Thursday, 12 May 2011

a year ago today

One year ago, a guy pushed me to the boundary of life and afterlife by putting a gun in front of head. In that instant, pushing the trigger would mean crossing over from 'here' and 'not here.' In exchange for a China Phone. For a stupid Dual Sim China Phone. With TV.

 

I was that close to crossing the line between a 23 year old medical student about to take his Final Bout in Pharma, to a 23 year old who had a Gunshot Wound straight into his skull, Dead on Arrival. Everything in between, would also be scary. Could be sub-lethal injury, or psychologic trauma, or just the sound of a goddamn gun shooting in the air would make me weak on my knees.

 

We had eye contact for a good 3 seconds. His eyes was shouting anger but still calm and so professional as if he did this for a living. Well yes, he probably does. His voice commanding and disarming, as if his mouth spits bullets that made us mute and paralyzed. It was so weird to feel that a total stranger would suddenly have total control of your life. That that gun was oozing with fear, shooting straight into my eyes. That, if this is the end of one's life, what the hell did I live for? ...Pharma? 

 

So we gave him what they want without a fight. I've always thought that if that day comes, I would definitely fight back... but when an actual lethal weapon is point blank screaming at you, thirsty of money, power, and bursting with greed - you actually have no choice but quench it's thirst and feed him what he wants. He probably got his boundary that night from the Five of us...

 

Maybe he sold those so that he can send his son to school, or feed his twelve kids, or pay for her wife's hospital bills. maybe he's doing it for fun. for the drive. for the power. for the infusion of fear into an unsuspecting victim's eyes. for the rush. either way, he's doing it wrong. and someday, I wish he gets to feel what he made us feel that day. What he makes people feel every single day. How they change the lives of people in just one minute, or worse, end it... I wish someday, they get their own mega dose of fear that's going to be too much for him to handle that he'll choke but it'll be stuck in his throat, unabling him to breathe. And when I see him that way, I'll just watch him die. Watch his eyes sink and spell fear, but this time, the fear is pointed at himself.

 

Right now I dont remember what he looks like anymore, but I wish he's dead. Or suffering from bone cancer or non-hodkin's lymphoma or anything very painful. And expensive. I wish he experiences retrograde ejaculation. Anything painful, I wish for him. I wish him the Worst. That when the time comes we meet each other, that he's not riding a motorcycle anymore, and disarmed, I'd beat his ass up any day.

 

 

It took me at least 3 months to get through the post traumatic stress. Thank God i wasnt injured. Thank God no bullet was fired. and thank God I passed Pharma the next day. But in the next days after that, there were nights I was having nightmares about that incident. That he was chasing me. That he was killing me. That he was whorling me into a hole of knee shakening fear. That that gun in front of my skull, would suddenly mean everything, and that everything will be gone in an instant.

 

So this blog is for you, holdupper - may you experience the worst problems in the world and may you not get over it. I really wish to god that you get killed by a force bigger than you are. And may the fear that you spread along the streets of Lacson one day get to you at the middle of the night and kill you in the form of a myocardial infarction or an angina or a stroke and I hope you won't die because of it, because I want you to suffer. to suffer real bad. And maybe I'd be the doctor on duty that night, and in the case conference, I will then report to the consultant:

 

"30+ year old male, holdupper, filipino, arrived in the ER because of Chest Pain. As a Physician, I let him live by giving him the necessary meds just for him to survive. As his former victim, It was not a priority to relieve him from pain. I watched him scream, and cry, and pray for dear life. His scream was music to my ears, and his face was a sight to see, doctor."

 

" What the Hell? Demerit, Dr. Edejer!"

 

"It's okay, Doc. it's Worth it"

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