PREVIEW: Leave Me Alone

A certain accident caused by texting and driving became life-altering.

The main themes:

-       Survival

-       Moving On

-       Leaving and Staying

-       Traumatic

-       Romantic Abhorrence

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Preview

Prologue:

Love can be platonic.

Love can be emotional.

Love can be romantic.

Love can be sexual and erotic.

Love can be familial in a non-incestuous way.

Love can be painful.

And…

Love can even be heartbreaking.

There are many types of love out there.

It can be healthy.

Or it can be toxic.

Anyone, and, I mean, anyone can experience any type of these kinds of love.

It’s not just only any type of love.

It can also be desire.

It can also be lust.

Love can happen to anyone.

Gay, straight, bisexual, asexual…

Caucasian, African American, Hispanic, Asian…

Love is all of the above.

Happy, sad, angry, fear…

Regardless of one’s main emotion…

Anyone can fee love.

After all…

Ever since the very beginning, starting from Ancient Greece…

Eros, the God of Love; and Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, were the main reasons why we exist.

They were the reasons why we are here today.

To keep the population from going extinct.

To keep families growing.

To make sure elation lasts for eternity.

To avert suicide by heartbreak.

Most importantly…

To keep one alive until death do us apart.

Without love…

We are nothing.

Nothing.

Just Air, Earth, Fire, and Water.

We need love.

We need love to exist.

We need love to create sanguinity.

We need love…

To stay alive.

Love, lust, desire…

These are what makes us human beings.

They are what we are.

Love is perfectly natural.

Platonic, romantic, and even sexual…

Love is all natural.

Anything that is natural is what makes us human.

However…

There is this worst kind of love.

The kind of love that leads to the end of sanguinity.

I’m not talking about heartbreak.

I’m talking about abhorrence.

Sometimes…

Love can be abhorrent simultaneously.

It is called Romantic Abhorrence.

And Romantic Abhorrence…

Is what I have been experiencing…

For as long as I could remember.

This Romantic Abhorrence…

Altered my life into something new.

This Romantic Abhorrence…

Became the person I am today.

-Anonymous

Chapter 1:

“Are you ready?” Brandy asked me as we were finishing up packing our carry-ons for our three-day trip.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I answered as I zipped up my bag. Brandy did the same to her own bag.

“Do we have everything?”

“I’m pretty sure. I mean, we’re only going to be there for a few days. The whole weekend to be exact.” I made a mental checklist. “Toothpaste, toothbrush, pajamas, casino clothes. Yup, we have all the essentials we need for the next three days.”

Brandy and I took our luggage off the bed, setting it on the floor.

“I can’t wait to get to Atlantic City,” Brandy smirked. “I’m dying to get to the casinos and have all the fruity drinks I can handle. I’m looking forward to getting wasted.”

“Me, too. I could use a long weekend to just relax and get into my vices. You only live once, after all.”

“Look at you, Wendy. Back when we were kids, you used to be the perfect good girl, and, now, you’re about to gamble and drink to your limits. I love that about you, baby sister.”

“Thanks, big sister.”

Brandy and I had been close ever since I came to the world when Brandy was only two years old. People would say that we’re twins, but we were not, considering the fact that we’re a couple of years apart and that Brandy was about an inch taller than me. In schools, teachers and students would often mistake us for twins, so we decided to play along by dressing up in the same outfits and then confused the fuck out of everybody until we admitted that we were not actually twins. At certain times, Brandy would impersonate me and vice versa, just for fun. It was so much fun for us, as sisters, until we reached the age of eighteen on our different birthdays and grew all of that out.

I was twenty-three and Brandy was twenty-five. We were old enough to make our own choices and we both chose to drink and gamble in our leisure time in Atlantic City. We both had vices that we couldn’t resist. Coming from an Asian family, people would expect us to be uptight, teetotaling workaholics, though we were not. Brandy and I were exactly the opposite of that. We were the fun Asians, not boring Asians.

“Okay, looks like we’re all set,” Brandy said after going through everything.

“I think so, too,” I answered. “We better get going before we hit traffic. I want to get there in less than an hour.”

We lived in Brooklyn, New York, and from where we were, it took about an hour to get to Atlantic City, New Jersey, depending on traffic.

“Couldn’t agree with you more.” Brandy checked the time on her phone. “I’m dying for a Cosmopolitan.” She put her phone away. “Let’s go.”

Just when we were about to depart with our carry-ons, I received a text message as my phone pinged with a text notification. I stopped for a moment to check. I tapped on the screen to read it—and I read who it was as shock surged in me.

Babe… where the fuck are you?! Please respond to me!

“Oh, shit.” There was a subtle sense of fear within me. Despite the unidentified number on the text, I could already tell who it was texting me.

Brandy stopped walking to check up on me. “Is it Greg again?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” I deleted the message, not bothering to respond and already knew what he was going to say next.

“I thought you blocked him.” Brandy was concerned for me.

“I did.” I resumed deleting all of Greg’s upcoming texts. “He just wouldn’t give up. He just kept on switching phone numbers. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You really should consider getting a restraining order against him, Wendy. This is getting out of hand.”

“Like that will make things better. Our relationship may be toxic, but not toxic enough to be that abusive. I’m not even sure if emotional abuse and manipulation are enough for a restraining order, no matter how irascible he is. It must be more severe than that.”

“Wendy…” Brandy made me make eye contact with her from my phone. “Seriously, think about it. You may never know what next horrid thing Greg would do to you next.”

Brandy’s concern for me was enough for me to make this alteration. She was right; not only was Greg irascible, but he was also mentally and emotionally abusive to me. Any type of abuse is abuse. If Greg ever harmed me in any way, then I should have left immediately and escape from him.

I sighed, “You’re right, Brandy. You’re absolutely right.” I put my phone in my jeans pocket.

Brandy, who was then aware of my decision, smiled. She gave me a hug. “I love you, Wendy. You’re my sister, and I don’t ever want to lose you.”

I returned her embrace. “I love you, too, Brandy. Same here. I don’t know what I will ever do without you.”

We broke off the hug and smiled at one another. Brandy continued, “Come on. Off to Atlantic City. Remember why we’re going there.”

“To escape Greg.” I finished the sentence for her, as if we read each other’s minds. Sister telepathy, I would say.

“Yes, and to celebrate your freedom from that asshole. Just you and me and no one else. Now, let’s go.”

We left my condo to head to my Mercedes-Benz parked on my driveway. After putting our luggage in the trunk, we got in with me in the driver’s seat and Brandy in the passenger’s seat. We buckled our seatbelts. With everything done, we made our way to our destination.

As I was driving, Brandy and I talked about our itinerary should we get there. We talked about restaurants and what tables in the casinos we should play, much to our excitement to get our vices on. I was also looking forward to escaping Greg during the entire weekend.

After our conversation, I received text notifications on my phone sitting on the dashboard. I had the urge to take my phone—so I did. With one hand on the steering wheel, I checked my phone to read the text messages with my other hand. I tried to multitask by keeping my eyes on both the road and my phone.

The texts I was receiving came from Greg.

I just tracked you down on my Find My app! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?!

Come to me! Or else!

Baby! Don’t go anywhere! I need you! Now! Please come to me!

I got aggravated by Greg’s spam texts, asking me for forgiveness. Having enough, I decided to text him back… while still driving.

Sorry Greg… I’ve moved on…

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Brandy warned me.

“Relax, it’s only just a second,” I responded.

“Wendy…”

Not listening to my sister’s warning, I continued to text and drive at the same time.

It’s over… and you have no business to…

“Wendy! Look out!” I heard Brandy scream out.

Despite its vagueness, I noticed that I was driving off the road—and heading towards the chain-linked fence. I then screamed out, along with Brandy, as I attempted to get the car under control and back on the road.

It was too late.

The next thing I knew… there came the sounds of tires screeching, then Brandy and I screamed, and finally, a loudly audible crash of my car, along with glass shattering, that sounded like a nuclear explosion.

Everything suddenly went black.

Chapter 2:

Age 5

I felt like I was dying. I have been in bed for over a week. Mom already checked my fever after she felt my forehead. To double check, she put the thermometer under my armpit for exactly one minute before reading it.

107.5 degrees.

It was the bad case of the flu.

I had to stay home from school for about a week. Nothing but rest, fluids, orange juice, dry toast, saltines, and a whole assortment of fruits full of vitamin C. The medicine tasted so bitter, much to my disgust, but I didn’t have a choice. It was either I take the medicine prescribed by the pediatrician… or going to the hospital, which was the last thing I wanted.

I hated hospitals. The last time I went there was last year when Brandy came down with an asthma attack and had to be rushed there. Because of Brandy’s asthma, we were not allowed to have any pets that could endanger her respiratory condition, which meant no dogs, no cats, not even a tiny, small hamster.

As I was resting in bed, I recalled that time when Brandy got hospitalized.

She was laying down at one of those hospital beds at the triage. She had one of those transparent masks that covered her entire nose and mouth. She was gasping heavily as she breathed through that mask.

Mom and Daddy were with us. They never left Brandy’s side and neither did I. We huddled closer to my big sister as we hoped that she would pull through.

I couldn’t help but to shed tears in my eyes as I continued to watch Brandy breathe through that oxygen mask. I feared for her. I worried that I would lose her from an asthma attack. I held her hand tightly into mines. The skin-to-skin contact in between Brandy and I remained close and connected, never apart. Ever.

Just when I thought all hope was lost, I noticed that Brandy was then breathing normally again. The doctor removed her oxygen mask from her face as soon as she was able to breathe by herself again.

It was instant relief.

“Mommy, Daddy,” Brandy rasped as she weakly glanced at the three of us. “Can I speak to Wendy alone?”

“For what?” Mommy asked.

“Just… for… a minute. I need to talk to her alone.”

“We cannot leave you both alone,” Daddy informed her. “We have to stay by your side. We cannot trust ourselves to leave you two alone with the other doctors. Whatever you have to say to Wendy, you have to say it to Mommy and Daddy as well.”

Brandy then made eye contact with me, though very submissively. She continued to rasp, “Wendy.”

“Yes?” I responded, still holding her hand into mines, refusing to break the connection.

Brandy was able to sit up by herself. She then held both of my hands with hers. Teary eyed, she told me something that I can never forget.

Something that remained within my mind ever since then.

Brandy told me, “Promise me something.”

I emotionally nodded my head as my only response.

Brandy continued through her raspy voice. “If I die… please don’t forget me. Always keep me in your mind if I ever die young sometime in the future. I don’t want to be forgotten. I want to be remembered forever. By you. And you only. And… do me a favor.”

“What is it?” I asked.

Brandy hesitated in between her breaths. “When I die and when you get older and have children of your own…. Name them after me.”

There was a moment of hesitation in between us.

“Promise me that, Wendy. Promise me.”

For someone who was just a child and only two years older than me—she was coherent with her speech, even on her nearly last breath at that age.

Still teary eyed, I thought about what she said to me. I then told her, “I promise. I promise, Brandy.”

She smiled in spite of the melancholy from her asthma attack. I returned the smile, reciprocating the melancholy as well. I let go of her hands—and I brought myself closer to my sister to give her a hug. The embrace lasted for as long as I could comfort her until she was better.

During my long embrace with Brandy, Mommy and Daddy noticed that tender moment as well. They were so very touched by our sisterly moment. I could sense them smiling in melancholy behind me, as if I had eyes at the back of my head. The next thing we knew, our parents joined in the embrace. A whole family affair.

As I reminisced that moment while I was suffering from a flu—I became emotional. So emotional that I had a hard time resting and sleeping off the ailment. I couldn’t stop being teary eyed as I continued to think about that.

Ever since Brandy’s near-fatal asthma attack that landed her in the hospital that very day…

I kept my promise to her to this day.

Chapter 3:

Shattered glass. Metal screaming. The jaws of life. It all sounded so cacophonous.

Then, there was blood. A lot of bloodshed.

People surrounding me we yelling orders as they took me out of the driver’s seat of my totaled car.

Pain. So much pain.

I couldn’t feel my legs. Most of my bones have been shattered from the crash.

I wondered to myself, Will I be paralyzed and wheelchair-bound for the rest of my life?

I was crying. Sobbing. Bawling to be saved.

Then… I was screaming.

Not screaming for help.

Screaming for my sister.

“Brandy! Brandy!” My voice was choked and raspy. I couldn’t scream even louder, let alone speak. Did I lose my trachea too? What if I’ve become mute for the rest of my life?

No response from her.

Someone told me that they would take care of her.

But that was not enough for me.

I needed to see her. I needed to see my sister. Just to make sure she was okay. They wouldn’t let me. They wouldn’t even inform me.

I was put on a coffin. An opened coffin without walls on the sides.

More barking orders. More people surrounding me. I was surrounded by a myriad of tumultuousness.

Suddenly, I got transported. I got transported into another world in my moving coffin.

Bright lights. Sirens wailing. More people surrounding me.

Through my blurry vision—I saw people in white. Were they angels coming to take me and Brandy? I wasn’t even religious, and neither was Brandy. I didn’t even know there was a God or any being out there. Still, they all looked like angels to me.

Except—they didn’t have any wings.

They had scrubs and masks on.

The next thing I knew…

I smelled the familiar malodorous scent of antiseptic.

Oh, no…

I was back. Back to that place when I nearly lost Brandy from an asthma attack when we were kids.

“It’s okay, Wendy… we’re going to take care of you… you will be fine…” The foreign voice echoed.

“Brandy…” I tried to speak but couldn’t. They wouldn’t even let me speak.

Finally—I got transported into the abyss. The abyss amid the sounds of loud, rhythmic beeping.

I closed my eyes… wanting to sleep. To sleep for eternity.

Please let me die, were the last words I said to the unfamiliar angels.

I remembered. I vaguely remembered.

Right before I got taken away in a coffin and then transported into this tumultuous bright white abyss…

The last thing I’ve ever heard was…

PING!

X

8 Months Later

Everything was blacked out, though the memories were vague.

The aftermath of that car accident left me a huge scar on my left cheek. I also had compound fractures on both of my legs, in which I needed to have surgery to repair them, in order for me to ever walk again. The only good thing about it was that I was not paralyzed from the waist down. The accident spared my life and my mobility.

Miraculously, the operation on my legs was a success. I still get to keep both of my legs. My chances of being a double amputee were zero, much to my relief.

I then had a couple of months’ worth of hospital treatment with both Mom and Daddy by my side during visiting hours. Later on, I then had a few more months of physical therapy. By the time I left the hospital—my life altered drastically.

Whenever I heard cell phones ringing, I get triggered. I have been having the sense of post-trauma every time I heard cell phones ringing and pinging with phone calls or other types of notifications as horrifying reminders. It reminded me so much of when I nearly died at that car crash. I was even afraid of hearing my own cell phone ringing.

Ever since then, my phone stayed silent for as long as I could handle. The vibrate of my phone was enough for me to either answer a call or respond to a text message. I couldn’t even tell if this was going to be temporary or permanent. I hoped that it was temporary. I didn’t want any reminders of my near-death experience.

Near-death experience.

Brandy.

I never got the chance to see or even hear Brandy ever since the accident. I never got the chance to say goodbye to her either. I wasn’t even notified by anyone at the hospital when I was last taken there. I never had the chance to see my sister or wondered if she was okay or not.

Even worse. My parents didn’t—and never—even told me about Brandy either. My own parents never informed me about her.

What were they keeping from me? From their own daughter?

Ever since I got discharged from the hospital, and graduated from physical rehab, my parents have been staying at my condo to take care of me for the next few months. They just wanted to make sure that I was perfectly okay and physically and mentally recovered, despite that I could take care of myself. Although, they’re my parents. They both brought me and Brandy to this world, and, according to Chinese tradition, it was imperative for Brandy and I to honor them until death to us apart. My sister and I love them ever since we were born.

They were also aware of my post-traumatic stress disorder. Mom and Daddy would do anything to accommodate me from being traumatized by putting their own phones on silent around me as well. I didn’t want to be a burden to them, albeit they still wanted to take care of me.

Just like when I was a child.

When the time came—it was then time to take care of my own self, along with my own mental well-being. I was then able to look after myself.

“Mommy, Daddy…” My parents were gathering their belongings to head back to their townhouse, which was only minutes away from where I live. “I can assure you, I’m okay by myself now. I’m now capable of taking care of myself. You both don’t have to worry about me anymore. Really, it’s all fine.”

“Wendy,” Daddy informed me with the same amount of concern that Brandy had with me before that very day. “It’s not that we’re worried about what has been going on and what is going to happen to you when you’re all by yourself after you recovered.” He hesitated. “It’s that Greg guy you left a while ago. We know about him constantly texting you before that accident. We really need to do something about him. I can have the force to track him down and have him arrested for stalking you. You know that stalking is a serious crime.”

Daddy—also known as Officer Julian Lan—has been in the force for as long as I could remember, possibly way before Brandy and I were born. Because he’s a cop, he can be overprotective with me and Brandy over the guys we previously dated; he would put our dates into twenty-question lie detector tests before he approved of them.

For Greg—Daddy knew that Greg failed the lie detector test and knew instantly that he was bad news for me. Although, I ignored Daddy’s wishes because, with Greg to say the least, I, at first, thought that it was love at first sight. Daddy was right all along. Greg was bad news to me. The lie detector was never wrong. I was glad that I became aware of Greg’s irascibility and his history with emotional and mental abuse and even his manipulation. Because of this, I left him, out of Daddy’s per request. In spite of Daddy’s overprotective-cop-dad mode, Brandy and I still love him to death.

“No, Daddy,” I told him. “Don’t do anything to him yet. Just wait for a little longer. Just because he has been texting me nonstop with different phone numbers, doesn’t mean he’s stalking me. For now, I’m just going to ignore him and constantly delete all his messages and block every number he has. It’s really nothing.”

“Wendy, please.” It was Mom’s turn to be concerned in her doctor-mom mode. “Listen to your father.”

“Cathy,” Daddy explained to Mom in Cantonese. “I can handle this. I’m a NYPD police officer after all. It’s my job to protect her and everyone else here in Brooklyn.”

“Julian…” Then, Mom and Daddy got into a conversation about me in this Chinese dialect.

I’m more fluent in Mandarin Chinese, but not enough on Cantonese to understand what they are saying about me in front of me. However, I didn’t need to understand Cantonese to know what they were saying about me. It was all about reading their facial expressions and body languages to know what they were saying.

Mom and Daddy then ceased their conversation before making eye contact with me. Mom, in perfect English, told me, “Wendy, I’m still not sure about this. I know you’re now a grown woman, but I still don’t think you should be by yourself at this time. I still have doubts about it, and I’m still worried about what Greg will do to you next. Maybe we should stay a little longer.”

“No!” I inadvertently shouted in a stern voice. Then, I spoke in a calmer and more contented tone. “No, please. Really. I seriously do not want to be a burden to the both of you. After all, Daddy must go back to the NYPD force. There are a lot of people out there who need him and his team. I cannot keep him out of the police force. And, you, Mom, must go back to the ER and do your job as a physician to save patients’ lives. I mean, I can’t keep making your leave of absences just to take care of me. Who’s going to put food on your table if you both don’t return to your respective jobs?”

Mom and Daddy briefly talked about this in Cantonese. Daddy then told Mom in English, “She has a point.”

“And,” I added. “I must get back to my writing career. Those blogs and novels won’t write themselves. I need to go back to earning my own income to put food on my own table. I cannot be disturbed while I write with you both interfering with me.” I paused. “What do you say?”

Mom and Daddy sighed almost in unison. Then, Daddy said, “Okay, Wendy. You’re right. You are absolutely right. We understand that we have our own career paths to focus on.”

I smiled at his remark. “So, you’ll go back to your townhouse?”

“Yes,” Mom answered as she and Daddy smiled. “Just remember: if you need anything from us, you can always text us.”

“We’re only about fifteen to twenty minutes away, anyway,” Daddy informed. “You can always walk to our townhouse if you ever need anything in person.”

I reciprocated their smiles. “I know. Thanks, Mommy and Daddy.”

I went up to them to hug them both. They reciprocated the embrace. We then broke apart after less than a minute. I told them with sincerity. “I love you, both.”

“We love you, too, Wendy.” Daddy replied.

Lastly, Mom and Daddy gathered their belongings. We exchanged our goodbyes for now, and they left. I was about to ask them about Brandy—they never replied to that query. Despite that, I let that go for now.

Once they exited my condo, I locked my main door; double locked with the top deadbolt just to make sure. By then, I finally had my whole condo to myself in months.

Finally relieved—at least for now—I went back to my writing. I made myself a mug of jasmine green tea with honey to calm myself down as I write.

On my blog, I wrote about my personal experiences with texting and driving and how the aftermath affect me ever since the accident. I wrote about myself suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder from hearing cell phones ringing and the reason behind why I chose to always make my phone on silent to prevent triggering myself.

I figured that this would bring awareness of the hazardousness of texting and driving and the aftermath of it afterwards. Hopefully, this would shed some light on people to prevent doing the same as I did and how much it affected us and our loved ones.

I even wrote about my sister, Brandy, being with me during the accident and that I had no idea where she was, whereas I still didn’t know if she survived or not. I then included in my blog that I was never notified about my own sister.

Brandy.

Just writing about Brandy in my blog brought me emotional tension. I still couldn’t stop thinking about her.

After all these past months, I still had no idea about her whereabouts, and, still, no one, not even my own parents, told me about her.

After—emotionally—writing about Brandy on my blog and then posted it… I started to cry as I incorrigibly thought about my sister. I took a sip of my tea to calm myself down.

“Hey.”

Suddenly—I felt a hand touching my shoulder prior to that voice I just heard.

Startled, I turned around on my rotating desk chair to see who it was.

I was then beyond words to describe how bewildered and elated I was to see her.

“Brandy?”

End of Preview