Disclaimer: Abuse, mentions of suicide, and some more heavy topics... (￣ ￣|||)
Duan Li could be called a successful woman. Grew up wealthy and already had a name for herself at a young age. Her parents were proud of her and doted on her accordingly. People called her spoiled. She called herself free. Free to do whatever she wanted.
She had thought that everyone was just jealous of her. That's why their attitude was so. She didn't think that it was justified. She also had her hardships and troubles. The slip on the newly waxed floors. The broken heel on her new shoe. The splinter on her treasured hands.
She needed those hands, that's why she cried. Because her parents would yell if she messed up at the recital.
Her worries were useless anyway. Her competition was a squirrel of a girl. Shy and soft. Too soft for her own good. One hit of the wrong note and her hands spiraled. Instead of playing the song, she played herself. Pathetic.
Her parents awarded her a new pair of heels to celebrate.
When Duan Li was sixteen, her parents had given her the gift of Chauffeur privileges. She was able to use the car to go wherever she liked. As long as it was confirmed through them. Her naive mind was able to take strolls on the sidewalk and gaze at the passing corporate slaves and feeble-minded students.
"Get out of my way, dumb bitch." Someone had told her. A youth around her age. Young at the age of 16. She didn't understand. Why? The man had run into her, hit her in the shoulder. Purposely. And had gotten mad at her.
Her parents didn't understand either.
Her shoulder got a bruise that night.
At the age of 18, Duan Li was told that her family had agreed to an arranged marriage.
She didn't mind. Unlike girls who had grown up in the countryside and wished for a prince to make them princesses. Duan Li was already one. She thought of it more of the other way around. Making this boy into a prince.
The man she married was the same one who had ran into her shoulder on the sidewalk. He'd aged nicely and his stature was fit and his face was handsome. Duan Li was proud to have someone like him as her fiance.
The man thought otherwise. According to him, this wasn't an arranged marriage, but a forced one. Apparently, he had a woman he loved on the side. His parents disapproved of her and had paired him up with Duan Li.
She found this out through physical 'conversation'.
They were married at 19. The honeymoon wasn't good. Duan Li still had nightmares about it till her death.
Her family wouldn't help her. She didn't know why. Out of all of the things that happened to her, this was what hurt her the most.
She fought back of course. As much as a woman like her could. Vases became her allies and forks, her talons. Knives were his brothers and drills his comrades.
She would see the woman he spoke about come once every blue moon. Those were the times she'd seen her, not the times she had come. She would wonder what she saw in him. She was doubtful and thought they were in the same situation. Stuck, with only themselves to rely on.
She was wrong about the woman. Instead, she had to protect her son from her so-called husband while the woman watched. She was quiet and looked embarrassed about her situation. Duan Li found it angering in so many ways.
Duan Li recognized her, strangely enough. It was the squirrel girl from the piano competition from when she was younger. The most surprising thing to her was that she was able to recognize the girl. When she was young, she only saw those people as doodles on paper.
That same girl from when she was young looked down on Duan Li. It was ironic. So much so that it made Duan Li want to laugh before demolishing everything in sight.
She was a tough, stubborn woman. That's what she liked to call herself. Strong enough to put others down and watch them fall. Able to raise her child on her own to make up for the fact that he openly had half-siblings living in the same house. For the fact that his father only gave him attention when his mother was getting beat.
She had to get a job of her own to pay for her child's expenses as her family's allowance was being directly sent into her husband's pockets. Which was then being spend to lavish his own children.
She worked in a small company as an assistant. It wasn't ideal for her standards. Sometimes she could see her child-like self shaking her small head in disapproval. All lathered in jewelry and adorning a beautiful dress. She hated that girl.
Because of her hard work, it wasn't long before her boss noticed her and gave her a promotion. One to be his personal assistant.
The man was kind and humble. He came from a small town and moved to the city to make money to support his family.
Perhaps that was why he seemed so attractive to Duan Li.
Whether she liked it or not. She was not the woman that she used to be. The constant stress had made her skin poor and her hair-thin. At the age of 29, Duan Li had looked in her late thirties.
Her confidence wasn't strong. The thought of catching someone as handsome and successful as her boss was low. Not to mention she was already married and had a child.
She held in her feelings. Deep in her chest, in the same place where she stored everything else. She silently stood by his side and watched him from afar. She watched him get in and out of relationships, settle on a woman, make her his wife. It was painful, but she thought of it as normal by then.
At the age of 16, her son committed suicide by jumping off his school building. She didn't know why, nor did she see the signs. She was too busy with the mask of bitterness covering her eyes to see anything.
After further investigation, she found out that without her knowing, her husband's illegitimate children were harassing and bullying her child. Her husband was aware of this and let it continue.
She didn't learn from her lesson and let her hatred grow. She hated that man. That man killed her child, the only one who stood with her in this cruel world. She despised that man. He took her youth away and made her into the trash that she was.
She hated the world. Because it wasn't good to her.
She wanted a happy ending. She watched from afar as the man she loved for ten years have children, live happily. She hated his wife as well. Because if it wasn't for her, then she would have her happy ending.
Her thoughts were irrational and based on nothing but pure dislike.
"The mask of hatred is as potent as rose-tinted glasses." A man once told her that. She couldn't remember who, nor did she care. But doubt filled her nonetheless. Was he right? Was she blind?
Throughout her time alive, was she in the wrong? What did she do that made it alright for her to be the victim? Her child-like self would open her mouth to tell her, but Duan Li wouldn't let it happen. Because that girl would be wrong. Duan Li wasn't meant to have any of this. She was meant for galleries and the camera. Not punching bags and babysitters.
There was more meant out there for her. It just wasn't here. Nothing was left for her here.
She was Duan Li. An old woman at the age of 46. She murdered her husband a year after her son's suicide and got away with the crime. And felt righteous at the sight of her husband's grandchildren mooching off of her wealth.
A woman who felt no accomplishment in life. Loved the feeling of freedom of her toes out of the imprisonment of her heels. Liked tossing those heels off of the rooftops to watch them fall onto civilians. Loved the high winds pushing her back and forth, giving her the taste of what it would be like to jump off. Powered through thick and thin, only to turn out broken.
The meticulous woman who saw the warning on the note. "Burn the note." It said. And yet she welcomed it with opened arms. Her sarcastic features couldn't take the expectation. She was excited. Finally, someone could help her out. Push her off the roof. Let her fall like her heels. Like she'd always dreamed.
Perhaps then she could see her child and finally get the life she deserved.