Teardrops

Written by Jazlyn Clarisse T. Ko

“Ding Dong!” the doorbell rang as I waited outside. It was a cool rainy day and a new resident just came to town. I thought it would only be proper to introduce myself and welcome him.

The door crept open, revealing a blond man with crystal blue eyes. “Hi! My name is Harmony and I live across the street. I heard you were new so I brought some cookies so you might feel more welcomed.” I smiled as I handed him the neat package of treats. “Ah-uh, thank you,” he said with a sheepish smile. “Would you like to come in for a while? By the way, my name is Mark,” he said while leading me in.

We had a small talk for a good ten minutes. I was able to gather bits of information from the new “stranger”. For one, he was sixteen years old and living alone. When I asked where his parents might be, the aura completely changed. From light and casual to heavy and uncomfortable. All he mentioned was that he was abused and didn’t really go further than that. I couldn’t blame him though; it must have been a touchy topic. I also found out that he was still studying in high school. He also works part time so that he’d be able to pay for rent and food.  I was amazed at how strong and independent he was.

That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about that peculiar boy. I so wanted to know more about his past. In the midst of my deep thoughts, I heard a subtle sweet melody – coming from across the street. It was sad and slow – but oh so magnificent. Listening to the sweet tune, my tears started falling uncontrollably. One after another, tears rolled down my cheeks. Why am I – a twenty-four year old, crying for this odd reason? It made no sense at all but I couldn’t stop.

“Ding Dong!” the door bell rang, this time coming from my house. It was the delivery man! I ordered a package online because my boyfriend, Anthony, was having his birthday very soon. Upon receiving the brown box secured with duct tape, I immediately grabbed a sharp razor; I swiftly slid it through the tape. I flipped the flaps, revealing a custom made mug. It had a design that made it look as if it were wearing a lab coat – because Anthony specialized in medicine. I found it weird that there was a red blob on the ceramic mug. I wiped the red substance off, inspecting it on my finger, until I came to the realization… It was in fact MY BLOOD! I must have carelessly cut myself!

I rushed to the sink to cleanse my wound. “That’s weird, why didn’t I feel hurt?” I thought to myself as water ran down my fingers. I pat it dry with a nice clean towel when suddenly I felt the sting that was missing. Maybe I shouldn’t have washed it?!” Once again, my tear ducts decided to open up and tears ran and ran – racing one another. “Why do I keep crying these days?” I thought in my head as I attempted to wipe each tear from my face. I whimpered and whimpered in agony, getting drowsier by the moment. Alas, I fell into sweet slumber.

It was already five-thirty pm when I woke up. The sun was already setting and Anthony was to come home any moment. With very swollen eyes, I rose up, checking on my cut. “What? No way?!” I screamed aloud. The wound had magically disappeared. “What happened?” said a low voice coming from the entrance. “Oh, my gosh! Anthony’s home! I need to hide his gift!” I squirmed inside. I grabbed the box and threw it under my bed. “I’m home!” He chimed, as he walked to enter the bedroom. “T-Today…” I started and told him about what had happened, leaving out the detail about his gift.

“That is amazing!” He said in awe. “Are you sure you really cut yourself?” he asked. “Yeah! I checked my blade for any trace of blood. Sure enough there was.” I affirmed.” Mind if we do an experiment so I can witness first hand?”

Just like that, he led me to the kitchen and grabbed a cutting board with an onion. I proceeded to chopping and soon enough began to cry. He caught each tear in a glass container and slit himself with a clean knife. Blood came out. Just like a professional, he took a dropper and extracted some of my tears from the container, carefully releasing it to his fresh wound. Almost instantly, the cut closed up, removing all traces behind. “Jackpot!” he gasped in excitement.

It was too good to be true! “I must study this in the lab! You’re amazing!” he said while kissing me on the cheek. “I am dumbfounded. Harmony, I need you to make sure to store your tears every time you cry; this is a milestone for medical advancement! If I’m able to incorporate this to medicine, it would be a sure hit and we’ll be rich!” In response, I nodded and nodded like a bobble head.

Sure enough, it did become a hit. When Anthony presented it to his co-workers, it was immediately accepted. I now cry everyday for the sake of my boyfriend’s employment. When I am unable to do so, he becomes frustrated and I don’t want that. I love him and all but don’t I deserve to be happy? I absolutely do not enjoy crying everyday! It feels like he’s tormenting me. Maybe I should talk to him about it? Just as cheesy love magazines say, “The Key to a successful relationship is communication.”

That’s night I decided to gather up all my guts and attempt to talk it all out. “Honey, do you see these swollen eyes? I cry every day, against my will. I’m sick and tired of it! I’m sick of forcing myself to be sad. I’m sick of using an onion to irritate my eyes! I don’t want to do this anymore! Sure I’m able to help many through this, but what about me? I’m the one suffering,” I started to tear up. “Aw, dang it! THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO CRY HARMONY! Wah… where’s Anthony?” “Come!” he rushed towards me. “Your tears are precious!”

“My goodness, is that really all you care about? My feelings don’t matter anymore, huh? Only my tears do?! You are really shallow!” I blurted. “Of course your feelings matter! That’s what generates your magic tears” he said while catching some more. “PATHETIC! That’s all you care about? Really? You know what, you’re not worth my love! All you want is my tears! WE ARE OVER!” I screamed with all my might.

“Are you forgetting whose house you’re living in? Are you forgetting I supply all your needs? Your food, electricity bill, water, pocket money, EVERYTHING! While you? Tch! You’re unemployed, so sit down and be a good girl because you’re nothing without me!” He snorted. “And what are you without my tears?!” I shot back. “What a clever bad little girl,” He laughed evilly. “I didn’t want to resort to this but you leave me no choice” he swiftly crept behind me forcing a handkerchief on my face.

I awoke in a pitch dark room. A tiny portion of light escaped through the edges of what seemed like a door. It was cold and cramped. “Now be a good girl and give me those tears or suffer and starve.” A voice resembling Anthony’s said from outside. I slammed the door, attempting to break free somehow. “Try all you want,” the same voice said. “You horrible jerk! I’d rather die! Don’t expect anything from me!” I furiously fumed.

I spent what seemed like countless days, trapped in that chamber. A voice would occasionally offer food for tears. Isolated, alone, and frustrated, my heart began to harden. Every minute, every hour, I despised him more and more. My physical and emotional state was declining and soon, I know I had to swallow my pride in order to survive.

                I attempted to collect my tears. Barely anything came out due to my dehydration. I mustered all the strength I had to cry and took the biggest humility pill of my life. In return, I got a full proper meal, compete with dessert. I was able to see the light for a while after what seemed like forever in the dark. My joy was short lived. After finishing my meal, I was once again drugged and forced back in that same room. From then on, I decided to just sleep everything away; my pain, my anger, my sadness, my agony, everything. Although my physical state was asleep, anger still burned in my heart.

                I was awoken by an angry bawl. “It doesn’t work! It stopped healing! What is wrong with you?” I heard a voice approaching, louder and louder by the footsteps. The door slammed open. My eyes burned upon being exposed to the light for it had already adjusted in the dark. A hand grabbed me by the collar. “What did you do?!” a man in the figure of Anthony said. I wasn’t really sure. My starvation was causing me to hallucinate. “What do you mean?”  I mustered all my strength to speak. “It can’t heal anymore!” he shouted. “I d-dunno. I d-did n-nothing; I c-cried no-normally,” I said. I knew my body was giving up on me. Who knows how long I was in there, alone, depressed, starving, and most of all, angry. With all the abuse, I don’t feel anymore. I closed my eyes and everything was alright.