A Glimpse of Bliss

The warmth coming from the blood orange circle at the horizon failed to calm me down this time. Instead, I feel burns in my chest. I want to scream at the universe, but all that could spoke from me is only the dark tears on my cheek. The strong wind blows my long white beautiful dress, oh this nice decent dress, what a waste! I try to recall how I ended up here, on the rooftop of my apartment building, staring down the road.

“Today was supposed to be the best day of my life,” I whisper to myself.

Looking up to the orange sky, I thought I saw a face flashing there at the air. I close my eyes to get rid of it, but it dragged me even deeper and deeper to several images that once stored in my head. I remember the way those brown eyes blinked slowly as the maple leaves dropped at the background. That gaze never fails to pin me right where I stand. The cold breeze blew his smooth blonde hair; oh I remember how much I love to touch that hair. His cold hands grabbed my jaw then gently pull it closer to his. The first encounter of our lips happens there beneath the maple tree right behind our school yard, at a similar dawn as now. Josh, the first boy I fell in love with, is my own cousin.

I remember the first time his body hugged me tightly when I cried and screamed out loud at the moment I found the corpse of my mother. His hug had magically made me stop crying immediately. We were just 10 years old back then, but I never forgot what happened when he hugged me. At first, I heard his heart beat in a rushing stagnancy then suddenly it felt like I was dreaming. I saw a red balloon floating to the sky then a kid in a stripes shirt push my chest hardly, it hurts. I saw Josh’s father making out with a woman in a purple dress, who is certainly not Aunt Jane. I saw Aunt Jane crying in a kitchen, in a bathroom, in a car, everywhere, and it took me a couple years to finally realize that it was Josh’s memory that I have been seeing. Since then, hugging him was like a drug for me. Witnessing his misery made me feel better somehow. So every time I feel sad, I always come to Josh and asked him to hug me. It was like when you saw someone with heavy burdens on his shoulder, you suddenly feel like the burden on your shoulder become less heavy.

Aunt Jane always told us to look out for each other, and we did, a little too much actually. I did not have the guts to tell Josh that I have been seeing his memory every time we hug, until that morning on Josh’s seventeenth birthday. The night before is the first time we let our bare body feel each other’s warmth, unite into one. That day, I told him everything. He freaked out, wore his black shirt in a rush, said ‘You’re sick!’ then banged the door from the outside. I ran after him, but right when I got out the room, it was not only him that I found, but also Aunt Jane. Her eyes were swollen. Turned out, she was there at the back of the door, listening to everything for the entire night. She kicked me out of the house on the evening, gave me some money also a piece of paper filled with phone numbers and addresses outside the town. Josh? He did not even try to stop her.

That happened five years ago and I’ve never hugged anyone ever again since then... until an hour ago, in the altar, with a man named Jedd. Well, here I am now on the rooftop of my apartment building, staring down the road.

 Ayunda Nurvitasari 

Sometimes her lips refused to be opened. Sometimes her voice stucked in her throat; left out many things unspoken. Her eyes have been trying their best at capturing moments, but her mind is a real sucker; that often it seems like most of her memories were stolen. She figured the notion ‘We Write To Taste Life Twice’ since she was seven, which is when her fingers had finally decided to take over –spreading words in a constant motion, protecting memories from being forgotten, and keeping away tasteful thoughts from a definite oblivion.