By Jonell Estillore
Second Year, BSIT

The line was way far longer than that on the counters of all fast food chains I have gone to. Pretty much the same as the irony of that. I just shrugged off the idea of going lunatic and tried to keep myself calm. I had my two arms crossed against my chest and one of my eyebrows raised one after the other got tired and waited for the salesladies to notice the silent manifestation of my dismay. All of them seemed to be busy accommodating their customers in the quickest fashion they can arrive to without the faintest idea that the long line kept on getting longer.

I stood for another five minutes before it was my turn to be attended. I heard the deep sigh of the lady behind me; it was truly a relief every time the person before you moves forward. The saleslady pushed a little smile off her lips and voicelessly greeted me a good evening. It came across my mind to correct her that it won’t be a good evening but explaining to her my thoughts wouldn’t be necessary. What was necessary was the equipment I pointed to her.

“We have a cheaper webcam, Ma’am. Do you want me to show it to you?”

“No need. I want that.”

It was almost an insult to me that she wanted to, in a way, manipulate my plan. Or was it just a belittlement of my capacity to buy an expensive webcam?

“Really, I want that.”

She was succumbed with her loss of argument. She picked what I needed and started examining the condition of the webcam. Words like warranty, no-return-no-exchange, and cash were mentioned but my trail flew off.

“Are you alright, Ma’am?”

That threw me back to reality. She absolutely noticed my teary eyes and my runny nose. I flared a striking look.

“The hell you care!” 

The next minute, I was scurrying on leaving the store with a plastic bag containing the box of the webcam.

The night was apparently gloomy. The coldness of the air was not present just like during the previous nights. Slowly, I walked down the street going to my house. I inserted my right hand on the sidepocket of my jeans and felt the small hidden object. In the local terminology, it is called “balisong”, a folding pocket knife. The alleys were always filled with dangerous individuals who can grab and hold me up, so my dad always reminded me that this knife is no ordinary because it is a safety tool to defend myself. All his life he was teaching me how to be a strong girl. But tonight could be the end of his lectures.

My remaining money was enough for me to stop over a sari-sari store to buy load for my cellphone. Upon receiving my load electronically, I subscribed to the unlimited texting service of my network provider and, for the first time, checked the entirety of my phone book. My mom’s and dad’s numbers took the first and second slots. I came across the names of my girl friends I had way back in high school and the closest friends I currently have in college. There were the names of my cousins, my aunts and uncles, and almost the rest of my relatives who take advantage of the advent of technology.

I reached the lock of the gate to the house when I stumbled upon his name at the end of my list. As I entered the house, I was just stupidly staring at his name and number.

The lights were off. The maids were on a day off. My parents were out of town for a business trip. My only brother was having a great fun with his teammates in basketball. It was as if all of these excuses paved their way for me.

I went to my room, still holding my cell phone one-handedly and clutching the plastic bag. After locking the door, I sat in front of my computer, turned it on and yanked the box out. The specifications were too technical for me to understand. What I only know about what I bought was that it can capture audio and high resolution images. All the while, its price was not a big deal for me. But then again, I simply ought to have one.

I connected to the Internet and opened my chat account. I clicked some buttons and poof! I was able to see my image clearly on the screen. I smiled and my jolly face was abruptly registered on the monitor.

I got some offline messages I did not care to read. I was certain that all of them came from my friends who knew what had transpired just this afternoon.

Suddenly, I received an instant message from a friend asking me if I am fine. I opted not to reply and instead broadcast my video stream to everyone. I spearheaded a group conference where all of us can virtually talk simultaneously in one venue. I messaged everyone this: “Please join me in my sadness. You pretty well know how I feel right now.” Most of my friends in my list accepted my invitation. Three people, five people, ten people. In just a spur of a moment, fifteen people were on the chatroom.

I almost forgot my cell phone! I swiftly pressed some buttons to key in a message.

Friends, pls go online & join my chatroom. Im sad. (Group)

I sent it at once to everyone. I put down my phone on the table and waved happily on the camera as if I was a four-year old kid spotted by a cameraman. The reactions of everyone were terrible.

Ur ok now. Gud!

Hello there, sexy!

So pretty. Good ting ur ok..

Moving on???

 I hear sound. do u hav audio?

I flipped over the keyboard for me to resist the temptation of putting words into the chat. I tested the audio feature of the webcam by saying “Hello everyone. Do you hear me?”.

Their replies were yes. I turned off the speaker for me not to hear whatever they have to say.

I cleared my throat and seeing that everything was in their proper order, as I planned it to be, I wetted my lips before beginning to speak.

“Good evening, everyone. It’s me. Andrea. I hope all of you can hear me.”

With that, the number of people blew up to 30.

“This day happens to best day of my life, so to speak. As you all know, the least thing I was expecting to happen happened just this afternoon.”

I paused for a while and read some of the messages on the chatroom.

Don’t cry andrea.

We’re ready 2 listen. Promise!

More and more interesting one-liners appeared on the screen but I just went on.

“The first time I entered my relationship with him, I swore to myself that I will be the best of what I can be. I swore to myself that I will love him with all my heart, with everything of me. This is so hard for me.

“This afternoon, Jeff approached me differently. He wanted to break up with me. I asked him why but he was just silent.

“This is so frustrating on my part.  I did my very best, you know that, right? I never looked for anything more than him. I gave everything. My whole life became his.

“But now, this is it. This is the end. And for this, I am not happy.”

Tears were flooding my face already. I had to pause for a couple of minutes to let it all out.

Messages after messages were running down the screen. They were asking me to stop crying, to be strong, to end this craziness, but all of them had no use tonight except for being the audience of my act.

“SHUT THE HELL UP! ALL OF YOU!

“Can’t you freakin’ understand how hard this is for me?

“Are you now this stupid not to understand?”

I continued to cry again. I began to be out of words.

I was crying but I afforded to paint a smile on my face. My rosy cheeks became pale.

“Without him, everything is nothing. Nothing is everything.

“Thank you for listening.”

Still crying the goddamn anguish inside of me, I pulled the butterfly knife out of my pocket and unfolded it.

“You see this, everyone?”

I pointed the knife on my legs and slitted it on slowly from right to left. I felt no pain. I was numbed with any physical pain. The only thing I felt at that moment was my sadness.

Then there was blood.

I brought back the knife on the right side of my neck and slitted it on for the second time leaving a deeper mark. More blood gushed out and splattered on the monitor, on the back of the keyboard, and on the tiny lens of the webcam.

For the third time, I excruciatingly cut my neck as harder as I can.

I was still crying.

“I love you, Jeff.” — I wanted to say that sentence. But no more breath went out of my mouth.

 

April 7th, 2009 by paurong Paurong is an 18-year old BSIT sophomore student who loves to think, act, and talk in vacuum.