[ COACH ] Fall
[ SONG | ARTIST ] Ringing The Bells For Jimmy | Johnny Cash
[ WATTPAD WORD COUNT ] 1,090 words
For whom does my bell toll? Every tug of the rope, every sweet chime that echoes all over town, who is it all for?
I gripped the rope tight as if I was hanging on for dear life, and then pulled it. A melodic sound came out from the action.
A gust of laughter stole my attention, and I peeked through the small opening of the bell tower. There stood the sun of my skies, the fire of my loins, the love of my life, my Jim! He towered over his lawfully wedded wife. His gaze was transfixed on the woman beside him, and there were crinkles on the side of his emerald eyes. Oh, yes! It is all for him, he who smilingly stood in front of the altar beside the beautiful lady in white.
I pulled the rope once more.
She looked to be in her early twenties-young enough to please my Jim, but old enough to be his wife. The lady, as expected, donned a long white gown that gushingly swayed and flowed to her every movement. The dress hugged her soft curves and flaunted her attractive features-tall figure, narrow hips, slender body, long neck, gracefully thin arms, and her milky white complexion. Behind her veil, I faintly saw her cerulean eyes that were clearer than the afternoon sky, puny nose, her firm lips, and tendrils of golden curls that framed her heart-shaped face.
Her eyes met with my Jim's, and I knew right then and there that he has forgotten everything in his life that included me.
My Jim finally got the last wish he made with me. I can recall the time when he told me about his deepest wish for his future. He just turned a year older that night, and I decided to share my secret space with him as a birthday present-a little spot on the rooftop that I kept dry with the help of old tarpaulins. We were both lying on our backs on the roof of the orphanage we both grew up in.
"I want to be married," he told me as he ran his thin fingers through his auburn hair. His eyes were stormy green, his chin was pointed, and he lifted his head proudly as if to imply his power and control over everyone. Freckles were all over his nose, but it only made him look more handsome.
Jim was seven, I was nine. Yes, we were both young, but we talked about the future as if we had enough knowledge about it.
I figured out what I wanted ever since that night: I won't live life without Jim in it. But life had to get in my way, of course. Isn't that always the case? Jim was taken away from me by a missionary couple who resided in the Luzon area and that was that. We had to part ways. I was left in Mindanao, and he left for Luzon.
I waited for ten years. I never left the orphanage. I looked for ways to be able to stay there; I offered to be a helper, a cook, and caretaker. I tended to the children in the orphanage. I assisted the nuns in the orphanage just so I could stay in the place. I did my best to remain so that Jim would have someone to come back to if ever he decides to return...
But I waited in vain.
I guess Jim's adoptive parents forgot to remind him how important I was in his life. How could he not know that he cannot live life without me? Did he forget that I was the one he ran to whenever the children from the other sector of the orphanage would bully him? And what about the time when he was still two years young, who braved the rain just to grant his wish to hear the knell of the bell? I did!
"I don't want to die without hearing the chime of the bell, Ate," he croaked.
Thunder roared louder and lightning flashed through the windows. The wind blew harder, and the windows angrily slammed against the windowsill. I wore tattered clothes which is the usual. My hair was dripping wet and I was shaking because of the cold. I felt scared and nervous; I had never done anything like it before. He begged me to ring the bells for him. I was burning with fever too, but I disregarded it. Jim was dying, and he must always come first.
I rushed to the bell tower and pulled the rope, ignoring the difficulty of the task. I had a hard time, probably because I merely weighed twenty-one kilograms, and the bell was wrought from heavy alloy- a combination of iron and copper.
I tugged the rope, the image of a fraught Jim enveloped by the thinnest blankets, coughing his heart out drilled in my mind. The loud ding-dong of the bell must have awakened people, for a priest in his nightgown went up the tower and caught me. But I swallowed my pride and begged him to allow me to keep on ringing the bell.
Some days after, my Jim got well, and I brought him to the church to show the priest that what happened that night was not in vain because Jim's life was saved.
After some time, Jim returned, but he brought someone else with him: a woman. I did my best efforts to steal his attention from her, but to no avail. He already gave her his heart. I no longer stood a chance against her...
I waited, I toiled, I cried... all for Jim, but what did he do? He just threw my heart away as if I weighed nothing to him. As if I never played a part in his life. Oh, he smiles at me and he talks to me, but it will never be the same! Not when I know that he came home to another woman.
Who was I? I was never anyone but his sister. How could I live with that? I just couldn't live with that. I loved him first! I was first! I should own him!
But I guess I have to accept that he'll have his happy ever after, just not with me.
The silence about to ensue, the tears that fell every single night, for whom was it all?
I kissed the rope. It's the last thing I know I would see apart from his memories... Memories of which I'd gladly throw away for the sake of his happiness.
For whom would my bell cease to toll?
It would still be for Jim, and only for him...
