. The smell of charcoal-grilled steak filled my nostril as I inhale vigorously the air into my lung. She keeps on talking as if I am okay with what she just told me. I look with a blink of an eye to the pepper bottle in front of me and starting to calculate the motion I am about to act out. I slowly put my fork down. Sway my left hand passing the plate and grab the pepper bottle and with one hand I loosen the cover of the bottle. My right hand trace the knife on the right side of the plate, estimating how deep should this thing go into her left cheek. After taking into account the time frame, I decided to do something even nastier. I pass her the pepper bottle. She takes it with a puzzled face, put it down on the right side of her plate and rest her right palm on the table. While she is uttering words that I can't comprehend I hold the knife with my right palm and glue my eyes at the pepper bottle and grab the fork. She calls my name a few times but I am lost and high in my own world. This madness has to end now. With the strength of a woman, skilfully I drive the fork on top of her right palm on the table push it hard so that the fork splits open her flesh press it hard, with one palm hoping it gets through the thick wooden table. Blood splashes all over her white Vercase short dress. She screams and everyone looks at her and some start to stand to help her. Her left palm starting to move to her right palm, reflects of moving the pain away. This is when I sway the knife I hold with my right palm, with a bit of exhaling sound from my mouth, sink the knife into her left cheek and the knife does what it do best, ripping apart her right cheek too and pull it off as fast as I can. She screams even louder with bubbles and thick red liquid dripping down her chin. I see everything in slow motion, a man is running towards me from my right side, I know what he's going to do, he's taking me down. I took the pepper bottle after releasing my left hand from the fork and as he is getting too close I sway the bottle and the cap goes of letting the pepper fly free and into his eyes. He, too, screams. I smile with satisfaction in my eyes before the security of the restaurant get the hold of me.

I exhaled, if only that can happen, I am the first one to do that to her. I stood up, slapped her on the face - full swing. And as if that wasn't enough, I took the red wine glass on the table and splashed it to her face and wet her bust short white dress, smashed the wine glass on her right palm on the table and it shattered, cursed her with words I only use for special occasion, like this one. Called her a murderer slut for the last time, picked up my LV bag and walked away as if nothing had happened. As I walked away, a few waiters rushed to the table and the sound of removed pieces of glasses made me smile the whole day!