OBSIDIAN ISSUE #1: PUSHED

FORTY TWO

It was a sleepless night to me. Not because of the agony in my feet from the yesterday's unforgivable run. Hindi rin sa pagod, o sa mumurahing apartelle na aking tinutuluyan. For the whole life of dawn, sirang plaka sa payapa ang buong lamay ng kahapon. The exclaims and faces of insult were very much alive and yet, my feelings were dead.

Habang tumatagal ay natanto ko rin kung bakit. When I have contemplated and asked myself if I have done the right thing, isang sagot ang walang pag-aalinlangan na umukit. Guilt. And to get out of it, I thought giving my nod to the espousal would warrant me a lighter load. Sa huli, pinaintindi sa akin na sumang-ayon man ako o hindi, people are still going to say something mean about it. Even with your better intentions, negative judgements will never cease especially if they have already deduced you through your past mistakes. I, myself, have even judged my own choices from how it keeps me awake at night.

And if I have really done the right thing, why won't it give me peace? Bakit parang may kulang pa rin? Tama ba talaga ang ginawa ko? If I have done otherwise, would it have felt better than this?

Gumapang ang panibagong buhay sa loob ng silid ngunit hindi agad ako umahon. And because it was a hopeless fall for a slumber, I decided to rise at ten in the morning. I took a shower and change into my plain white vneck, distressed skinny jeans and black ankle-cut sneakers. My black cap nested on my waist-long braided hair. Pagkasara sa maliit na bag, pumihit ako para sana sa pinto ngunit natuldukan ang balak nang matanaw ang repleksyon sa salamin.

I have never looked this lifeless... and cold. Tila maputlang estatwa ng santo na lumuluha ng dugo ang aking mukha. Ang dati'y mala rosas na labi ay pinapanawan na ng kulay. I resembled a soul lending a body from someone who is no longer interested in living anymore.

I sighed. Gamit ang itim na sunnies ay tinakpan ko ang puyat at lungkot sa mga mata. I didn't bother with breakfast and just grabbed a coffee in the nearest shop. Bawat lamon ng mga hakbang ko ay lamig ng hangin ang nalalanghap mula sa dalamhati ng kalangitan.

"Mukhang sanay na po kayo ma'am, a. Asintadong asintado. Nakagamit na kayo noon?"

Kinakasa ko ang magasin ng kalibre habang sinasalubong ang tanong na ito ng instructor. I ran out of plans to fulfill for today maliban sa kumuha ng ticket pabalik ng Negros. But for some unknown reason, I found myself shaping bullet holes in a firing range.

"Ngayon lang," I coldly said, wala sa sarili. I was too enthralled on snapping the glock.

"Ear muffs po?" he offered.

"No need, thank you." Isa pang kasa ay nanumbalik ako sa aking posisyon. Both feet wide apart from each other and my hands on their appropriate space on the firearm.

My eyes squinted sharply, unti unting nag-focus ang paningin sa umaapoy na pula sa gitna ng shooting target na para bang patak ng dugo sa itim na budhi. Without a single word from me, the instructor instinctively adjusted the target farther from my near sight. I sucked in a deep breath and held the air in my gut. Walang pinagbago sa panliliit ng mga mata ko at sa nagtitiim kong bagang, dalawang magkasunod na bala ang pinakawalan.

The impact had almost shot me backwards ngunit nanlaban ako sa puwersa. Tatlo pang magkakasunod na pagputok ang aking pinalaya. The trigger was pulled still by my finger in utmost desperation even when I know that the bullets are finished. Huminga ako nang malalim para ikulong ang iritasyon sa bilis maubos ng bala, kinukunutan ng noo ang target sa harap. My ears are ringing from the wake of the deafening sound.

"Galing!..." The instructor stepped on my side, nakahalukiphip at ngiting sinusuri ang nagasgas na pulang hukay sa gitna.

"Baguhan ka ba talaga? In this range, it's almost too impossible that you were able to hit the same target three consecutive shots!"