The Calling

The Calling 
Trigger warning: suicide

I stare at the ceiling blankly. The clock is ticking for how many long I cannot recall, but I’m aware that the day has turned anew. Any moment now my mother will surely yell to me to take a bath from her kitchen. Aside from her loud, shrieking voice, she is actually very tender, though. I wake from the bed and head below. Without saying anything to my mother who is busy preparing breakfast, I walk to the bathroom. In the dining room, I bite the buttered bread bit by bit, feeling a bit bothered by the dashing smell of my mother’s newly washed hair. It reminds me of some fruity drinks I usually buy near the park. After I finish eating, I tell my mom good-bye, and she gives me a kiss on my forehead. “Back home soon, you hear?” she said. I smile. Perhaps she is worried of why I always get home late lately. I open my mouth to speak, but I quickly shut it. Tightly I hug her and leave.

        I stop at the bus station. I forget to bring my phone, but that doesn’t really matter. It’s probably... no longer useful anyway. Just like my friends always tell me, the smartphone doesn’t suit my image. Maybe they’re right. Of course, I’m not suitable with those elite things. They know best, they do. An old, rusty bus stops right in front of me. I take a step in. Wearing this dress, too. I’m sure they’ll say it doesn’t suit me at all, but right now I want to feel pretty, you know? I wish I don’t stumble upon them, or anyone from my high school, really. They must’ve felt disgusted upon seeing me in this outfit.

The bus stops at my destination and I get off it. I let my feet guide me, and I arrive at that very place—a huge red bridge which stretches across the sea. I often visit this place when I’m feeling down or lonely or mad. I really like staying here until late. The sea and the gentle breeze somehow manage to calm me. My hand moves to slide my shoes off. I climb the blooshot steel railing. I stand on top of it. The breeze is as soothing as ever, and I can hear people shouting and cars honking, but the sea is calling my name. I respond to the calling. Unlike my friends, maybe the sea likes me wearing this white dress.