Coming Soon

Prologue

I could feel the sea breeze brushing against my face. The roaring sea waves crashing into the cliffs. The clouds hanging so low that I could almost touch them. I could hear the chirps of the seagulls in the distance. I saw the small whirlpools being born at the foot of the small cliffs and submerging into itself. In that moment all I wished to feel was the fierceness of the sea. Maybe that could help me calm the storms I feel inside myself.

As I walked down the cliff, I could feel the sea breeze not touching my face. I could feel the calmness I felt moments ago, leaving my body. I could feel the anxiety kicking in. I rushed to the beach to savor the calmness a little more. It was a chilly October morning. With the temperature that low, there was no one. I was happy that I was away from all the voices of people and the city. As I reached the beach, I took my shoes and jacket off. I wanted to feel the cold pierce my skin. 

The sand feels cold against my feet. The cool breeze sent shivers down my spine. I went up close to the sea and sat there. I could watch the sea for hours without any worry of the world. I wanted to feel the cold water. But then it struck me, if something were to happen to me, what would happen to my family? Who would take care of them?

“What has become of you?” I asked myself loudly. “Why are you here? For what exactly?” All I heard was the deafening silence with the sound of the sea in the background. I kept asking myself until I felt a tear running down my face. I got the answer I needed. All I wanted to do in that moment was to cry. As loud as I could and for as long as I could.

It must have been quarter past 12 when I walked back to my home. As I entered my home, I could feel the eyes on my back. No one asks me where I have been. It’s been a long time since anyone has asked me. I love my family. With everything that has happened, they think asking me would hurt me more. But what if I want them to ask me about me? 

I am tired. Tired of being strong and standing tall. There have been days when all I wanted to do was to put my head in my mother’s lap and cry myself out. I wanted to hug my father and feel his hand on my head. I am tired of crying myself to sleep. I am tired of looking tired and wishing maybe my life was a little different. 

It’s been a year and I still hurt the same.