Revenge

"Love can be unconditional but not happiness."

The day I took revenge, everything was as normal as ever.

I stared upwards. The sun was on the edge of the building in front of me, the diffraction pattern of the sunlight was glorious. It was 4pm. Humid but there was light breeze caressing my face. I just liked this.

I passed by here every evening since I moved here 2 years ago. Of course many things had happened and many irreversible changes had been made, but life went on. This evening, everything was normal except the diffraction pattern of the sunlight was slightly different.

That’s why I lifted my head and gazed upwards, something must be wrong with the masterpiece of God I never believed in.

A figure was standing at the edge of the top of the building. He/she was wearing a black t-shirt with a faded jeans.

I lifted my hand to cover my eyes from the ferocious evening sunlight, trying to focus on what I saw. Was that figure smiling? Was that figure whining? I was not sure but he/she definitely drew a lot of people here. The crowds were doing exactly what I did, also trying to know what had happened.

My eyes were sore and dry, I thought everyone here had exactly the same problem. What on earth was she doing?

Suddenly, everyone drew a deep breath, that figure had moved forward, now with one leg dangling at the edge of the building. The figure moved forward, slowly as if there were an invisible path on the air.

Now, everyone stopped their chattering, they just watched. I watched too but I was distracted by an irritating mosquito. I turned away, trying to find that mosquito that gave me an itchy back. Then, I saw. Stunned, dumbfounded, terrified and frozen expressions from all the people around me.

Trying to make sense what had happened, I turned to the direction everyone was pointing. That figure was now airborne, falling like a piece of broken brunch. Distant sirens were approaching.

Thud!!! A light thud woke up everyone. All hell broke loose, some people were scurrying away from that woman, who was now lying motionlessly on the ground. Some people were screaming, some were resuming their chattering, but most of them just stood there, petrified perhaps.

The blood was oozing out from his mouth, while other pedestrians swiftly shifted their gaze away, I stared intently into it. I know who had previously owned that body. It’s me. I was dead, on spot, with no pain and glee felt.

X

So, I was finally dead. I looked at me, somberly, tears were welling in my eyes. But was I sore? I felt no pain and no emotion. For so long time, I had wanted to kill myself, in front of my own eyes. Ever since I knew I couldn’t love, my heart was growing weaker and my mind was growing wicker everyday. Every morning when I stared into the mirror, I could see some dark spots had gradually protruded from my temple. I understood it was a sign of wickedness.

I once loved somebody madly, if not unconditionally. I killed myself because of her and buried myself under layers of guilt. Then I emerged as a new-born child. I could no longer remember who was my old self and neither could I recognize my new self.

After embracing the ambiguous and the ubiquitous identity, I brought myself to love that person. Trying to give her everything, I had killed myself several times. Afraid of being unearthed, each time, I buried myself at the different places.

Did I say prayer to myself when I murdered myself brutally? I didn’t think so. How did I kill myself first time? Was it hanging myself in a church, hoping myself could be reincarnated in the church and be blessed forever?

Nonono, that was the second time right? Oh ya, I swallowed potassium cyanide the very last time I killed myself. Why cyanide? Maybe that’s the most painless way to die, I had been gone through a lot, I couldn’t imagine if death also came in agony and piercing pain.

However, every time I committed suicide, I was always alone. There were no witnesses, no shouting, no scrambling, no prayers. Therefore this time, I chose to die in front of the crowd, hoping that person was there.

And I was right. That person was there, smoking cigarettes graciously. I approached and confronted that person. I could sense that the person was not intimidated at all. That person looked at me in my eyes and uttered nothing. Then, that person just walked away with no qualms and guilt.

Maybe that person was right. Love perhaps was unconditional but happiness was not. The day I took revenge, I should have thought about it carefully. Now the corpse was just beside me, but I was not amused, no sense of triumph at all. What were all these revenge plans?

I killed myself for what? For that person? How naïve I was!!! I drew a deep breath, trying to make sense of everything. I was too befuddled to think, maybe all I needed was a heavy downpour to rinse my new self.

And the rain did come.

Soon after that person left, there’s a heavy downpour followed by melancholic drizzle. The corpse was not there anymore, blood was there. That person was not here anymore, scent was still there, memory still intact. Watching the blood being washed away by the drizzle, another suicide plan formed in my mind.

This time, I killed myself for nobody.