The Protagonist

I was the protagonist of my own story. Lived my whole life like I, the one special. Believing that just like Harry Potter, I am special. Grieves a thousand pain and bruised my heart to then raised like a Phoenix. But grew up taught you, it was just a thing called desire. The desire to be special and important. The desire that made me point my finger out to the crowd and then shouted, ‘I am not Alien, you are!’

My lung filled with trapped air. Bubbling over my throat emerged to be released. It sneaks out of my mouth and forms unformed shapes as it touches the water. I let the current carried my body away together with the train of young Mantas. One approached me with her curiosity. The scar on her wings as it flapped over me shows that she was an adult now. May carried with her the offspring of her clan. The thirst for oxygen urges me to insanity. Then I raised my hand up and swum up. The surface seems too far to reach. As panic tried to attack me, the water flows over my hand calmed me down. Soon my hand touched the air and my mouth grasps the oxygen like I was in space. My burned lung then choked by the combination of freedom and greed.

The sun was set and Jo insists to come back. The speedboat competed with the sky then the bright deep blue water changed its face. ‘How curious’ I said silently. I was mesmerized by the water and by its ability to reflected the light of the sky. I wonder when would it showed, its true colors.

*

Called me Harlyn, a name I named myself. Nothing wrong with the name my parents gave me as a newborn. But it filled with their hopes and dreams. As I live for myself, sure it must be mine in it.

However, the book was ended. It was blurred and bordered by an unclear line on the side of the circle. It was no longer symmetrical or measurable. I could not identify my emotion, except for the constant pain. It became odder when the pain remains but the reasons cause it was invalidated. I felt nothing when remembering the moment that used to kill me. Those moments I adore to torture myself. Perhaps, it just the trace that left of the nail I take off.

Many doubted, the reason behind my consciousness. Like a drop of water, I wished to show my true color but I was wrong. My color was never important. Separates me as a drop of water only made me unseen. However, I realized, even still a little girl myself, the futility of this life. How was confusing it could be, how secretive it was? And one day, on that morning of December night. When the whole part of the north pole was invisible. Covered by the page of light. I saw her shadows stand mighty with her robes of light. The glimmer of rays portrayed an epic phenomenon of nature. Unidentified for what was absolute to the folks. A mystery among themselves. A mirror could not grasp its own shadows.

The moon would not come on a day like this. The sun was covered by the shade of million clouds. Venus has no brave to show her tails. The wind swirls like a bombardment of the invincible blitz and I stood alone. Hid me behind the warmth of the fireplace and wall of concrete. A bizarre memory glimpses around my head like a colony of bats when the twilight comes. It was squeaking as I observed every inch of her figures. The curve of her wrinkles, her short hair, and the moves of every breath she sighed.

The spark of that rough frozen water fell graciously over her shoulder as she shook the one that covered her hair. A smirk rose on my cheek, sense the freeze touched the skin of her head. Then I leaned my body on the wall and I could see the smoke produced by extremely different temperatures of the human body and the fogs around her. Her tanned skin was in contrast with the blinding snow. A photograph of her existence.

My hand was burned by the cup of hot tea. Left the tear of a red mark on the pale hand of mine. I knew I laughed. This ridiculous pale skin I wished to have as a kid. The complexity laid upon a simple standard of beauty, a shallow one. Now I have it all and yet the beauty perspective of mine had changed. So, forever in my life, I would never be pretty. I wonder, why was it hard to befriend yourself? I also wonder if she knows, the reason I was being here. Or, if she realizes the fact that I existed, next to her and alive. And I do wonder if she was only part of my expectation or an actual human being.

*

I let my burned hand spread its warmth to my cheek, tickling the frozen skin. Through the looks from her eyes, memories of old days glimpsing like the sparks of thousand spotlight. Everything was pin-pointing on me for the price of my decision, for the faith I believe in, for the fact that I was different.

“I once gave you the life my parent gave me. Protected you with all power I have. I died in your hand and I have never regretted it…”

“But today is different. We were no longer share the same faith. What was important for you has nothing to do with me. Now I live only for myself and tomorrow.”

She smiles with the deep on her eyes and unmeasurable thought of hers, I shivered. Wondered if, after all these years, I still could deceive her like before. Otherwise, she had learned how to read deep in me. While all these questions belong only to my mind, I could not sure what was on her.

“At least now, I can answer a few of your questions,” I said again. When we were trapped along with tranquility and question among us. But all she did was shook her head.

I was once thinking that death was a final answer, the end gate for every misery. But, on a young day of mine, I had promised myself, to never passed that gate with sadness on my heart. I have to die with happiness. So, that day when I had her on my side and happiness on my day, I made a stupid decision. Wondered, why did I never regret it? One I regretted was that decision might have left an incurable scar on her heart.

The mark of the knife on my left-arm was warmly hidden under the dragon tattoo I design myself. Hoping that if one day like this comes, it could also warm her heart. But this silence was killing me. My head was full of the wonderous idea of what inside her head. Whether she still loves me or pities me.

“I draw a dragon on it. The pain was no longer exist, on my hand and in my heart. It was long cured. I hope the same thing happens to you so.”

Still silence.

“How are you?” Emma finally whispered

“Not good, but better than yesterday. How about you?” I asked her

“I only remember the part of me was yours. Sometimes I wonder if there was magic between us, or it just a full craps.”

Then my eye locked at hers, beautifully reimagining the old days of ours. There was no way back, but there was a day to remember.

“You are happy, do you?” Emma asked me

“I am, and you are too actually,” I said

“Did I?” she asked me back, hesitantly.

“You just ignore the possibility to be the villain of just an extra.”

“But, I was the protagonist and always be.”

“So do I….” The lock of my eyes on hers got tense.

“It just one of us act on a different story. And even the protagonist itself could be an extra for another story.”

“What?” she shouted unbelievably, her eyebrows raised as high as Himalaya.

“That was all!”

“That was why you killed yourself? to end the story of mine?”

“When did I killed myself? It’s you!” I shouted

“Rubbish!”

laughter from both of us

“We killed each other!”

“We killed each other!”

“I am sorry that I was decided to closed your book.” I want to hold her hand but it was impossible. The cold of that solid object emerged as we tried to touch each other.

“Did you wrote another one?” She whispered,

“ehem kinda..”

“What was the genre?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“What do you mean by ‘don’t know yet?”

“Everything still too blurry Emma!”

“But are you happy? I mean truly happy?”

“Not always, but one thing you didn’t learn yet.”

“Huh?”

“Happiness was not the only matter. The hand of time had taught me that we were born with tons of emotions, not only one but a million. Through the hand of time too, we learn to identify each of them. Some we called ‘Happiness’ other was ‘Sadness’ then ‘Confusion, ‘Worry’, ‘Cheers’, ‘Love’, ‘Depression’, ‘Anxiety’ and more. But each of them was precious since those emotions came to this earth with us. I believe a better life was to accept them just like they were. I choose to live that life.”

“Suicide indeed was a good decision.” She nodded her head

“Not always Emma! It just merely a stroke of luck that we were survived.”

“But I still think that it was a good decision.”

“Why?”

“To end all this pain off course! Then look you are now, reborn eh?!”

I smile, then told her

“The pain was artificial, I found no answer yet but it was never gone. It still there even when I had passed through the death, even when the reason causes that pain invalid, even when the hand of time stole the consciousness. the scar remains”

She shocked

“Then, how could you survived?”

“By accepting it as the journey of my life. you know, in this world there was more that was out of your hand than what’s in. The only one controlled by you was only your state of mind.”

“So, you decided to let go of the uncontrollable variable?”

“Kind of”

“Is it a better world for you then?”

“I enjoy the tranquility” Her eyes locked on the paper that captures a memory of the old day. A bunch of people smiles happily, men and women. among them Emma raised her hand, high up to the air and a smile on her face. She smiles sincerely while the man behind her act like he was confused over the situation. The color that trapped on the paper, evaporated and eaten by time. The blur turned to yellowish and there was a mark on each side of that rectangle, flipped then straightened again.

“Missed that day huh?” Emma wonders,

“Sometimes, but I didn’t want to come back.”

“Why?”

“Because after that day, there was too much to experience and I have enough. I just want to face the future.”

“Harlyn..”

I looked at her

“Thank you for surviving, thank you for living our life the best you can, thank you for being Harlyn”

“Me too, thank you for being Emma. I always love you with all of my heart. You would never disappear, always inside me, and remind me that part of me was you. Let’s meet again now or later.”

“I love you”

*

The speedboat was still in its battle with the wave. Breaks the water and spread its sprinkles all over my face. Jo stared at me, wonder. A naughty smile on his face then showed me that sweet smirk of his. With no word we communicated. Then he grabbed my hand and dragged me to the front side of the speedboat. He laid down there as he gave a sign to the driver to slow it down. I followed him and laid my head on his stomach. Only then I realized that the sun had fully set and the sky shows its shadow. The glimmer of moonlight and flame of stars dominated the night sky.

“Where will we going after this?” Jo asked,

“Somewhere classic,” I said,

“Classic?”

“How about China?”

“Is China classic? It always seems like they live in their own world.”

“But isn’t each of us live in our own world? Inside there, like we were the protagonist of this story. Just some refused to admit it. Even a drop of water has its own story. Separate itself from the crowd, a drop of water will evaporates eventually, then experience more exciting adventure and found their kind. "

“Like those stars?”

I raised my eyebrow,

“Shut up” then he giggled.

“After all, I am the protagonist.”