Hours ago this morning. I ran out of the store.

And it was raining…

I sheltered myself with my dark-green umbrella as I heard the light droppings hitting under my little roof in this pouring rain. I was out of breath as I held on to my bag filled with so much chocolate.

Too much chocolate.

It was 9:04 AM at that time, and I arrived 3 minutes before the bus came in.

I felt relieved when the door swooshed as I got inside. I closed my umbrella, tapped my college student card, and politely thanked the driver. The door closed, muting the light rain, and the bus started to move. The sudden jolt made me trip and hit one of the many chairs. I was alone.

It was painful, but it’s fine. My mind at the time was frustrated with… “Buying 8 bars of sweet milk chocolate bars?” I thought. It was too much.

I remembered looking through the windows as I walked towards the end of the bus, I couldn’t see a thing on the other side with fog this thick. The cushioned seat on the right side nearest to the wall was incredibly moist, even by touching the edge of it. As I opened my brown bag, head leaning on the glass wall, eight of those spoken pieces of chocolate were there.

With one in hand, I examined the chocolate closer; its branding is all blue as the rectangular, familiar treat shines in the spotlight on the wrapper. Everything has been stressful lately, so I’ve been feeling a little bit “chocolatey.” It’s a sweet distraction. A piece of marvellous joy.

I held the bar firmly as I tore the wrapping apart. The paper shrieked along the thin foil joining with it. With the two inedible layers gone, the aroma sweeps in. I gave in.

One bite. Big enough for an entire row.

The bar cracked as the pieces slowly melted inside. Even with the embarrassment, I continued. It was still chocolate. Eating this delicious meal was a treat. The taste of chocolate never faded away, has it?

And as I took another, then another.

It’s the light in this bitter darkness.

The light grew and grew after many and many bites. 8 minutes have passed since I rode in that bus. And already, I ate half of it.

Many intersections passed by as I watched vague images of cars, people, and the blurred lights. There’s traffic far up ahead, and after a few stops, a multitude of people stayed and went by.

The fogged window continued to shield me against the heavy rain as I continued to wipe off the moisture. Within the outside blur of the streets, I could see a clear image of myself. Tired with dried eyes, with splitting headaches here and there.

Deep puddles splashed as the bus drove by, and for a supposed calm ride, it was wild. It made my world spin for every bump - hitting my head with a thud.

“I regret this,” honestly. Should I have slept earlier? Or, let alone, going into the shop in the first place? Maybe I could have slept and then drank medicine to feel so much better! I would only miss one class along with the eight times I had, right? Everything in my life is clashing with the many assignments and projects; piling up into this overwhelming guilt.

I have to. I don’t really have a choice, do I?

It’s just that ever since this morning, two alarms rang and rang repeatedly at 6:30 AM until I woke up at exactly 7:28 AM. The preparation, the hygiene, and the running all ticked down to 8:20 AM at the bus stop.

I didn’t have the time to check for the incoming buses until I got there. “Of course, it left 18 minutes ago,”  as I frustratedly groin and put the phone away. And with the rain, and the stress, it all persuaded me to just go inside the store behind me.

“Snacks would be nice,” I thought as the door slid sideways into the blinding light of a convenience store. As I walked around, I could care less about make-up or the many sales, but I felt conscious of every chip, drink, and sweet I saw.

After 8 minutes in the store, at 8:35 AM, my phone rang, and the bus had already left. Again…

Dark chocolate? No… White? Too sweet.

How about milk chocolate? 8 bars of each. One to eat on the bus, and the others for each every day. I carefully grabbed the milk-flavoured ones ever-so-slowly, with 6 pieces on my left, and the other 2 on my right.

“Would you like to pay with debit or cash?” the cashier said after scanning them.

I already pulled out my card and nervously said, “Debit, please.” Of course, I feel like this is a great idea. It was, I’m sure. But it wasn’t really. It really wasn’t.

“Your total is $45.91,” I said as I tapped my card on the machine. “$45.91,” I read again on the screen. I grabbed eight of the individual bars, and was given the receipt.

“Have a nice day.” Wait… Looking back, have I actually said something? Well, then, it certainly wasn’t a great day.

“I really didn’t say anything, have I?” I let out a sigh. “A bit rude, isn’t it?“.

“‘One to eat on the bus, and the others for each every day’”, I remembered as I grabbed another, “another one wouldn’t hurt”. And like before, I teared it open and placed the broken wrapper inside the bag like the one before.

It was at 9:24 PM that I remembered the itchy dryness of my eyes as I scrolled on the phone, enduring the pain for a bit. I should have listened with my eyes as I felt that slight daze. But aren’t I persistent, as I kept on scrolling and scrolling inside of the endless internet.

I’m addicted, deep down. And so is eating half of the 7th sweet delectable goodness of the milk chocolate. But it doesn’t ease the increasing illness. It doesn’t help with the rain going on these past two weeks - raining on exams and projects. It was depressing.

With nothing to do, I finished the entire bar, and rested my eyes for a little bit. As minutes passed by, my phone vibrated, and I felt the same swaying motion of going right, stopping, and forward across the intersection to the left-side lane. I pulled the yellow-coloured cord to ring the bell, stood up, and held on to the metal bar.

While moving down to the door, I anticipated the motion and brace as I slowly stepped down with my bag secured on my shoulder. The rain was deafeningly loud, and with the gradual stop, the door’s light lit green, and I pushed on the yellow bars. The wind blew as the door swooshed itself out into the open.

I ran outside once again.

I held the umbrella forward as I held it up tightly for cover. The door hissed behind as the engine roared from the bus and left with no trace. The wind was heavy, and the umbrella…

It flipped over! I could feel every single watery drop, and every part of me is wet. Completely drenched. I gave up fixing the umbrella and immediately ran towards the bus shelter. Never stopped until I heard the noise of rain ringing on top of the metallic roof.

Safe and sound, but soaked in misery.

With the umbrella dropped without a care in the world, its metallic structure all warped, bended, and somewhat functional, I sat on the cold, barren seats. All cold.

I looked up and saw the many droplets on the metallic roof dripping down to the thick glass walls. “I thought everything would go into place. I was a special and gifted child after  all,” as I laughed, “I had high marks on computers, and even photography! And among the other courses that I don’t even remember, but no, I don’t even know what to do…”

“God, isn’t this painful!” Oh, life has been going great!

But as the minutes went by, the drenched clothes and the wind leaking through the holes made me shiver.

It was too cold.

My head aches in agony in this cold, harsh weather. I couldn’t handle it. The pain was dreadfully sharp, like a knife drilled into my mind. I curled up out of desperation and cried to make it go away.

It was too windy.

As the noise rang louder and louder from the raging storm from above, more and more of the gentle drops became like rains of arrows. The once pleasant parade of soft beats and harmonic rhythms became cathartic all over as the rain grew in intensity.

Life was too hard.

My head boiled as I begged and begged for it to stop.

“I can’t. I can’t,”  as thoughts shrieked into a descent of loud melancholy. Tears dripped from my eyes as I screamed for comfort, for my old, childish times to come back.

My life. I want my life to go back to what it was.

My heart cracked into deep sadness as it fell and shattered from school, expectations, myself, and from life itself. Hammering and beating it into submission.

Like the flooding rain, in the waters of my own depression, I questioned every aspect of myself. Question why? Why am I like this? I feel so incompetent and miserable.

I should have stayed at home.

I should have stayed.

Pushing myself to my fullest. Waking up early to spend all 8? No, 12 hours of my days studying into suffering… For what? To get a diploma, I’m not even sure if I want to be there.

I don’t even know.

But isn’t this what I want?

Or did I pick the wrong path?

Is everything I do wrong?

Was it all meaningless?

All I wanted was to stop. Stop worrying. Stop thinking.

I’m so alone… “God, help me…”

Immediately, a thought pushed against my will, and I grabbed my bag beside my seat and tore the wrapper of the 6th chocolate bar. “But… who cares anymore…”

As I blindly ate in pain, stuffing myself in this guilt pleasure of sweets and delight, the hollowness of my heart grew. The sorrowful rivers burst as I kept drowning myself, not in waters but in this burning poisonous sweet. The pain grew sharper and sharper with every bite I took.

The rain grew into thunder as it clapped and yelled after numerous flashes of light for every few bites I took. Rain continued to flood the floor slightly as I endured and finished the 6th.

In the midst of the chaos in this continuous storm, cars sped by and branches slowly fell apart. Loud horns were heard through the devasting weather. But I didn’t care one bit as I finished the 5th.

Boiling in anger, I yelled, like it ever mattered, “If I felt so miserable, why am I still here doing the same thing over and over again. The literal definition of insanity!“. I took the entire fourth bar and forcefully pushed and chewed on every bit of it.

Too loud. Blinded by the insanity, deafened by the echoing chamber of rain and pain, my throat begins to burn from the corrosive bar of the 3rd. “I don’t even know how to talk to people.”.

As I tore and opened the 2nd one, I couldn’t help but feel the acidity reaching near my lungs. I shallowed the vomit and finished the 2nd, “I’m a coward.”

“I don’t want to live anymore.”.

I was standing up when I opened my eyes at that time. I was tired as I looked toward the streets in front of me. The fog was thick, but I could see the low beams from cars zooming by on the roads with white and yellow-stripped painted lines.

I walked forward with a mind numbed with words of unease, “What do I want?”, as the image of going in the middle of the road was clear.

The voice was deceptively gentle and soft, it was alluring yet felt like I’m being tricked. “Why not just go? It’s okay to be a bit selfish, right? Just run away. All of our problems will be gone, and everything will be okay.”

“Right…” I said with no remorse.

But there is regret. Something is wrong! Before I could even take a step, one step out in the rain, then ten more steps to greet the cars head on - a gateway to my demise, I couldn’t.

“I can’t”

One step back.

Step back again.

Then another, and another, and another, until I hit the wall behind me.

The pain withdrew as I slowly felt clarity with the gentle voice of my own cries deep inside in shambles for my own precious life, “I can’t. I can’t die now. Not yet. Not yet.”

Not now.

Not now…

Right now, it’s 1:20 PM, I’m tired, wet, and I just want to go home.

I’m weakly standing as I keep on wiping the tears away, and clenching this dumb and crocked umbrella as I hold on to the very life I have today.

The rain finally settled down after a long while, but I’m terrified! Too scared to move. Scared to think. Scared to do anything except wait for the bus.

The phone rang as it vibrated, and I clumsily picked it up and dropped the umbrella again… “Hello!” I yelled from home, it was someone familiar, “Are you safe!?”

I- I don’t know what to say, “I’m fine. I’m fine, just waiting for the bus to come. I’m going home soon.”

“It was raining like crazy! Good thing nothing bad happened!” she says.

I could see the bus far ahead. “Yeah… it is a good thing. Praise God…”

With a goodbye and the many “love you too,” I walk outside in pleasant light rain as I stand near the bus sign. Inside the bag, I grabbed all of the wrapping and the only remaining chocolate I had and threw it in the bin.

There’s still a lot of shame inside of me… Why am I like this? So miserable.

As much as I want to run away, I can’t.

I have to live.

As I looked up towards the sky, I thought, “I have to live because of them.”

The bus arrived on time, and the door swooshed open, and I got inside for me to go back home…