If I will live once more and choose…
I won’t choose anything…
…but rather not to live at all! —
Paulo’s leaning against the wall, his back is curved following
the pillow pressed on the wall. It is flowing down to the bed
subsiding with the weight it carries. The room is dark, and all black
pitch is what he sees, but the emotion he has is sadder than his room.
The yellow light outside from the post on the street passes on
the window that lightens inches long on the left side of the room. It’s
the only light that illuminates the room; the linoleum sparkling just
adding a glare, but inside of him, there’s no light at all.
His lashes are wet. His cheeks have runs of water. He even
tastes his tears’ saltiness, but he won’t close his mouth, nor wipe his
face, he’s frozen. He is crying in silence, he mastered crying without
talking or moaning. He doesn’t want people inside the house to hear
him, and also his neighbors who’s an inch wall apart from his room.
The sound of his cry, even heard by anyone won’t help his
pain, not even his mother who will just hit him again. His mother
never understands his pain when he tries to speak about his feelings,
and all she’d say is he’s overacting that it is just nonsense making her
annoyed.
And in his mind, the same sob he always has. I never had a
chance to choose who I could have been. Every single word dagger to
him. I never like how it started— every phrase he sobs on his head is
so hard on his feeling. And I don’t even want to wait much longer for
the ending of it, I want this life to end, as soon as I can!
There is no night he doesn’t grieve about his life. He’s always
emotional and sensitive of something… Those hot boys— His heart
congested when he see those hot boys in his view,
Those handsome men— people love them, their family must be
so proud of them! Luckiness is by their sides! They must be enjoying
their lives! Paulo started to cry again, imagining how those people’s
lives are so amazing, but for him,
Life isn’t enjoying me— He stops speaking and moaning
through his mind, his feeling is hit hard once more imagining how
bad things is going on. His heart tightens so much that causes him to
close his eyes and tear more. It is cursing me! — Low sound comes
out of his mouth after controlling his self to make no sounds at all
while crying, he can’t hold it anymore. His eyes flow water twice on
each eye again, the water flows to his chin and drops on his shirt. He
looks down, still can’t believe how things is hard on him.
It’s like I have a life, but the life itself that is given to me wants
me to suffer then die. What anger and hate this Creator has given to
me and given me bad fate in my life? Is there really a God? Where is
He? Why won’t He answer my prayers?
He suddenly unaware strike himself with his two hands closed
not knowing his sudden anger would hit his legs. He strikes it three
times more because he’s full of eagerness with so much anger that
his prayer is not answered.
ANSWER MY PRAYER!!! YOU DAMN GOD! He strikes more, so
eager, so angry.
MOTHER **** YOU! A prayer he always says every single
night, that, I WANT THIS LIFE TO END! DAMN YOU! KILL ME! NOW!!!
TAKE AWAY MY LIFE, WHAT’S THE USE OF IT IF I’M ALWAYS
PLAYED BY EVERYONE!!!
His last sentence gave him the hardest emotion, from being
strong and so brave shouting at God he is softening because of the
great pain and start crying with sound. He is shaking, he quickly
capped his mouth so no excess sound won’t continue to come out and
he might be heard by someone.
It made him pant while he can’t still understand, why I’m still
alive? Quickly he breathes deep and holds it. Then he put his body
back against the wall and rest his head on the window sill. He
exhales out and inhales deep again to consume the pain back to his
heart. So he can stop it to reach his mouth so he won’t make any
sound crying louder than that he had. He’s worried someone might
hear him grieving. His lips continue to quiver and his eyes can still
deliver channels of tears running, dropping, wetting his shirt.
If my sister Thana, who died when she was a baby able to
survive, then maybe — they would have had enough children. They
wouldn’t think of creating another baby — and for sure, my brother
would still be their youngest child, and they would have been so proud
of hi—
“Ahh!” the pain goes deeper he was unable to control to
screech, hi—m, he’s straight! — HE’S HANDSOME!!!
He closed his eyes that splash the water out and he faces down
feeling dishonor.
“Why have I lived?” He whispers, he touches his mouth again.
His body bends forward, he’s about to fall on the bed, he feels so
weak and giving up. Then he rises again and looks up and leans
against the wall and rests his head again on the window sill.
Unlike me, the exact opposite. Maybe, if I wasn’t able to live in
this world, my family must have been so happy and contented with
their family. Without me, it would have been a peaceful one. But I was
born…
“Ahh!!! Uh!” He quickly covers his mouth with his two hands
pressing it so hard. His hands are terribly shaking, someone might
hear me. I’m scared they’ll kick me again. He must not be heard by
anyone grieving for they’ll just laugh at him or his mother might be
annoyed and kick him again on his head.
What bad fate happened to me that I was born and given a
chance to see and feel the world’s merciless wrath and curse on me?
Every single night the desire to end his pain and life grows stronger,
with the same words coming out of his heart, same feeling of not
wanting to live anymore.
A curse in their family— a black sheep— a gay guy they are
ashamed of! I want to die now! I WISH, I WISH, I was NEVER born in
this world…
Book excerpt
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