The whole flow smacked me right on my forehead. How could she leave me just like this? She's the one who started everything. She's the one who gave me the thought of being loved again. Now she juts packed her things and walked out of my life just like that. Life indeed is a bitch.
As I sit stoned in my cubicle, my mind wandered endlessly to that uncompromising region of memories. The smoke ain't doing me no good for I still saw her at every corner of my room. I took a puff from the damn smoke. Then my eyes focused on a bottle of Formalin I stole from my school's lab when I was 11. I never understood why my mind instructed me to take that solution. But right then, I knew. I held the bottle in my hand. I loosen the cap. The stinging smell started to fill the empty space left by my cigarette smoke.
"Take a sip, mannn". I jolted. Who the heck was that?
"Who said that?" I posted a question even though I knew I was alone in the room. There was silence. It seemed to me that my mind was playing games with me.
"Aww, come onn. You're just a big failure. If you're not such a butthead, why the hell would she left you?" came the reply. Suddenly, a figure materialized in front of me. Wait a minute! That guy looked just like me! He's smoking and wearing a white shirt and white Bermuda shorts. His shirt was written 'Heaven can kiss my S'. There's a shining oracle on his head like the one you'd see in cartoons when a character died. He took a whiff from his cig.
"Who the heck are you?" I asekd him. Am I dead yet? I put down the bottle and tightened the cap back.
"I'm you friend, mannn". He came closer to me. He put his right hand on my shoulder and then took the bottle from me. He loosened the cap and took a couple of gulps. Then he closed his eyes.
"1989. Good year. This is good shit, man. Where you got this shit from?". Then he took a step back and walked around my room like he was drunk. He stopped when he was in front of me.
"Wanna try?" he held his hand ilke he was passing the bottle to me. I was still stunned by his presence so I tried to grab the bottle.
"Get that thing offa him!" came another voice shouting in. Another person who looked like me materialized. He was wearing a black shirt along with a black 501 jeans. He got a spike bangle on his left wrist, just like I do! And he got little horns on his forehead. Now what the heck is going on around here?
"Awww, shit. Big bro is here again. Why don't you mind your fucking business, huh?" said the white one.
"Why don't I shove this bottle up your ass?" replied the black one. I noticed the black one's eyes were dark and mysterious. His voice was a bit growlish. Now those 2 strangers were fighting over the bottle of Formalin.
"Who ARE you guys?" Both of them stopped fighting. The black one who was on top, stood up. The white one toook another sip off the solution and a puff from his cigarette. He lied on his back. Drunk by the Formalin.
"Sorry for barging in like this. This is a very confusing matter so I'm going to make it simple. I am the projection of your darker side. That asshole over there is the projection of your good side..." the black one's sentence was cut by the white one.
"Asshole? You call me an asshole? Let me tell you something mister. I ain't.." Thud! the black one kicked the white one and fainted him. Or maybe the white one was too drunk by the Formalin.
"I'm sorry. Anyway, we're a part of you" continued the black one.
"We'ce been together since you were born. Now, our identity supposed to be a secret. I'm supposed to give you whispers to do bad things while that asshole over there supposed to stop me. But lately he became more and more moody and next thing I know, I have to stop him from making you do BAD things. Anyway, can I have a butt?" I took the pack on my desk and handed it to him.
"Surya?" I asked him. He nodded. He lighted the cigarette and sat on the edge of my table.
(to be continued...hahaha)
