Oscar Sun (10) | STAFF REPORTER
Robert has been sitting in this café since morning. It’s evening now. The waiter has switched four times because it’s Christmas Eve and everyone wants to spend more time with their family. When the fifth waiter comes to replace the fourth, Robert can distinctly sense the tones of disdain in their conversation. Of course, who would want a customer stuck in their cafe the whole Christmas Eve?
He springs onto his feet, and this sudden movement even surprises himself. He strides towards the waiter and pays the bill for his ten cups of coffee. As Robert strides out of the café, he is sure that he hears the waiter’s surprising exclamation at the discovery of a fifty percent tip.
Although his ego is temporarily booming as a result of the waiter’s exclamation, he immediately regrets leaving the café, because the cold wind began to whip hard against his already rigid, coffee-stained lips. It’s too cold outside. He has to go somewhere. But the problem is, he doesn’t have a place to go to.
Robert is walking on the sidewalk. On his right, across the road, is a big mall with a grand Christmas tree. It’s filled with hundreds of dreamy fluorescent lights, blinking at him. The Christmas rhythms and laughter from within the mall penetrate the walls and enter his ears. He quickly covers his ears with the gloves, blocking out those brainwashing, blinding Christmas melodies. He doesn’t belong to this season of delightfulness or holiday spirits. Suddenly, an unbearable sentiment and nostalgia encompass him and his breath becomes rapid. Tears fall uncontrollably down his face. How long has it been since he last spent Christmas Eve with someone he loves, or even, someone?
His tears turn into ice, and his exhalations billow out in white steams. There’s a stinging feeling. He calms himself down, and stifles his rapid breathing and uncontrollable tears.
Stepping away from the mall, he enters a more desolate region, with dark trees and frozen lakes on both sides. There’s a railway on the bridge above his head, and he can hear the sound of a train passing through, hong-loung-loung, hong-loung-loung. The sound calms his heart.
Passing the bridge, he suddenly has the urge to turn back and shout all sorts of curse words at the mall-goers. It is their responsibility. Everyone who is celebrating, is responsible for his loneliness. He decides to quench his satisfaction by turning around, but at that moment, in the dim light, he sees something.
He sees a black dot. A moving black dot. Towards his direction.
His breathing accelerates again, although he finds it hard to explain the reason. Nervousness or excitement? Probably both. To start with, it is strange that anyone would wander at this moment. Everyone should be spending this time with their families on Christmas Eve, according to his previous experiences. So, what is this black figure doing behind him? Sweat pushes its way out of his forehead. That’s right, the black figure must be stalking him. On Christmas Eve nobody would pay attention to robberies or kidnapping. That must be it. The person behind him must not have good intentions.
His strides became longer. He must walk away from that black figure. He pushes forward and is conscious of the thumping sounds in his chest. Sometimes, he turns and checks to see whether the black figure has stopped stalking him, but it is always there. Then he turns back and walks even faster. The black figure is coming, I can almost hear his footsteps, he thinks with sudden excitement, unaware of the presence of a big, silly smile on his face.
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Between him and the forest, is only one intersection. He confidently goes forward and into the depths of the forest. After taking a deep breath, he cautiously turns and begins looking for the black figure. It isn’t there anymore. It must have turned left at the last intersection.
Huge disappointment and frustration fill him. What the hell was that person thinking? Just follow his lead! Why are kidnappers so tame these days? Especially on Christmas Eve when no police will arrest you for kidnapping others. Then it hits him. A realization.
He wants to be kidnapped.
Yes, being kidnapped would be a wonderful thing. With the kidnapper, he can have finally someone’s company, and he wouldn’t be alone. Others may call kidnappings horrible, but he would call them an experience, a thrilling experience with human company to fill his empty heart. His knees drop to the ground and he begins sobbing uncontrollably, not even knowing whether that’s because of the shock of discovering his darkest side, or the disappointment of losing a chance of being kidnapped and human companions. After crying for a while, he stands up abruptly.
He drags his feet towards the opening of the forest, devoid of emotions and consciousness. Even his face has been scratched by the branches he feels nothing. Unconsciousness. Walking dead.
In his mind these rhythms suddenly run:
“Are you, are you, coming to the tree./ They strung up a man, they say he murdered three.”
“Come on now, follow my lead/ I may be crazy, don’t mind me.”
I am waiting for you, together with my loneliness throughout this eve.
