No Doubts

Story 2

“You got to rise up,

Show them how we roll

On the dance floor.

You got to rise up,

Like a phoenix through the flame.”

-          Rise Up by Savant

We both did well in our exams. The ‘no-talking-to-one-another’ policy of Melanie actually worked, even though I completely debated against the idea. She stated that, “If you got 90% and below in the entrance exams, you are going to suck my balls and I’m going to leave you and hate you all my life.” Like, come on, dude. You are hurting me. But, that policy was worth it. I got at least 93% and she got one percent higher than me.

By exams, I meant that our college universities accepted us. It’s been two years since you went to Canada and you took your Grade 11 and 12 there, leaving me in the Special Science School of Nerds. She kept in touch with me through chat and e-mail, and it made me feel wiggly inside. I love her adorable traits, just like this.

I still kept the apartment and the deck bed we once lived together. Even though I live alone, I still feel Melanie lingering inside the room, smiling and laughing at my stupidity. I even remember the oven she popped open because of the fact she didn’t know how to operate it.

-----

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me you don’t know?!” I snapped at her, thinking of how much this costs and how long our parents will scold us if they knew.

She frowned and snapped back at me. “I thought I could make some brownies for the both of us, but no! It’s supposed to be a fucking surprise, but here you have it,” she pointed at the oven and the black remnants of her exploding brownie, “Surprise.”

-----

I just smiled at the memory and saw the new oven we bought together. That memory ended with me hugging her and her sighing. It is something really memorable and precious.

Going back, college life starts real slow for me. Both Melanie and I took multimedia arts and focused in improving our traditional art. She specialized in sketching in charcoal and pencil, also oil painting while I specialized in sketching in charcoal, as well, watercolour and pointillism art. I had a lot of friends in the third week of school. They just found me mysterious and awkward, to the point that they liked me and accepted me.

But, some of them are fucked-up bullies.

Everyone goes through that at some point in life. It gets worse every time, right? It felt like I wanted to die. My chair’s all broken in the morning, murmurs about me wander throughout the whole school, and everyone started to ignore me until I was left alone. It was like that. I cry every time I reach home. I never wanted this sort of college life. Was I that weird? That awkward?

I left an e-mail for Melanie to read and I can’t help but share the bullying issue I have. I told her every single detail about it. I want her to know and help me overcome this problem. All I ever wanted at that time was her help. I waited and waited. Days passed, more bullies come to the side where my light doesn’t shine. There came a day on where it went to verbal abuse and throwing of crumpled ‘hate’ letters to my desk. When I arrive home, I come to look at my e-mail.

I smile and cry. “There’s nothing again today.”

It was like a never-ending cycle. I felt empty and desperate. I wanted to die and tell all the people that every single bully I have killed a person.

But, most of all, I wanted Melanie to know.

She promised to stand by my side forever, and I swore the same thing to her. But, look at what she gave me; emptiness, sadness and the deep wanting to kill myself. I thought she promised to support my back whenever I need someone to lean on. It was too painful. I took out a cutter, finally deciding on hurting myself slowly, killing myself day by day.

“Bitch, we fucking passed!”

My eyes watered by remembering Melanie’s phone call at the day we both knew our results.

“We are going to be artists and professional at that! We should start some business in both Canada and Philippines! I guarantee that it’s going to be the most beautiful thing I’ll ever see!”

No. This conversation can’t stop me now.

“What?! No, I’m going back there once we are brilliant and well-known. I don’t fucking care how old we are, but I am seriously going to give you a fucking piggy-back ride and bear hugs when I come home.”

I sobbed and felt the cutter slip down from my hands.

“I know you miss me, just wait for me ‘til I arrive home, at our apartment.”

“It’s a promise, Lynne.”

Curling up in my bullied body, I cry at her words and decided to fight through everything until she comes back. I’m never going to lose hope and doubt that she hates me. Maybe she’s going through the same thing and decided to not rely on me because she might think she is troubling. I smile and showed up a fierce face. Let me support myself for now, until she comes back.

Until that day, I’ll try my best on my own.