...

1 views

A Series of Myths and Legends: The Face of A Loved One
There's a japanese legend that says your present face is the face of the one you loved in your past life.

The lady next to me nods as she smiles admiringly.

We take a deep breathe and plunge into the abyss.

I remember that dream a few days ago. Although, that was the only scene I remembered. Her face remained blurry despite all my efforts to decrypt it.

I open eyes as my make-up artist finishes cleaning my face.

The runway show was a success. As always, everyone's eyes are on me. I am the star of the show and they love me for that.

What a beautiful life.

Or that's what I wish to say.

I've always been insecured of how I looked. Since I was a kid, people's eyes had set on me. I thought something was wrong. They assured me that I was pure and gorgeous and that made me happy.

But that came from men who only wanted to sexually harrass me.

Because of that, a lot of people, mostly women, bully me. They'd try to hit me and deform my face and body. They'd fail as the boys would defend me.

I look like a bitch, don't I? Do you think I like it? No. I hate it. I hate it all!

If only I wasn't born with this face, gorgeous or ugly, bad things wouldn't happen. If only I wasn't born with this body, voluptuous or chubby, bad things wouldn't happen.

I've hated myself. I always had. My face, bosy, everything.

One day, my mom left my dad and me. My dad was extremey sick to the point we needed money for the hospital. All my relatives ignored and forgot us.

I needed to make money. As anyone can expect, I did something that only this body can do.

Haha. My body can't do it.

Only the men.

But it's for the money. It's all worth it.

The runway show is a prostitute bar. I've been working here for a few months now. My mom is getting back to shape thanks to the money.

My make-up artist applies a new make-up design. I inhale and exhale deeply waiting for another storm to strike.

People also said something about a rainbow coming after the storm.

I don't feel like money is a rainbow. It's still another storm.

But, I could care less. I've hated myself anyways. I wanted proper attention but never got it. At the very least, one of the men I had slept with will remember me when I pass.

After putting my make-up on, I open my eyes, staring directly at the mirror.

For the first time, I looked at myself as someone beautiful.

Everything is natural. My face looks as if there was no make-up. A beautiful smile makes me blush.

"You're so beautiful. I aspire to make you mine."

The manager slams on the table. He's getting angry at me spacing out. I look at the mirror again. I look different. I was the definite opposite of that lady I saw.

I put on some sexy clothes and start the runway.

As I perform, the image of that lady is all I can see. She was so beautiful. I can't forget her.

Who was she?

The men cheer extremely loud as guards hold some of them down. One of them shouts to turn red for him when we are alone.

I touch my face and it was hot. I was probably blushing. Why wouldn't I? That lady was pretty.

When the men finally calm down, I was signaled to continue. After the performance, one man "rented" me. We head to a room.

I may have made lots of money but I'm not happy. I'm just unhappy as I was before. I always had been even though I am able to provide for my parents.

The man comes to me and takes my hand. He lets me sit on the bed. I just look at the floor and prepare for another embarrassing night.

All I can feel is a warm gesture.

Warm?

I look at my shoulders and saw the man covering me with his suit. The man was my dad's brother.

He sits down a bit far away from me.

He told me that my dad passed away this morning since he never accepted any treatment. He wondered how I got the money. When he told my dad, he refused since then.

I sob them cry as my uncle pats my head. He tells me to dress up. He gets his son's shirt and shorts as I dress up.

He tells me my dad's last message for me.

"Love yourself, my dear. No money can amount to the happiness you can have. You are so beautiful and yet you wasted your time on a prostitue bar. I failed as a father so as I pass away, I just wanted you to know that I love you for who you are and you should too."

After I dress up, my uncle heads out as he locks the door. He tells me beforehand to just wait.

I lay on the bed for a while and close my eyes.

The lady appears next to me again.

"It's because of you, I loved myself. I did things beneficial for you and me despite all my dark pasts."

She tells me. I feel so reassured.

I touch her face. The scene looks like we are on top of a building.

"You know. I remembered you asking me for a certain request. I thought you were just crazy but hey, I love you for that. And you know, this world is pretty messed up now."

She leans closer to me.

"I'm glad you like My wedding gift. Sorry you had to wait for years."

She smiles as I walk to her closer. Her face becomes clearer now.

"Do you really like my small gift?"

I nod as I say, "A small gift from my favorite person. I love it so much. But, are you sure you're ready?"

She nods and smiles. I smile as well.

We kiss. As we let go, the face was now clear.

She was that lady in the mirror.

Now that I thought of it, that was what I looked like before all these prostitute shits.

Was this my past life?

"Remember my dear, if we do not meet in the next life, please love yourself as much as you love me," she caresses my face.

"Will you, too?" I ask her. She nods and kisses me... one last time.

We hold hands, take a deep breathe, look at each other, and jumped.

I jolt up the bed as police officers surround me. My uncle was talking to someone on the radio. I forgot that he was a police officer.

Turns out that this bar is an illegal one. When my dad figured out my secret, he later called my uncle.

A few days after the bar is taken down, all prostitutes were taken to a psychologist.

It was my turn. I wait for the psychologist to come. She arrives. We start the process. After that, I spot a certain newspaper article. I was about to leave when I decided to ask about that.

She tells me that this was a famous case of suicide back in the 1990s. A lesbian couple committed a double suicide during their wedding day. The faces were shown there.

She kept this paper article because one lover looked like her. She looks at me then to the paper then back to me. I also look at her then to the paper then at her.

The other lover looked like me, she said. She shows me a mirror. It really does.

We stare at the paper as we blush and avoid each other's gazes.

She then tells me later on that my tests results might conclude of self hate. She reassures me that I should learn to love myself.

Since I had that dream, I already am starting the process.

She hold my right cheek as we blush. As she held on, I can feel her warmness taking over me.

My thoughts show the scene wherein that lady and I jumped to our deaths. I stare at her as she stares back.

A guard comes in and and goes out again as he witnesses what we were doing. The psychologist stops holding me and looks away while blushing. I blush and giggle. She gives me her number but not a work-related one. I accept as I leave the room.

We've dated for years now and today's our wedding.

You know, I've always thought life is just a cycle from life to death.

~~~

© livinghEartimes

© All Rights Reserved