Twisted Love - English Language Centre

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Twisted love

Tris looked all around her. The music in the pub was pounding on the stereo;  the sharp smell of alcohol made her feel that she was coming home. Coming home, she thought as she sipped her glass of Carlsberg. The yellow liquid sparkled and dimmed, sparkled and dimmed under the dim lights of the bar. The bartender was doing his usual chore of polishing the glasses. People were on the dance floor, dancing to the beat of the music that was blaring out of the speakers.

She glanced at her Vincci watch. He's late; she thought and took another sip of beer. And she sat there counting the seconds to the minute he arrived.

It was a cold October night. The dark sky was littered with tiny studs of live diamonds. A fierce wind was blowing, and the sidewalks of the city and cars were flying past her. She wrapped her scarf tightly around her and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her overcoat. He didn't show up. It was late and it was time that she had her beauty sleep after a rough day of work----modelling for some advertisement on the newest facial product. She didn't want to think about him much less calling him. She hailed a taxi and just wanted to pamper herself with the new body lotion that she had recently bought.

When the rays filtered through the glass windows of her luxurious condominium, Tris was still in her king-sized bed with pillows full of goose feathers all around her, the furry peach comforter wrapped all around her curvy body. She was sleeping, drool coming from the corners of her mouth.

Her handphone rang, and the bedside table echoed the vibrations of her handphone. Tris turned over, reluctant to answer it. But it kept ringing and then five perfectly- manicured fingers reached out and slid the screen of her handphone in an old familiar way. She pressed the handphone close to her ear.

"Hello-o," she answered, emphasising her 'o's.

"Tris, I'm sorry. I've just realised that I have  things that I haven't done. So sorry that I didn't make it to our date last night," Ignatius' voice came over the phone.

She hung up  the moment she touched the red button. Tris tossed the handphone on her bed and grabbed a towel. It was time for a bath.

Ignatius must have called her a dozen times because there were 10 voice mails and missed calls when she returned from the bathroom.

That was weeks ago.

Now she was having dinner with Ignatius - the man she had met at a party was in front of her, listening to her talk. After he found out that his former girlfriend was having an affair with one of her male colleagues, he began to ask her out. Even though he had written that song 'Anyone of Us' for her, and she still had forgiven him, she still cheated on him.

Well, that was what he said. She didn't want to think about anything else except him; he loved her and she loved him, that was the only thing that mattered.

He interlocked his fingers in hers and looked into her sky blue eyes and they stared at each other for a very long time. For a moment, everything around them swirled and vanished as they were transported to their own world of romance.

And their world lasted for only months, because a car crash changed everything.

"Hi, this is Ignatius. I'm unavailable at the-" Tris hung up. Imogen had been in a car crash, and though she suffered no major injuries, Ignatius still refused to leave her side.

All the passion of his love for her must have disappeared or gone to the deep dark depths of his heart, and replaced by the once pure love he had for Imogen. Yeesh, Tris was disgusted by what he had done to her. Once, he had held her like she was a jewel in the palm of his hands, holding it ever so carefully, afraid that she would be fragile and shatter into a thousand pieces if she fell to the ground. But what changed? The jewel had fallen from his hand but it didn't break; it only had a scratch, but a very deep one.

Tris was tricked into this mockery, and Ignatius leaving made her angry. She threw everything Ignatius had given her into the rubbish bin, EVERYTHING. She felt hurt, betrayed and angry, but  sad as well. Now all Tris wanted to do was to find something sharp and stab it into Ignatius' chest and maybe drive it much deeper until it came out of the other side, the point of it dripping with red blood. Tris thought about it and instead, surrendered her tired body and broken heart into the comfortable den she had made on her head, seeking solace in the luxurious comforter and pillows.

She and Ignatius were over. OVER.

"…….Ignatius, it's over, you and me. It's over," Tris said over two cups of Starbucks coffee they were having. She was feeling victorious, happy, damn happy. She had had her revenge. Tris could see Ignatius' stunned face when she announced the end of their relationship. The sweet taste of victory was hers. She took her handbag and left Ignatius crumbling down, his dark lovely eyes staring at the blank seat in front of him. Tris smiled to herself.

The last thing she heard was that Imogen had died after a second car crashed into hers, not before elapsing into a coma and when the timer rang for Death to take her away. And as for Ignatius? He was left with no Imogen, lost love and a jumbled up mess of stuff-that-he-shouldn't-have-done-in-the-first-place-and-now-he-has-to-clean-up-the-mess.

There was nothing sweeter than the breakup she had announced to Ignatius. She walked in the comfort that there were tons of handsome men out there in the world; why break your heart over a man who did not deserve the love?   
                       
by Debra Wong                      
OX1MM     
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