The Fall

The moon started to look up, leaving the mountaintops behind, moving slowly to its zenith. I was staring at her gleaming orb right here in the window. I just thought of becoming a moon- wherein everyone has her attention. The moon's brightness is a source of light for some and has a tranquil beauty everyone loves. The moon, when you stare at it, is a solace for any sort of fears and doubts. 

'Is everything fine?' my husband asked me. He was caressing my hair through his hands. 

Ignoring his presence, I just made a curt nod. My pupils were still fixed on the moon, scrutinizing the beauty within her. 

If I were a moon, I would travel from hither to thither. I would cross the other horizon freely. I would traverse the breadth of earth from air surface to land. I would soar cloud-high. 

I was in the middle of my imagination. It has happened to me, always. 

My husband took a deep breath. 

"Just call me if you need something. I will keep the door in the next room slightly ajar", he said. He then bid goodbye and kissed me on the forehead. 

I still stood rooted to the spot where my feet were placed earlier, leaning my arms on the window seat, letting the wild wind tousle my hair and slapped me back and forth. 

I heard my husband close the door as gently as he could. Nah, we didn't have misunderstandings or recent fights. We neither argued lately. But the case was, I never heard myself talking to him for a year. I couldn't, as much as I tried myself. Not because I don't want to, but I don't have reasons. 

When the time I woke up from the coma, I lived with him on this black, desolate, and isolated island. I didn't know my name nor the place where I came from, only that I got married to John Buenavista 5 years ago. John is ten years older than me. He took good care of me from the moment I laid on the bed, and heretofore. 

But, John has something in the eye I couldn't describe. If he was telling a lie or keeping a secret, which I didn't know. The moment I opened my eyes, I couldn't remember any glimpse of yesterday- only John and the other person I have known for a long time. I tried to remember my past, yet it always led to a pounding headache. I ended with a long, loud belch. 

He was looking at me earnestly-I couldn't tell if he pitied me. 

"Where am I?" I said with a tear streaming from my eyes. 

"John, why am I here? Did something happen to me?"

Instead of answering me, he just stared at me for a few minutes, letting me cry. 

That was our first contact, and I never got a chance to talk to John anymore. 

 I was on the bed one breezy night. The clock on the wall chimed at half past 10. And if you would ask me if I were with John. No, we have separate beds and separate rooms. So, I have been contemplating; the what-to-dos to get out from here. But I didn't know where to go. And I didn't want to put myself in peril, either. I outweighed the pros and cons but couldn't figure out where else I could go. I didn't know if we do have neighbors nearby. John had forbidden me to wander outside. 

"The moment you step outside, I will kill you," said John with a threatening look when I tried to sneak out one day. 

When I remember those words, I couldn't help but my heart to thud madly. 

I couldn't see any way out. But. 

I hurried myself to go to the next room. It is John's room to be specific. John was out early this morning to run some errands. The room was big and wide. There was a king-size bed standing on the right side of the room. There were gray-colored curtains hung on either side of the window. I, then allowed my eyes to venture around the vicinity of the room. There, I saw another door. I slowly traipsed until I was about to touch the doorknob when somewhere I heard a jumble of sounds of footsteps. My heart skipped a beat. I felt my lungs have emptied with blood-its starving. I got scared. What if John caught me here sneaking out of his room? Would he kill me? What if he found out that I am looking for something? Those thoughts added fear to my heart. But instead of standing still on the floor, I immediately took a clandestine peek towards the window to see the owner of those footsteps. It is John. His black suit perfectly fitted his body. He was a beau ideal of a handsome man in fictional stories. I was out of my mind. I was oblivious that he was in front of me already. 

What are you doing here, Jean?

Ahm... No words were coming out of my mouth. I just stood blankly with mouth agape. 

 "I...I just thought of coming here to see you because..."

"Because?" John interrupted.

"Because I want to borrow the book you finished reading yesterday. If that would be okay?" I answered with no second thoughts because that was the truth. I envied him for buying books anytime and then reading them. I saw him reading the 1984 book by Paulo Coelho yesterday, and his reactions while concurrently reading and sipping a cup of coffee convinced me to come to him to borrow it. 

John kept silent. He never talked and just turned his back on me. After a while, he suddenly faced me with his hand on his forehead. Anger percolated on his face, and I felt a burning furnace swallowing me. I felt hot.

"I told you not to enter my room if I am not around. I bet you didn't knock on the door. Did you?" 

"I knocked. But the door was standing ajar. So I entered the room because maybe you are in the comfort room, you won't hear me anyway."

I didn't notice a tear coming out from my eyes- one by one until it was not-a-holding-back-tear crying; but a straight-up bawling. I then noticed John was acting irresolute. He wiped my tears, held my shoulders, and hugged me. Maybe the very last thing he could do.

"Look! I am sorry, Jean. I got carried away. I didn't mean to hurt you." He motioned me to sit on his bed. He then let his shoulder lean my head on. And I fell asleep. 

Chapter 3

The sound of alarm awakened me. I remember I was in John's room. But wait. I was already in my room. And the hand of the clock reminded me that it was already half past 8 in the morning. So I am sleeping for about 10 hours. But why is it that my hands and feet are chained. My body are full of bruise. I cannot move. I could feel the pain in every part of my nerves.

John....John.....I am now screaming from the top of my lungs. No one hears my cry. 

I couldn't remember what had happened again yesterday. And it's killing me slowly. The only thing that would remind me of my identity was the picture frame hanging in the center corner of my room. It is a visage of a happily married young man and woman. The smile that marred their faces was genuine, and even their eyes were smiling. There's no spot of sadness drawn over their faces but a feeling of comfort and love. I looked at it earnestly-letting my thoughts flawed by the memory of yesterday I couldn't see vividly. 

Then there is a sudden voice from the outside. 

I leaned my ears on the wall to hear what they were talking about.

"Guard the room well. Inform me immediately if she wakes up", a voice of a man from the outside.

"Yes, Sir"

I could sense that the door is about to open, so I pretended to sleep. The man went near to where I laid down, and I got the chance to punch him on the face. I ran and ran. And then I bumped into someone. I could feel the pain coming from the needle he injects in my arms. I fell asleep.

"No, you cheated on me, John. Why did you do this to me? I gave up everything for you. You know that. Even my soul John. You are killing me. Maybe, love for you is just an understatement. I embrace your whole being- your flaws and imperfections. Were those not enough for you? Am I not enough? Tell me, John. What on earth is happening to you? Do I know the man I shared my vow with? You are killing me, John. You are killing me. You are pushing me to my boiling point!" I was shouting from the tip of my lungs.

"Jean, look! I am sorry."

 He tried to hug me yet, but I refused.

"I love you! I always do, but things have gone wrong between us lately. And I thought that was the nicest thing to do. I realized that it hurts you, that's why I am coming back Jean for you-for us. I am the luckiest man on earth for having you as my wife. Living without you is like living a sordid life."

"Did you say the nicest thing, John?"

 I didn't let him finish talking.

"What is nice to you? Is that the only word in your voca

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bulary? 

Or have you heard about loyalty and respect? 

Ah. I forgot. You've never gotten any respect and loyalty. Not even to yourself.----"

He stared at me with his killer eyes. He never expected those words I'd thrown to him. He thought I am pretty good with what he was doing. That I would forgive him no matter what. But whose wife would say that everything is copacetic after her husband did something erroneous? I bet not a single soul of a well-state mind. 

Right that moment, without a word, he escaped. I was left behind feeling piqued and hurt. A fit of zilch ran through my veins then tears scalding my cheek. I was crying my heart out. My mind was too fogged by pain. I heard nothing but an incessant voice saying "I hate you, John. You will regret hurting me. I don't deserve this pain. I am better than this". And then I went to our kitchen, got a knife, and ended my life. 

A knock on the door rescued me from that terrible dream. I felt a pang of pain in my chest. I hardly breathe- I didn't know the reason, either. Maybe, that dream seemed a reality. If it could be true, I wished I would never wake up again. 

 I realized I drifted to sleep again from snatching a moment to trying to recall the roots of my past. It was too good that I had never felt ravenous lately- But I am not on a diet though. I immediately wrenched my body out of the bed to see whosoever-that-man-who-saved-me. But I cannot move. I didn't know why I have bruised. I didn't know what happened yesterday. The door bang to open and a man appeared. It was John. By looking at his face, I remember my dream. The man was still in the back of my mind, I could figure out his likeness with the one in front of me. A total resemblance. I wanted to confront him head-on. But my heart and mind would likely insist.

"Is this the right time?" I thought. "No. A dream is only a dream, it would impossible for a dream to come true. But. Sometimes, dreams are the pages of the story written from your past. And dreams..."

I was back to my normal thinking when John spoke.

"Jean? Are you okay? I've been talking to you but you aren't listening" He said with a grim on his face.

"Yes. Do you need something, John?" I asked with a tone of irritation. 

"Are you ....uhh.. doing okay, more or less?" He remarked then seemed to hesitate.

"More or less, "I said shortly

"All right. You know, I have here the book that you wanted to borrow last time. And I guessed you remembered something. Don't you?"

 I didn't answer.

He handed me the book. I stretched my right hand a bit enough to take it. 

He was about to leave the room when I called him by his name. 

"John....ah. thank you for this." I smiled at him.

He then kissed me on the forehead then turned his back. I looked at the book in my hand. Just once in ages, I felt elated. It might be hard to believe, but today felt like one of the better days. I could finally read a book. I went straight to my bed, and stretched out my legs, with a book in my hands. As I flipped the pages of the book, it felt like it happened before. It sounded deja vu. 

"Was I a reader before? Does reading is our way of unwinding with John." 

I thought. "He has burgeoning books on his shelf. Were those mine before? I concurred, I never happened to touch any of those. Were those the reasons why John forbid me to come into his room?"

Negative thoughts. Scratch that. "Just start reading, Jean."

 I read the acknowledgments and the below captured my attention. It was a letter from John and the first line made me shed a single tear. 

October 8, 2020

 Dear Jean, 

 Today is your 8th death anniversary. If you would ask me if I am doing okay? I don't know what would be my answer. Everything has become pointless since you left. Even though I have Ruth in my life, there is always a black hole in my heart. 

Do you remember Ruth? She's been feeling guilty until now. We even have separate beds. We barely talk. She had an accident three days after your funeral. She suffered from depression. She's been in a coma for 8 years already. But she stayed beside me because she wanted to keep her promise to you that she will take good care of me. Even though she forgets everything, the only memory she remembers is you and me. She told me that maybe, this is her punishment. She's always in her room- crying. I tried to reach her, but she knew that my heart only belongs to you. 

She's doing everything Jean, as a purchase indemnity for everything she did to you. All she wants is for you to forgive her. 

Jean, how are you? I missed your smile, your beautiful face, and everything about you. 

Life is so damned hard. I regretted my whole life, for hurting you, Jean. However, please know that I love you so much, Jean. Believe me, because that is true. If you were given a chance to live again, I will surely do my very best to show how much I love you. 

Living today is never the same as living yesterday with you. Everything is futile. But I am trying Jean. I am trying to live well. However, without you, the world is so lonely. 

I miss, miss, miss you!

I can only hope that you are doing better, Jean. I love you. 

        Love, 

         John

 After all this time, I was living in my ideal world. After all this time, I was living in a lie. Could someone explain to me what was happening? No. I was not dead and it would never be happening. John was out of his mind. He knew that I was talking to him now and then. Things have gone wrong but I would stay with him, no matter what. He knew that. He knew that the woman he got married to has a heart- a heart of gold. Whatever he does, he knew I would forgive him. Because everyone deserves second chances. John deserved it. He knew from the very beginning that I loved him. I loved him with all my heart. I would surely take all the risks for him. That made him fall in love with me over and over again. But. Sometimes, love couldn't survive on its own. When pain covered the golden heart, love dies. I remembered that day-when pain suffocated my whole being. I forgot to forgive. I forgot what second chances mean. I forgot love. I forgot John in the first place. 

Someone was sobbing beside me. It was Ruth, holding the book, John handed me earlier. I wanted to slap her right into her face but I realized she was there helping me the whole time. She was reading the letter John had written me. Tears fell from her eyes. I knew she suffered too. She suffered too much. I could feel her pain. So this was the reason why I was still alive in their world- to give me an answer to all the questions booming in my head. After 8 years I finally found the one I was looking at in John's room. It was a letter found in one of my favorite books- 1984. A letter that would explain everything. Succinct but true. A letter that would answer-- An answer that would help me in getting out from this island, and from Ruth and John's nightmare. And an answer that would help them to live a new life- healthy and free.

I knew they felt sorry for hurting me. How amazing what a little truthful confrontation could do for the soul. 

And that was already enough for me. I loved them both- John as my husband and Ruth as my best friend.

Tonight as I was looking outside right here in the window, the moon was shining brightly. Her gleaming orb invited me to come home. 

There were way too many stars in a too bright, out-of-focus sky, that would guard me along the way. 

I now prepared myself to get out of my little dread-filled cocoon and flew away to get a life of my own. 

Some things are meant to happen. Sometimes it could make us realize that there are things that we need to let go of. If we stay for a reason- stay for a while but not too long. We should learn how to let go if it is time to go. We all deserved to live happily. 

And everything went black.

John's POV

After the death of Jean, I am with Ruth. She stood by me for 8 years. But she had an accident and in coma. She has two (2) personalities. She acts like Jean who got mad at me when she found out that I cheated on her. She will become wild and kills everyone she will meet. So I prepared an injection for her to fall asleep. When she wakes up, she acts like Ruth. She has a good heart. Everyday is a battle for me to face.