TRYING TO BE CIVIL

TRYING TO BE CIVIL
Rosalia

My heart rate was calm a few minutes ago.
Viviana is alright and not in a life threatening condition. There are just a few bruises here and there on her skin, and she still gets shaky because of the shock but she is recovering just great. I know she’s strong.
But that was all solid minutes ago because currently my heart rate has skyrocketed and I have a feeling it might take a couple of months before it regains its original rhythm.
Because the man before me- the same man whom I was embarrassed to find out that he was the one I had been calling Ken during my night out with Viviana- an act no responsible matured female is supposed to portray- drunk or not. The same man who happens to be a friend- a very good friend might I add, for the way I saw him watching over him earlier. The same man I had evaded and called strange because he was chasing after me while clearly seeing I was in a haste, was presently dangling a piece of fabric that should be found close to my private part. One I had thrown in my hand bag in a haste as I was rushing to Japan, my beautiful and sexy lingerie. Oh no no.
God No!
So this was the reason he had been trying to catch up to me. I recall those that had been laughing. At the moment, there had been no way for me to think it was because of something that belonged to me. Perhaps they even thought I was running because I was sorely mortified. Right now, I just want the floor to open up and swallow me. That will be better than seeing the proud and gloating smirk that was carelessly caressing that good looking face of his, highlighting his cheekbones like they were chiseled and polished before being fixed in place.
I swallowed and tried to regain my composure. But I knew I had lost even before I opened my mouth.
“That isn’t mine. Where did you get that from? In addition to mindlessly chasing after someone clearly in a haste, do you now rob girls of their private possessions?” I questioned. 
I was expecting him to be extremely astounded, so I can use that fragment of distraction to snatch  my lingerie from his hand and flee. But who am I kidding? I should have known that there is nothing normal about this guy. Not one thing. Not one.
Because why did his smile increase? 
“Perhaps we can ask your best friend. I believe she knows most of your things-“ he said and turned back toward the door. My hand quickly came on his shoulder to stop him. It was like a reflex because I didn’t even think of it. 
As he turned once again to me, two nurses were beelining towards where we stood and he slid my lingerie back into his pocket. As they batted shy lashes at him and sent bashful gazes toward the man that had my blood heated, I took that as my opportunity to leave there and grab something to eat. 
‘Or perhaps this is you just running away from your issues like always.’ A bold voice said within me. I sighed, paying it no mind and acting like that one sentence, that single thought pattern was not enough to send me into a depressive mode. 
Persons like myself who are always happy and act all sunshine-y, are the ones likeable to the biggest hurts in life.
Hurts that can never be forgotten.
Hurts that could take centuries to ease off a little. 
Hurts that certainly leave very permanent scars - the best of surgeons can’t correct, the best of therapists or anything can not graze.
And in my life, the life of brown haired and always rosy cheeked Rosalia Aldo, it came in the form of a family member, an aunt and her husband. The world will never know my story because I plan on dying with it, no one else will know. Not even Viviana, the woman after my own heart.
Because how can you sound like the rest of the world, like every normal person, when you have to explain that despite how you seem always happy, your uncle constantly raped you from when you were eleven years old till when you were seventeen, for at least three times in a week, through your periods, when you weren’t on, just anytime with you he could get. And his wife, your aunt, your mother’s sister- the only woman your mother thought she could trust because she was being taken away to a psychiatric ward due to some noticeable inconsistencies in her life and manners of reasoning- some of which affected you greatly and damaged you in no small way. That same woman was very much aware and also threatened to throw you into the streets should you ever tell another soul. Because it was better for me to be defiled and ravaged like a piece of nothingness than for her to be without a husband.
When I left their house, I made a decision to live my life. But this didn’t stop those negative thoughts from popping into your head randomly. Thoughts that are sealed and heavily guarded in your heart, thoughts that will never ever- never in this lifetime be voiced. 
I was in the elevator waiting for the doors to close, and begin its descent, when an arm stretched to stop it, pulling me from my thoughts and the man that had caused the spiral in my head.
And a funny thing is, this man, this one who has managed to press my buttons more than even the little children I teach, I have no inkling what his name is. Well maybe it’s time to put away the Rosalia who was deeply scared because of the death scare and attack on her friend, the Rosalia who was easily irritated - and bring back the Rosalia most persons know.
As the doors of the elevator closed, I turned to the man leaning on its wall lazily, and stretched a hand to him.”Hi Ken, I’m not usually so cranky and was the way I was because I thought I would never get to see my friend smile again. But now that I know she’s safe, I have chosen to be civil again. 
I am Rosalia Aldo. You are?”