Life Ain't A Fairy Tale (21 page)

I don't want to get up from the floor or do
anything. I don't want to go to the hospital. I don't want to see
anyone. I don't want to see my parents dead on two beds. I don't
want to see their dead faces. I don't want to sit near their beds
touching their cold and stiff hands. I want to be alone in my
darkest hour. I don't want anyone near me. I don't want to see
anyone else for the rest of my life. I don't want to have a funeral
for them. I don't want anyone to know what is happening to me.

I am not calling anyone to inform him or her
about my parents' death. That includes my family. No one is coming
here to tell me that I have to prepare a funeral. There isn't going
to be any funeral. I don't want to hear the church music. I don't
want anyone mourning my parents' deaths with me. I want to see a
priest joining everyone in prayer. Nobody is going to tell me what
to do or not to do. I don't want to sit through a ceremony to watch
other people share their experiences with my parents. Neither do I
want to share my thoughts about my parents. My thoughts are private
in front of the crowd. I don't want to be consoled by anyone. I
don't want anyone giving me a pep talk on how life goes on and how
I have to be strong. I don't want to be strong. I don't want to do
things the way society dictates. I want to be alone.

Recollections of my past as a baby flash in
the darkness. I see my life flash before me. I see myself as a
baby, always smiling. Every image I see of myself as a baby, I am
smiling and happy. I am always in my mother's arms. As a baby, I
drool over my father when he carries me lying down on the couch. I
am happy with my parents at the beach. There is an image of a baby
girl kissing my chubby cheek, and I have a smile. I am on my feet.
For the first time as a baby, I walk with my hands in the air. It
is like I am holding on to a nonexistent object to keep me
standing. I am playing with a small twig in the park. I imitate a
dance routine that I am seeing on TV. I am so small; the TV is
bigger than me.

I remember stories that my parents used to
tell me of how I behaved as a baby. They said I liked to sing songs
that I heard on the TV. They said I was a great singer and that I
imitated the mannerisms of the singer on cue. They thought I was
going to be a star when I grew up. Although I didn't speak full
conversation, I read words I saw in my own language. It amazed my
parents to see me read words, in my own way; not the way they are
supposed to be pronounced.

My parents always loved to tell me the story
of how they tried to avoid a fast food restaurant so I, a
three-year-old baby, wouldn't make them stop there for food and
promotional toys. One block before they reached the restaurant,
they made a turn so I would not see the restaurant. If I didn't see
it, they figured that they wouldn't have to make the stop. The
moment they made the turn, I started screaming and kicking in the
backseat. I was upset that I was not going to see the restaurant.
They had to go back and end up stopping at the restaurant to calm
me down. What a spoiled brat I was? I don't even remember doing
this, but it happened.

The thought of remembering how my parents
hugged and kissed me as a baby bring me to tears. I take off my
glasses and leave them on the floor. Those were the most beautiful
moments anyone can ever experience. Too bad, I don't remember my
baby years. Good thing the photos exist to tell the story of how
much I was loved. My parents always loved me.

Memories of my early childhood pop in my
mind. I was opening a Christmas present. It was my first video game
console. I felt so happy and excited. My parents were so happy to
see my joy. I enjoyed playing video games for hours and hours.
Also, I played with toys, many toys. I reenacted scenes with my
toys from the TV shows I watched. I felt like a hero who conquered
evil. I was the one who had the coolest toys and video games. Juan,
Luis, and Justin came by my house for this reason. It used to be so
much fun. We played racing games together. It was loads of fun
beating them many times. I had the benefit of owning the games.

Elementary school was fun. It was there that
I had my first crush. The Honduran girl inspired me to go to
school. Seeing her everyday was a gift to me. I loved her long,
black hair. One day, I won a Spelling Bee in my class. I felt so
proud that I won one. I was a great speller. Spelling was my
favorite subject. It was the subject I got the highest grades in. I
was good at Math except for word problems. My mother helped me a
lot with word problems.

The most fun I had was during gym in
elementary school. I used to be a jock when I was young before I
became a geek in high school. I loved playing volleyball. I loved
diving onto the floor to keep the ball from falling on the ground.
Also, I enjoyed playing soccer. Unlike soccer practice where I was
always placed as a defender, I was placed on offense in school. I
scored many goals. I felt so happy. It sure helps that the gym is
much smaller than a real soccer field. Indoor hockey was fun, too.
If it were real hockey, I would have not been able to play because
I would not be able to maintain balance on roller blades or
skates.

The sport I was least good at was basketball.
I enjoyed it in school as well as at Juan's backyard. I have a
really hard time running and dribbling the ball at the same time.
When I played at Juan's house, he had much more energy than I did.
For the first 20 minutes of playing basketball, I had enough energy
to keep up with him on defense. After 20 minutes passed, I only
walked around to watch Juan blow pass by me with lay-ups. It was
fun though. Sometimes, he had more friends over. It was fun playing
a 3-on-3-basketball.

In high school, I had fun too in my own way.
Since I first started to suffer from anxiety during high school, I
was not as energetic as I used to be in sports. With athletics out
of my reach, I tried to be Valedictorian. The reason I became
inspired to become Valedictorian was when I discovered that many
guys who looked more like jocks than nerds were ranking high in GPA
(Grade Point Average) among my high school class. I was not
successful at becoming Valedictorian, but I was very happy when I
ranked #2 in GPA from my entire class for two straight years. It
was my crowning achievement. My parents were very proud of me.

Despite not having close friendships, I felt
a strong connection to the people in my classes. My anxiety caused
me to feel very sick. I had panic attacks less severe than the ones
I felt in college, but what I did experience more was constant
fatigue. I got tired very quickly. What I enjoyed most about being
in school was a surge of energy that I felt from the people around
me. I felt like I had the strength to go through the entire school
day. I knew that the energy came from my classmates because when I
came home from school; I felt the energy gone from me. I needed to
take two-hour naps to recover from the school day.

I was fortunate to be invited to two Sweet 16
birthday parties. They came from girls who I had classes with in
elementary school. I think my mother's friendship with their
mothers helped me to get into those parties. I had fun watching my
Sweet 16 birthday friends looking more beautiful than always in
those parties. I also enjoyed watching the other people I knew from
school dance. It was fun to see them in a different light. The
Sweet 16 parties were held in beautiful places. The decorations
were nice, and the dance floor was huge. I joined the simple dances
when the DJ directed a simple dancing routine for everyone in the
party to repeat.

In college, I had my first desires to become
social. I made many new friends at college. Every semester was a
new set of friends. I enjoyed having them around. I felt a bond
with them as we shared the same experiences of being college
students. Some of them were very funny. Many of them asked me for
help with homework assignments or with studying for laboratory
exams. I enjoyed their company. Seeing how people came to me with
questions made me feel more secure and important.

Every semester was a new opportunity for me
to make lasting friendships with new people. Unfortunately, the
friendships only lasted while they had classes with me. I don't
care if my college friends were only my friends to know how to do
the homework. I enjoyed every second of it. Feeling needed by them
made me feel a part of society; something I never experienced
before in my life at that time. The friendship they offered in
return while I was there is more than sufficient payment for my
services as an unofficial tutor.

I met my first girlfriend, Sara, in college.
Sara gives college that special memory. It gives me that special
feeling that will stay recorded in my mind forever. If I hadn't
gone to college, I would never have experienced the superficial and
magical feeling of love. I will look back at my college years as a
wonderful time.

I am still sitting on the floor thinking
about what is happening to me. I tried to mentally prepare for this
moment. I knew my parents were not going to be with me forever.
Since I was a young child, my parents always told me that they were
not going to last forever. They advised me to go to college and get
a college degree in order to be set for life. The time of their
death came, and it feels too painful. I burst into tears on the
floor lying down. No matter how much mental preparation I went
through to make this moment less painful, it didn't work.

My life has been a very fortunate one. I was
showered with love from my parents. Not many people share my
experience. My parents loved me so much that when my father
proposed if I would rather have birthday parties with my friends or
have new expensive video games as my birthday present, I chose the
expensive video games. I didn't need to search for love in other
people. My parents gave me the love I needed and beyond. The
marvelous things in my life overweigh any of my life's negatives.
Chicken pox, no girlfriends, panic attacks, and my parents'
fighting are nothing compared to the beautiful things my parents
provided me with.

Now, my life is over. There is nobody who
loves me. I am an alien with no purpose on Earth. I always felt
like an alien, but unlike before, I don't have my loving parents. I
don't care about life anymore. I don't care what happens to Sara
and Chad or Jessica and Richard. Whether their relationships
succeed or not is not of importance to me anymore. At the end of
the day, the students I tutor don't need me either. I can easily be
replaced with another tutor.

Ironically, I kept telling everyone to stop
believing in fairy tales. Turns out I was the one living the
longest fairy tale ever. I have been living a life of fantasy for
the past 28 years of my life. My fairy tale is over. I am no longer
needed in society. Reality has finally come to my life. My life
will be reduced to tutoring and back home forever. This is how my
life will end.

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