“The story didn’t match the line,” she said to herself. “Something must have been wrong in the way,” she struggled to explain to herself. She always sits in front of her computer the whole day, watching news online. She compiles all the news and she loves analyzing the pattern. She has noted 5 patterns in her archive: death, slaughter, rape, poverty, and injustice. These are normal stuffs happening in the world, according to her. For her, these are the only solely truth. “This can’t be right,” she glared at her screen.

She was restless and frustrated. For the first time, she couldn’t explain what happened. She felt like her wrists were cut slowly to cease the pain. She felt that she was disconnected. She couldn’t bear the fact that she might be wrong all this time. “This world has to be garbage bin and nothing else.”

Obsessed, she dressed up and combed her hair. She noticed her reddish eyes and skin. She stared at herself in the mirror. “Who am I?”, she touched her face. She saw her mother there, unsatisfaction. She traveled back to her childhood, when she was barely 8. Her mother asked to her father, “am I still beautiful?” Her father just sat silently in his favorite couch, kept staring at the wall, humming “silent night”. Her mother asked again, “am I still beautiful?” Still, no answer. Silence in the room, she bore it all quietly. “Am I still beautiful?”, she said to the other her. Silence was the answer, she thought.

“I tried to do handstands for you
But everytime I fell for you
I’m permanently black and blue, permanently blue for you”

(Bruises by Chairlift)

Feeling sick of herself, she walked again to her computer. She sat there again, tears in her eyes was forever gone. She couldn’t cry, she remained in silence, no burst of emotion. Flatliner.

“Today, all people say thank you and forgive each other. God’s kingdom is already here.”

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