"Murderer"

A Short Story By Pamela San Diego

Bea ran as she scream at the peak of the mountain,

“Murderer, you’re a murderer”

I hid for 3 years. Hiding, ashamed and scared for what I have done. I can hear my own voice screaming in my head. Sometimes I drown myself with loud music to silence my soul. My reality is too deafening. I didn’t mean to. She doesn’t deserve to live. She doesn’t even deserve to be born. She’s too weak to handle anything. Bea, my childhood enemy, saw everything. She told everyone about me. She told them how I killed her. She saw how I kidnapped that poor girl and tied her up on bed. By the year 2018, I was already tempted to kill her. I just thought maybe she deserves a chance or maybe at least a beam of hope. I waited patiently as she graduated and turned 21 in 2019. I was stuck in the middle of the plan. Somehow, I hear a voice in my head asking

“What if she gets better? What if she changes? What if she deserves more?”

But then I see her with Bea. She looks happy with her. She looks comfortable and content with Bea. Bea became her world without her even noticing. She has forgotten her real friends. She has forgotten her career. All because of Bea. Bea’s her got-to world when she messes up. She immediately thinks of Bea when she fails at something. She wakes up for Bea. She couldn’t stop making time with her. Bea makes her forget how painful her reality is. She makes her forget for a short moment of time how ugly her life is.

Okay, I've decided. I’m gonna kill her. By the year 2020, she was missing. Bea saw everything but she didn’t ask for help. She saw how i trapped her while she screams in the middle of night asking for help. I couldn’t help myself but to tape her mouth and shave her hair bald. I’ve never done this in my whole life but somehow, I enjoy getting rid of her. I enjoy seeing blood all over her room. I enjoy cutting her skin while her blood drips all over the sheets. I usually put a gallon of water on her chest so I can see her breathing heavily. I make her eat all the unhealthy food and drinks. Maybe in that way she’ll get a heart attack and that would be easy for me to get away from all the mess. At night I beat her head with no mercy. Pushes her head on that green wall until she passes out. Sometimes I hear her whisper in the middle of the night saying

“Is there any much worse than this? I hope someone finds me”

But then there’s Bea helping her survive. Making her forget what she really deserves. Making her happy temporarily. Making her feel she’s extraordinary, undeniably gorgeous and most of all loved. She spoils her with superficial attention. She makes her feel alive while I make her feel numb. She gets high. She helps her cope the way people cannot imagine. I was watching her all day despite all the things I did. I asked her

“How can you live like this? You’re disgusting” she replied without an eye contact

“I’m not living, I have no choice but to breathe. Make it stop”

“I will kill you, you know that. It’s just a matter of time”

“Why not now? What time are you waiting? You told me I don’t deserve to live and to be born but why are you still giving me time?”

My world froze as if my blood stopped flowing through my veins. It felt like my heart paused for a second. It felt like I was watching my soul fade away. I couldn’t forget her face when she asked me blankly. Staring her for a second looks like she doesn’t even feel anything. It takes a minute to deem her eyes and see how weak she is and how she gets easily overwhelmed.I answered her and told her

“I had my what ifs. What if you get better? What if you change? What if you deserve more?”

I pay attention to how the light travels through her eyes as she always avoids eye contact. As if she’s hiding something. As if she’s ashamed and scared for what she has done. I can hear her own voice scream in her head. Sometimes she drowns herself with loud music to silence her soul. As she trembles on her deafening reality, she mumbled on me

“I don’t deserve to live. I don’t even deserve to be born. I saw my life fall apart and I became helpless. Needy. Dependent. I isolated myself in my own room and tied myself to bed. I attempted to kill myself by the year 2018 but I thought maybe there’s at least a beam of hope. I waited patiently as I graduated and turned 21 in 2019. I was stuck in the middle of the plan. I thought of my greatest what if. What if I get better? What if I change? What if I deserve more?”

I caught myself crying while I listened to her and told me everything. She speaks as if she’s uncertain if someone is listening. She speaks with fear in every word she spills. Her voice breaks the more she throws a question.

She continued speaking while my thoughts came in and out of my head. “By the year 2020, I’ve decided. I couldn’t help myself but to tape my mouth and shave my hair bald. I’ve never done this in my whole life but somehow, I enjoy getting rid of myself. I enjoy seeing blood all over my room. I enjoy cutting my skin while my blood drips all over the sheets. I usually put a gallon of water on my chest so I can feel myself breathing heavily. I make myself eat all the unhealthy food and drinks. Maybe in that way I’ll get a heart attack and that would be easy for me to get away from all the mess. At night I beat my head with no mercy. Pushes my head on that green wall until I pass out. Sometimes I whisper in the middle of the night asking if there’s much worse than this? I hope someone finds me” She sounds familiar. She’s me.

I was already holding a nylon rope but then I daydreamed. It saved me. It helped me survive. It made me forget what I really deserve. It made me happy temporarily. It made me feel I’m extraordinary, undeniably gorgeous and most of all loved. Daydreaming spoils me with superficial attention. It makes me feel alive while this world makes me feel numb. I get high daydreaming. It helps me cope in ways people cannot imagine. I became comfortable and content with daydreaming. Daydreaming became my world without me even noticing. I’ve forgotten my real friends. I've forgotten my career. All because of daydreaming. Daydreaming became my go-to world when I mess up. I wake up to daydream. I couldn’t stop making time to daydream. It makes me forget how painful my reality is. It makes me forget for a short moment of time how ugly my life is. My life has become a series of daydreams for survival. Will this end? I can’t live like this forever. I’m disgusting.

By the year 2022, I forgot how to live. I miss living as me. I often ask myself when did I lose myself? When did it all begin? Did I start losing myself during childhood? Did I start losing myself when I graduated? Or maybe I never lost anyone. I never lost myself. Cause maybe after all I haven’t met myself yet. I’ve learned to live as someone else as I grow up. I don’t tell my story that much cause I’m uncertain if someone’s willing to listen. I usually speak with fear in every word I spill because I’m scared to be unaccepted. I easily get overwhelmed with the way people look at me and the way they judge me. I grew weak. I grew fragile to handle the smallest obstacles. I grew incompetent.

I decided to hike to Mt. Pulag. One of the highest mountains in the Philippines. As I hike and feel the heat of the sun, I can’t help myself but ponder. How can I save myself? How can I live? How do I get to choose to breathe happily? How can I stop this series of daydreams? But then I realized I needed to get rid of what I have built in my head. I need to unlearn the things that don't help me grow. I need to let go of the person that I have become. I surely need to kill her. That girl who only lives in her head. That girl who never tries to live her real life. That girl who’s too dependent on people around her. That girl who believed she was weak and fragile to overcome even the smallest obstacles. That girl who easily gets overwhelmed. That girl who has an imaginary self and world. I need to kill her to meet the real me. I need to kill her to see what the real world has. Finally, I’ve reached the peak of Mt. Pulag but I wasn’t smiling at all. Unlike the people who reached the destination, they were all holding their phones to record where they were. I rest my legs on the grass while I carelessly drink my water. I didn’t get my phone to take a picture. I was just there sitting. Resting. Mourning. Grieving. I thanked Bea for saving me for the past three years. She became my coping mechanism. She made me happy for a while, but I can’t live while I dream of someone I’m not. I couldn’t explain how thankful I am to be loved by someone I only created in my mind. My heart burns with fire but feels cold whenever I get a glimpse of my reality. Bea has become my happiest and saddest memory. The fact that I love Bea more than myself and my real life is too heart wrenching. How do I move on to something that doesn’t exist? How do I heal from something that isn’t true?

Finally, I let Bea go. She’s my daydream world. She kept me safe from suicide. If it weren’t because of my daydreaming, I would’ve been dead by now. But it’s funny how I needed to kill the one who saved me from suicide. Daydreaming saved me from suicide but kept me from living. Daydreaming kept my heart pumping but at the same time made my soul slowly fade away. Daydreaming made me feel loved but also made me forget I really am loved. It made me forget that I don’t need to make up stories in my head just to feel loved and adored. Just to feel validated. Daydreaming made me feel someone’s listening but at the same time it made me lose my real friends.

This is how life proved to me that not all the people who reached their destination celebrate. Some mourn for the things they’ve lost. Some get scared of entering a new chapter in life. Not all people who reach success are smiling. Some are dying of loneliness. Not all people who graduated are living the best of their life. Some lose themselves as they’ve reached freedom.

So this is how it feels like to be unhidden. I feel ashamed and scared for what I have done and for the three years I wasted. I hear a voice screaming at the peak of the mountain “Murderer. I’m a murderer”.