Proluge: The First Page
823 Words
Today, I was abused by my father again. Like the other times, I never felt any emotions so I didn't had the guts to fight back from his punches and kicks.
But every night, I'm always writing about him getting that abuse instead of me. I wonder what would he feel then?
The thing is, I can never know.
This night is different though. I wrote about him being stabbed in the back for 24 times by a stranger. This stranger was extremely pissed off him and he cannot handle his anger so he just did it.
It's funny how too much anger can kill someone. I've seen it with different TV shows, movies, series, etc.
But what does it actually feel like? What does it feel to be angry that you cannot contain it? Will I do the same as what the stranger did in my writing?
I have so many questions that only my self can answer...but I can't. And I'll probably never know the answer for that.
After all, a person with alexithymia like me can never feel or process emotions no matter how hard I try to.
"Geez, I heard the transferee student is hot."
One of the girl in the hallway mumbled.
"How did you know that? Do you have his name?"
Those two girls talked excitedly as if no one hears them, it's boring.
Looking from the window in the hallway of our school, I saw many people walking around and it's always been a dull moment for me.
I am originally from Spain. However, I have no choice but to move in the Philippines because of what happened. I'm never going back to that hell again.
"Ok, Please introduce yourself."
The teacher said.
"I'm Keen Virtuoso Hernández from Spain. 18 years old so this will be my last year in Highschool."
I heard them mumble something to each other as if the information that I said isn't enough for them.
Honestly, I don't f*****g care.
"Uhmm...Hi! Can I get your number? For research purposes only."
This girl in front of me said then giggled as if there's something funny about what she just said.
I stared at her for a while. Then, gave my phone to her.
"I don't like giving my number. Just save your number on my phone then go."
I said lazily.
Everybody in the classroom had their eyes on us like there is an interesting sport going on.
The girl didn't think a second and typed in her number feeling so accomplished.
She gave me my phone at last. Everybody cheered for her.
"Hmmm...Thank you so much." She smiled.
"Don't thank me. I'll delete it later."
Now everybody laughed at her as if they didn't cheered for her earlier, how ironic.
I feel so numb.
I don't know what to do. I don't have any desire inside of me. I wonder, What if the day will come that I don't know how to live anymore?
I have so many questions that no one can answer. No one.
"Gosh! He really think he's something else, huh? What a cold-hearted prick!"
"I am sure he's a narcissist. I mean, just look at him."
"A total narcissist."
I can hear them whispering to each other as if I can't hear what they are saying.
I have ears, idiots.
I am walking down in the stairs but the only thing that I receive are hate stares.
What a perfect day for my first day of school here.
Everybody summoned to the gymnasium and most of the girls giggled while whispering to each other.
"OMG! He's so hot playing basketball. I don't even care now if he's a cold-hearted lunatic I just want to date him right now."
"He must have a story you know. I can feel it. Ugh! I wanna date him."
Some girls blabbering some nonsense. I honestly don't know what to feel but I can sense their hypocrisy.
Suddenly a girl shouted at me.
"DATE ME KEEN! f*****g DATE ME."
I stared at her blankly. Trying to figure out what's in my head.
Who is she? Why is she so familiar of me?
People started to talk again. They talked about how crazy this girl must be. And how no one knows her or even noticed her in this school.
Everybody conclude that she is from another school because of the uniform that she's wearing while she just stand there staring at me intently with so much intensity.
My heart beats faster than normal as I look at her.
And this is not whatever you're thinking about.
This isn't also about the way she looks at me.
I scanned her totality and it makes my heart beats even more faster.
She...She isn't from here.
And what I mean by that is, she's not from this world. She doesn't belong here.
I KNOW THAT BECAUSE...
I MADE HER.
- Writer
