The Bittersweet Taste of the Unexpected

Jean Nikka Rose D. Aque

Pink. Two lines. She did not know what to do. All of the colors in her eyes had been entirely focused on those pink lines— already knowing that it would suck the vibrance in her leaving her feeling gray and her thoughts in black and white. Just when her world seemed to turn upside down, just as when she was about to call the accomplice that committed the crime, her mother called her from downstairs.

“Shi! Come here and help me count the store’s sales for the day!”

She had no choice. She composed herself. Wiped the nonexistent tears in her eyes and combed her hair. Later that night when she and her mother had finished the task and her having to end her pretension, her mother said, “This is the last of our money, Shi, and this is alloted for your tuition.”

She never responded. Just nodded. Left the room and decided to cry on her own.

She called him. 6 times. Never answered. She sent him the picture— as proof of the problem she thought they created. A few minutes later she received a reply, “Whoever you are, do not even think of trying to call this number again, he has a family of his own. He does not need another one.”

She felt all of the coldness of the world rushed through her. Her already cracked sensibility, now already shattered into million pieces. It is as if the world knew of her sufferings and decided it was not yet enough.

A decision had been made. She was in a room— a white room which atmosphere reflected death and sadness. Clutched in her hand is the money her mother gave her for her tuition fee.

Take good care of the money Shi, that’s the last of ours. Ace the exams, too. I am proud of you.

She could close her eyes as she imagined the doctor doing all sorts of things to her body to expel the foreign thing inside of her. She thought she could take that. For how dare she create and bring a life when her own life has not even started yet?

But all of that changed when she first heard the heartbeat of the life she created. A rhythm much in tune with her own.

The moment of realization struck her. She prepared herself for the worst and for the best all the same. She went to her classroom— acquainted with the fact that all of her classmates were there, admiring the instructor talking in front. Placed the proof of adultery he committed.

A loud gasp is all she could hear. The handsome features of the man in front of her turned to something sinister for a second and became indifferent the next. She said, “If I were you, I would not try to run.”

She could still remember that 3 am phone call.

Tell everyone about this and you’ll be dead. Who would believe a sl*t compared to a respectable teacher like me?

He could not manipulate her like that. Now she could see a different path, the path which she herself chose. A silver lining. Now, she knew what to do. She would follow the cliche trail of her life. Just like in the movies, she will rise.