Q

        

            

When I was a child, I suspected that there was something wrong with me. I mean, people would not see me. It was as if I was invisible. When I play, I will play alone, in the middle of a crowded place and no one would even look me in the eyes. When I cry, and scream for attention, not a single ear twitched to my screeching scream. I mean, I yelled pretty loud because I was quite sure that I was deaf for a fraction of a second. But seriously, no one turned.

My childhood was the loneliest part of my life.

But as I guess, loneliness fits me like a lover’s hand today. To be lonely is to be at home. Cozy, in my jammies and a cup of hot green tea. That’s what loneliness is to me today.

You must be wondering, “what about family?”

Let me tell you something, no. I do not have a family, I was never with a family, I did not grow up with a pair of humans like the rest of you do. I was just suddenly on Earth. I do not remember myself being an infant. I guess that is quite normal, "infancy amnesia" as they call it, but believe me, I was and still am not owned by anybody and nor does I have anybody to own. I am just me and myself from ever since I can remember. And also since I’ve grown up and everything, I realized that I am invisible. It was not like what I thought when I was a child. People cannot see me not because they do not want to, it is because they cannot. Believe me, I have tried. I bet you are wondering whether I’ve ever walked naked in public before. And my answer to that is, OF COURSE! I am invisible for God’s sake. Why would I not do that? But despite the fact that I am unseen, I still prefer being clothed because the wind is really uncomfortable when you are naked out in the open. Really uncomfortable. It is as if the wind is trying its best to caress you but somehow it will become perverted and I do not want to perceive wind as a perverted element.

Anyway, continuing on why I am telling you this story. Oh my goodness, how rude of me. Please, forgive me because I am not usually involve in any social conventions hence, I often forgot my manners. I am. Well, I am not really sure who I am since I was never given a name before. But I am used to calling myself Q. I do not know why, it is just what it is. I was going through the alphabets during kindergarten, yes I went to kindergarten even though no one asked me to, and while we were going through the alphabets with our teacher, this letter Q grabbed the lust part of me. It was as if I was attracted to this letter, too attracted if I may. So, do call me Q.

I keep getting sidetracked. Anyway, one day as I was sipping my tea in the middle of the night, I felt like there was something poking out of my skin. It was so sharp and the pain was beyond my vocabulary. I screamed but again, screaming can only get me so far. This very excruciating pain left me crumbling, breaking and crying in my bed for three days straight. I cannot move, I can barely talk and I thought I was left to die. And at that moment, there was nothing more that I desired than death, I wished for it, craved, as a matter of fact I begged for the angel of death to come and face me, to tell me that my life in this horrible, lonesome world is coming to an end. But that did not happen. I lived in pain and on the fourth night of my dying days, I felt something tickling my back. Something very light and very ticklish. Though I was in pain, I just had to laugh. I reached my back and tried to grab whatever it was that was tickling the fucking crap out of me. When I touched it, it was soft, at first I felt one, then two and suddenly, there are tons of ticklish crap on my back and it stopped being funny. I tried to grab one but it was attached to my skin and it hurts really badly when I tried to pull it out. When it came the time that it stopped hurting, the thing on my back still did not stop growing. My back was killing me and I could no longer sleep normally. I had to somehow sleep in weird angle so that I would not crush that thing behind me. I lived with that fear that this thing was soon going to consume me if it was still growing for another week. It was not until a week later that I solved the question of what was growing on my back all this while.  

It was a pair of wings.

I did not recognize it because I am invisible and the mirror and I are not exactly the best of friends because it will not and I suppose never will reflect me. I only realized that it was wings when I woke up one day on my ceiling instead of my normal comfy bed. And when I turned my head to my back, I could see these white feathers spreading like an eagle’s wings as I flexed the muscles on my back. I felt alive more than I had ever felt in my entire 19 years of living.

But what are the purposes of these wings? Why was I given wings in the first place? Am I not human? Or an invisible human? Is being invisible not enough? Why? Why was I given a pair of majestic wings? Why?

At that moment, I did not have the answer, so with newly evolved wings, I flew away, from one continent to another. Sometimes I just sat on the tree with the birds, you know, chilling with my flock. But then one day, from up above a tree I saw a girl walking with the world on her shoulders, it was so heavy I could see her aging faster than she should. She was so young, and I could see that all she could feel was pain and pain alone. And not from far from her I saw a boy, he was so happy, but there was no one for him to share his happiness with. And so I flew down to the boy and tapped on his shoulder. Yes, human beings cannot see me but from my experiments, results, both quantitative and qualitative data and countless attempts to interact with them I found that if I touch them, they’ll notice. So I tapped on the boy’s shoulder and guided him to her. By “guide” I meant I pushed him until he stumbled on the girl with the world on her shoulders. And there I saw, a sparkle. Oh, it was so beautiful, I almost cried. I wish I can imagine actual words to describe what the sparkle looked like. I’ll try.

The sparkle was like when the night sky is so dark, pitch black, without a single star present but there’s the moon. Spreading its light, igniting the whole sky with colors which will make memories come to life for those who are seeing it. It is like the only flower in the green meadow, standing on its own, but spreading colors that it possesses to the greens making the whole meadow bright with colors. It is like the most colorful fireworks that are ever known to mankind. It was just so beautiful, and I just knew that that sparkle is what humans call love. They cannot see it but apparently being invisible has its quirks.

Later that month, I have “guided” six persons into one another’s arms and I saw the sparkle igniting with every first look and first fall that they took for one another. And I became addicted.

So I decided to raise the ante. I read from books on Greek Mythology and I adapted this idea from there.  I built a crossbow with my bare hands and I carved my arrows. I carved it finely so that when it strikes the human body, it will not hurt them, but only enough to “guide” their attention.  The first two tries was a failure. First it was too fine and thin that the human cannot even feel it. The second one was slightly too thick from its appropriate thickness and I think I might have hurt that girl’s left buttock cheek. But my third arrow was perfect. It was so perfect, that I could fly and sit on top of the highest trees, aim from above, and “guide” that person into the arms of a lover from afar. And I can tell you this. The sparkle is even more beautiful from high above. Enchanting, fulfilling and an ecstasy to me.

Remember how I told you that my name was Q? It was not until the day that I read the Greek Mythology book that I realized this; my name is a short nickname for another, longer, complete name. My full name. It’s funny how things work.

Do you remember how I told you that my name was Q? Well I still am. But now, I am no longer the letter Q standing on its own. I am Q-Pid. Cupid.

To be continued....

Jazmin.