The departure hall was full of people. Most women didn’t notice her, but most men did though. Men looked at her with both contempt and desire, as though they didn’t know if they should be disgusted or aroused by her appearance. They enjoyed the image, but they couldn’t help but despising the person. In their eyes, she was the wrong kind of woman.
Why do you care who I have sex with?
Isn’t it a human right to choose who to have sex with at any time? You say you support human rights, and the right to choose, but my choice still provokes you.
Are you threatened by me?
Do I make you feel obsolete? Is that why I provoke you?
Instead of trying to stop the world from provoking you, why don’t you try to stop yourself from being provoked?
And stop being such a hypocrite.
The chain of thoughts made her angry. Her face felt warm. She decided to buy yet another bottle of water. She always drank a lot of water, at least a gallon every day. She noticed the store carried bananas, but she had plenty of them in her purse. She ate at least two or three bananas every day.
Two-five-seven-eight.
Today’s number was eight hundred.
She looked at the information screen to find her gate number. Apparently, the 9:30 a.m. flight to Anchorage was departing from gate nine C.
Looking at the overcrowded café reminded her of all the excuses she had for not joining her friends. Every excuse was different, but in reality, the true reason was always the same. She couldn’t handle criticism, not even from her friends. Any form of disapproval would shatter her self-image, even if her friends merely disagreed with her. And if they pointed out she was wrong about something, then she would fight to the very end, trying to convince them otherwise. Her self-esteem was too low to handle a defeat. Hours of physical preparations and planning didn’t make any difference. The mental barrier was too big. Her couch was too reassuring. Her self-image was too fragile. The best line of defense was to simply stay at home.
However, she was a different person when she was working. Nobody at work could hurt her, because no one there cared about her, and no one really knew her. She felt indestructible when she was working. She felt as she was always in control.
She stopped once more to look at the information screen. She’d already forgotten her gate number. She forgot things frequently. But she never forgot to eat. Her next meal was always on her mind.
Two-five-seven-eight.
Today’s number was eight hundred.
On her way to her gate, she noticed a man coming toward her. He was staring at her. He was a grown man, although his face resembled that of a child. He passed her with his eyes wide open and with an enthusiastic smile covered in chocolate. The smell of peanuts and caramel was intoxicating.
I’m not hungry.
When she finally reached her gate, she was out of breath and dizzy and felt her brain pounding on the inside of her skull, as if her skull weren’t big enough to accommodate her brain. As soon as she sat down, she instinctively checked her cell phone for any validations. She was a frequent user of social media. She shared every aspect of her life at any given opportunity. She was pleased to see that people were responding to her ‘Bye-bye Seattle’ comment.
She was never proud of her own achievements though. She had no need for it. As long as someone else was impressed by her, then she would keep neglecting herself. The validation she received from other people helped her to ignore her own perception of herself. If only someone else admired any aspect of her life, however small, then the reflection in the mirror was wrong.
“Are these seats taken?”
She shook her head in response to the woman’s question. The woman who sat down next to her had short hair, and the color of her hair was as dark as her skin. Except for a small amount of eyeliner and mascara, the woman didn’t appear to be wearing any makeup. She on the other hand, always wore a lot of makeup, especially on her cheekbones. She hated her round cheeks, as they made her look bloated.
The woman put on a pair of glasses that made her look like a darker and taller version of Harry Potter. The woman seemed totally happy and at ease, very confident about herself. As the Harry Potter woman solved her sudoku challenges with incredible speed, she couldn’t help but stare at the spellbinding numbers. She felt enchanted by them. Math had been her strongest subject in high school. Before she got expelled, that was. She never went to college.
She glanced at the sudoku puzzle once more and noticed how the woman tapped the empty box with her pen.
The answer is two, she thought, but didn’t dare say.
She noticed the two men across the room. A father and son eating bananas, and they appeared to eat at the same pace and with the same gestures. The image brought a slight smile to her face. She reached into her purse. This was her second banana today, and she planned to have a third one, at the end of her flight. Suddenly, her jaw dropped. She wasn’t used to seeing the pilots board the plane. The tall and handsome pilot reminded her of her father, and much like him, he completely ignored her. His only focus was on the plane. He paid no attention to any of the passengers.
Her father was a man of faith, and unlike her, he was a good Christian. God couldn’t accept her weakness, and neither would her father. Her lust was her weakness. Her father would never speak to her again, and he would never walk her down the aisle. She had no children, and the mere thought of having any gave her a guilty conscience. For her to expose a child to her own emotional mayhem would be irresponsible.
The air bridge was cold and dark. She wasn’t afraid of flying. She was, however, afraid of the dark. The bright fluorescent light from the airplane cabin brought her relief, and so did the warm and dry air, which radiated out across the plane interior.
The first thing she noticed when sitting down was the menu on the back of the seat in front of her. She stared at the menu for several minutes, then she reminded herself that she wasn’t hungry. Once again, she reassured herself that the numbers were correct, and that her plan would prevail.
Today’s count was nine hundred.
7 RESENTMENT
Friday evening
My name is Matt Damon.
No, I’m not the famous actor. And I’m definitely not the sexiest man on earth, and I don’t have the most exciting job in the world. Actually, my job is quite boring, I sit in my office most of the day and I mostly handle paperwork. But at the end of the day, I’m happy. Because I have my health and a family who loves me.
I really wanted to be a veterinarian. I love animals almost as much as I love children. I married my high school sweetheart, but we drifted apart and we got divorced this year. We never had children. She didn’t want any. I think that was the main reason our marriage failed. I just couldn’t image a life without children. I couldn’t live like that. To live without the love of a child.
Perhaps that’s why I do so much volunteer work at the local youth center. I probably have a longing to be someone’s role model. And it also gives me the opportunity to share my wealth with others less fortunate, even if my father would turn in his grave. My father wouldn’t spend a penny on anything that didn’t give him a return. But I don’t need any more houses, or cars, or whatever. Sharing my wealth with others brings me more joy than any object could ever do.