Disclaimer: I do not own Slamdunk. I know that. This is just for formalities.. hehe.. Libre naman ang mangarap diba?
I would also like to thank autumnchloe and simmic for reviewing… I'm glad that the first person point of view works for you simmic, and for autumnchloe I believe your question has already been answered or rather has been successfully guessed…
Do You See Me?
Here we go again, you call my name. With a "Hey" you greet me as the school opens its gates. I am too late. The crowd already swallows you. It is hard to see you, and soon I see you not at all, and so I walk, walk alone. "There you are!" You yell in my ears with both of your hands on my shoulders, trying to weigh them down.
"It's easy to get lost in a crowd like this. Especially when the festival's just started. So don't let go of my hand." I raised my hand to hold up my pinky finger, my head tilted to one side, indicating that you too should do what I had just done. Briefly glancing at the crowd for a second, you hesitantly bring your finger at level with mine. "Promise." I wrapped my finger around yours and start to break through the crowd. Then we ourselves are lost in it.
Amidst the sea with which we started to drown ourselves in, I could barely see your face, but that rare moment when you peered from out the waves was enough for me to see you give a wary glance now and then, here and there, so I released my hold on you, the crowd filling in the space that grew between us, and soon, we would be lost, lost alone.
Yet you made the crowd part, squeezed through the minute space in between them that they were still reluctant to give, and with a firm grip, your pinky finger found itself back to mine. "I told you not to let go." You turned your back against me, becoming a shield to the rampage of bodies, shoes, bags, and everything in between. Gone was the hesitation from your eyes, that this hold was a depiction of weakness. I saw the crowd disappear before you; maybe you no longer cared for their thoughts nor their words.
Then it was my turn to catch the syndrome. I felt blood rush to my cheeks, more than it needed, the temperature in and around me rise, but your earlier sacrifice crossed my eyes, and I felt all the symptoms dissipate to the blue sky. And soon I was all alone, alone with you.
I felt a tap on my shoulder, and it was you holding a mask that covered your face. As you switched from happy to sad, merry to mad, you made me want to get one, so that I too could overlap the sad with this mask. So that I too could look happy when truly I am laced with sad. So that I could be angry at you, even though you surely know that I can only reach disappointment, and be what? Sad. Enough of this word, its existence makes me sad.
I grab for myself a mask of happiness, while again you grab yet another. I see you wear the mask of confusion. Cleary right now, you are the reflection to what I am inside. Confused. But before I could ask you to switch with me, the students who guard this booth waved us away with their hands, and you waste no time in complaining.
"You think I really liked those masks? I have better ones." I wonder, when you said that, did you think before you said it? Or did it simply flow out of your mouth? As I think about it more and more, my head slowly begins to nod in agreement. "See, she agrees with me." With one last childlike taunt, you drag me away from the house of masks, from the masks that I so long for, and yet I know I have better ones, like what you said, they are with me every single hour, minute, second, millisecond of the day. Yes, I agree that I have better masks, so good, even you cannot see past them.
Another short chapter from me… short but longer than the previous ones, guess I am warming up to letting the story build itself, rather than planning it out. I hope it is not too confusing with the present, past, present, thing I am going with in here… anyways, thanks for reading and please drop by a review! Thank you again and again…
