TNP's 1st One-Shot Story Writing Contest Pt. 2

Entry #196

Unsung Songs of Realities

by wldk

The sky tells me of an approaching rain as I see through the glass with the view outside swiftly switches; this ride might be a cozy one. The sun seems to be feeling relived by now as it pronounces its farewell as the water-soaked clouds slowly covers it and her task for today is ending as the crescent moon waits in line to occupy her position.

The signage "2nd" had again invaded my eye view. I take out my phone from my backpack together with the earphones and plugged it on both of my ears as I search through the playlist. I have been doing this for quite a while, but my playlist seemed to not contain any perfect song. I clicked on "Road", again with high hopes. In a few minutes, my eyes had closed.

This reality welcomed me with a music in its most high volume. This version's performance just ended. I felt thirsty and searched for my water bottle but I can't find my backpack and realized that the place is merely illuminated with light coming from the small slit-like holes above my head. I finally spotted a water bottle and drank on it. I was wearing a really short skirt and my body felt light. Three women appeared in front of me wearing the same outfit as mine but not totally alike just in match. I just noticed that I was also holding a mic the same exact moment I saw theirs but the place started spinning and everything finally went dark; darker than the place we were in.

This time, my body felt heavy which makes whatever this thing I am laying on, even softer. I opened my eyes and tried getting out of bed however, the piano in front of me quickly gets my attention. I stood up and laid my fingers on the right keys, with my right thumb being in the middle C. My mind was being filled with many songs to play but I wanted to play the song that had served as the entrance leading to this story. Again, I closed my eyes as my finger played the first note, precedes by the second and continued up until the very last. I played it excellently, as expected from the fingers of this persona. I tried pulling the happiness all over my chest but my eyes opened and saw an expensive-looking pink-colored purse. It was not zipped and was filled with selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors. The waves of sadness had swallowed my wholeness.

I catch my breath and wake up in the same place for the nth time. That song seemed to be serving the feeling of being in ecstasy at first. It really did feel that way, but I was overdosed. I searched for another song as I search for another story to put my high hopes on. "Gitara;" the song I refused to choose a long time ago.

In this paralleled story, having a genre between fiction and nonfiction, the outcome is not what I saw coming. This version seemed to have not taken care of herself for days. My hair felt greasy and it felt like I was laying on this bed the whole month. This room, I owned but not actually, have been messier and had been worse than the room I actually owned. I tried getting up and looked for the switch to turn the lights on, but I cannot even open my eyes properly. They are swollen. I am sure it was not because it was punched or else, I might be in the police station by now. This period might have been five years after my eight grade and exactly two years after I said "yes" in this possibility and said "no" in the real reality. I looked around and spotted a portrait of two individuals in a monochromatic filter. I finally chose this song after it had patiently convinced me to choose it for so long but the love has seemed to be faded in the end. It had burnt so brightly; it overused its power and had now died out.

I wiped the tear that had fallen on my left eye. It had been better to draw our lines in such a way that it would not cross each other and be asymptomatic rather than to make those both lines meet each other and be a mere intersecting lines in the end. You have imprinted your farewell into this song, maybe it's now time for me to also do my part; burying the events that might had branched if only I had taught my coward self to trust.

This journey might not let me end up to any destination at all. I had been playing music in this playlist but all of them turned out to be the opposite of how beautiful and attracting their title were. It was tiring and draining how I watch every high hope crumple as I was sent back. With the raging furious inside me, I threw my phone hardly against the floor of this vehicle or whatever it really is. All I wanted right now is to finally land at something or somewhere that when I woke up, I would not feel any motion of being inside a bus. So, I picked up my phone and clicked on "exit," but it cannot be clicked, the screen might not be working already. I tried clicking it again and again and a song was accidentally clicked.

It's a white room; I am in a white room. I can recognize the color of the paint used in this room although my vision has still not adjusted and was still blurry. I tried getting up but an arm stopped me. I can trace some forms of people who were walking towards me. I also hear sounds but it was not clear just like how it is underwater. But then I suddenly felt arms being wrapped around me; I was being hugged. It has been a long time since I had experienced such warmth. I am so near at forgetting such feeling but today as I was being held again so tightly, happiness knocks upon my chest to seek approval of its entry but at the same time I could hear the footsteps of sadness inside me because it has really been a long time since I had worn such armor and hid my vulnerability behind it. This can be the perfect song I am looking for but I can also feel the churning and it only means one thing. I held the back of the shoulders of the person in front of me even tighter as I whisper my words of pleading to be saved from the tidal wave of time that is about to hit where I stand. Like what had happened with every song I played, I drowned.

If it would still be the same place, I beg for my eyes to stay shut so I could never see the phone and be tempted to look for another song. But my eyes did recognize the waking of the sun. I was about to smash the phone again, but the churning came back and in an instant, I was again in the white room. I can see my body laying down on the bed. I tried to get closer, but I suddenly felt heaviness inside me, I can feel what this person feels towards me. I can feel the weight of sadness and longing to hear my voice again. The churning came back again, and I am now in the school. The small bare hands that I have once held have no more traces, with this 17-year-old self of my sister. I can feel how bothered she is right now, she seemed to be in rushing mode. I run towards her next class, but I tripped and as I collected the stuffs of this persona on the ground, I saw a wallet. It's probably owned by my sister. I picked it up and accidentally saw the picture inside it; a picture that had captured our genuinely stretched out smiles that is near to being a laughter. The places churns and churns as I smoothly transition into different persons and slowly, the other side of the life I have taken is slowly being clear to my vision. For its last, the place churns and I am back with the phone on my hands as the music reaches its end. I finally understood the signage. I acted as a passenger for quite a while when in fact, I have the final say on where this journey will lead to; I am the driver as well. The bus stopped in front of the hospital. As I stepped out from it, I completely understand what it means; letting go of the other songs inside my playlist, letting my "what-if's" to slip away from my grasp and letting the imperfection of the reality I had first formulated to be a factor of its unique beauty. I whispered to myself: "It is not about the perfect song; I only need a free verse."