Lecture — Short Story
Mr. Gavin noticed I had lost my attention towards him. He called me out, asked whether I was still listening to his words — which sounded more of a homily I had been hearing for a thousand times. Startled, I sat straight up and answered him. None other than me was more surprised that I could act this way in a formal discussion.
“Tell me, Wendy. Express to me why you still come to our office every morning. What is it that you look for?” Maybe he thought this question would petrify me, but rather I was glad to accept the disclosure.
“I am here for the money, sir,” I said, decisively. As expected, he heaved a long sigh, bowing down as if looking for the exact words to attack me. His facial expression was intense, but he kept his tone at the normal speaking intonation.
By the time his mouth opened, I was prepared to hear the flood of words that would inundate me. I averted my gaze to the casement behind him and watched the dry weeds dominate the vacant gazebo behind this room. I secretly pinched my backhand, whispering inside my head, “don’t get brainwashed, don’t get brainwashed.”
Frankly, I had been asking myself the same question. Why did I still come to this place every morning? While Mr. Gavin still furiously spurted me out with his opinion, once again, my mind was elsewhere. Tomorrow, a friend would soon be a newlywed. Yesterday, someone I used to be jealous of had finally achieved their dream of studying abroad. Today, a local hermit was given the privilege to be excluded from rules. In the future, that person’s name will be more formidable than ever. Self-pitying would not get me anywhere, but I wondered what it was to be lucky. Everything that happened in my life was always going so smoothly, with no surprises and marvels. I was not worried at all if my future was still as mundane as the present.
I envisioned myself to be a fierce woman. That being said, sometimes I tortured my soul with a lot of pityings. And I showed my weaknesses too often in a journal. The reason might be that I had not yet understood what I wanted to be. I read somewhere that it was about the rich mindset. In conclusion, I must eventually find a purpose in life and be unequipped with a poor mindset. They advanced faster than you because of what you did in the past, my inner self reminded.
I recalled the looks in Frida’s eyes whenever I uttered audacious and cynical statements. Or how she treated me coldly, but so gleeful towards the others. I had no recollections of when my character began to reduce on its own.
I didn’t mind. I deserved that.
“Do you agree with me?” Mr. Gavin suddenly stopped speaking. I turned my eyes to him slowly, so I would seem to be listening all along. Upon my nod, he continued blabbering again. I guess my answer did not matter.
When I got home that day, that question still twirled on my head. Everyone was already asleep that night, and I came home unpunctually as ever. Listless, I scrolled Instagram absentmindedly. I didn’t listen to my inner thoughts reminding me how harmful it was. There, I saw a picture of a friend with their new lover, an influencer with body goals that was worshipped by the world, a scandalous celebrity that survived the cancel culture, a person who successfully practiced saving up money with their meager allowance, an artist with their infinite creativity…
It never ended.
So I closed my eyes, trying to sleep, but people’s lives were circling in my head, preventing me to sleep. I had more reasons to leave that place more than I wanted to stay. But if I left...who would be helping my peers with the abundance works? And if I left…what kind of person I wanted to be after this?
