Monday; November 11,2013 (A Short Story by Deniza Alarcon Sabio)

She became numb, though she felt everything there was to feel that was painful. She lays in bed, frozen, as if time meant nothing anymore. All she wanted was for it to end. She slowly lingered her eyes back and forth for a sign. As she blinked, she wished for another image to appear, anything but the images of pain rushing through her as they played along on her white walls and her acoustic ceiling as if they were projections of broken memories. She refused to move. From heaving to steadily breathing, she wanted nothing more than the simple way to end it all. She thought to herself,

"I. Am. Nothing." 

As she refused to move forward with the life she once knew before he, she continuously repeated, "I. Am. Nothing." With the world against her, she stayed silent. In a world with so much noise, silence was her escape, but also her downfall.

As she breathed, stared, and blinked, her mind was at a state where it wanted to stop thinking, however her heart was the antagonist fighting to keep the pain alive. As she fought her tears from falling, her heart was breaking even more. She sat to think of all the pain he has caused her, all the love that may have been all a hoax. However, she remained faithful forever because the way she learned about love was through trial and error, that love will never be perfect, that you must try and try again.

As she slowly made her last breath, last stare, and last slow blink, her phone rang. Finally her gaze moved from the white walls and her acoustic ceiling to the floor where her phone was scattered under all the mess she had left the night before. She had thirty seconds to make the decision of whether enough was enough. Thirty seconds to get away from continuing to fight or giving up. Thirty seconds to determine whether this was what she really wanted. She slowly reached for her phone, listening to her ringtone, "Everything looks perfect from far away, come down now, but we'll stay." But like the imperfections of her ceiling, she wondered:

"These ceilings look the way they look because of the imperfections they are trying to hide. With ceilings so huge, sanding down to make things perfect is far from easy. So we leave these acoustic finishes to hide from our imperfections. If these acoustic ceilings help eliminate echoes in this room, then why does this pain keep echoing within these walls?"

She looked down towards the direction of her phone, and realized she completely missed the phone call. "Shit." As she thought this was the end, that her decision was already made for her, the phone rings yet again. As she proceeded to lifting the mess she left the night before that was scattered above her phone and she hears, "Everything looks perfect from far away, come down now, but we'll stay." She is caught between what may look perfect and all the imperfections that remain.

She answered, yet again.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."