We were in the roof top, with wind touching us, and with noise from below destructing our concentration. We were in a circle, with hands holding each other and eyes tightly close.
Sharing is good. It makes us more bonded with those we share our concerns with. But in my case, sharing seemed to be obsolete.
The girl before me was crying hard and harder while she shares something that makes her sobbed. And while she’s talking, I was thinking of what to say. I know I need to say something. So I think and think. It seemed to me that I have no concern at all. But deep inside me, I know that I am just denying to myself something that disturbs me.
“Nong Rye, say something,” Kat, the one facilitating the sharing said.
I kept silent. Something in my mind is running yet I don’t know how to start. After a minute or two, Kat again spoke the same words.
I need to say something. I need to share. I need to open up. I need to release something that bothers me. But then, the question is how?
Then I finally shared.
“It happened when I was in my first year in college. I have to go home…” I am studying in a school miles and miles away from home. “I have to go back home because my father died!” My grip to the hands tightened.
On my mind is the face of the demon. Smiling, carrying his shining weapon, ready to slice anybody.
With my calm voice, I continued. “My father was not sick.”
Then, my sweat run down my cheeks trying to mixed up with my tears that were slowly forming in my eyes. Yet, my tears suddenly evaporated while my sweats were still on there way down. My tears faded leaving my eyes burning as I forcefully close them.
The demon on my mind slowly smiles showing his white teeth that complements with his shining silver weapon. It shines as it swings very quickly towards its destination.
Then I opened my mouth… “My father did not just die.”
My sweats are all over me. I tightened my grip hoping that the weapon would be avoided. But the silver weapon, eventually, reached its destination. It was a success.
“My father was murdered!”
And the demon ran while laughing as I chase my breath. Then, I was shouting. I was shouting not for the demon to return and fight me. I shouted because I cannot do anything. I feel so useless.
I loosened my grip.
Then, the friend after me shared his story but I was not listening. I was running away. Tears totally disappeared and it left my eyes red. The next told about her family and their problems but I was still shouting silently, trying to escape. I am running yet I am helpless.
The demon had already vanished into the wild, his home, yet the whips of his weapon are still there. His laughs are even louder than the voice of a friend sharing about the people she hates.
I am still running, catching my breath wanting to shout everything out loud. There were greed and vengeance but I don’t have them. I am helpless like an animal waiting to be slaughtered.
Then they talked and talked but all I can hear were laughs materialized by the children playing games below us. They were not devils but the demon also plays games, a game where you may win or lose. But it is hard to beat the demon.
Kat was done sharing a segment of her life, all were done.
Slowly, we freed our hands as mine shake with perspiration. Slowly, my eyes opened. The demon was not there, he was in the wild. Then, I shouted. I shouted even louder trying to ease myself.
I took a deep breath.
I was back to the reality. Yet, I know the demon did not disappear at all. He is just in the wild living his life eternally. With his shining weapon, he immortalizes every side of his dirty dark cell.