Five Lives

She heaved into the toilet bowl, and the intense discomfort caused tears to prick her eyes. The contents of her dinner swam in front of her eyes, and the foul stench caused the bile to rise up her throat once again. She had drunk too much. Far, far too much, she thought. Images of the vodkas, long island teas and cheap stout attacked her mind. And how the guys in the club had touched her, but she had been willing bait anyway. Her outfit had consisted of a black backless top, jeans that rode down and strappy heels that made her look tall. She had wanted attention, and received more than she had bargained for. The heavy night of dancing, alcohol and cheap friends-she had done it for a reason hadn’t she? It’s over, Lina, Nathaniel had said. And the words of the text message, heartlessly sent, made her want to wretch again. The burn ran from her stomach and pierced her chest, but this time, she defied and swallowed the bile back down.


The bile stained the satin bed sheets, and Jessie knew she would need to have them cleaned
before the next customer. The man on top finally rolled off her, his right arm wiping away the sweat on his brow. He offered her a weary smile as he lifted up the bed sheets and got up from the bad. She forced a smile back. He was one of her best and most regular customers. She waited for him to leave the room for the adjoining bathroom before she pulled the sheets aside and picked up her clothes. Funny how she let him spill his seed into her but didn’t like him to see her completely. Blouse, skirt, belt and black patent pumps-in that order she put them back on. He came back out from the toilet, smiled again and thanked her as he placed the required amount of money on the dressing table next to the bed. His wedding ring reflected the dim light of the table lamp. He reached out to take her hand, and years of practice had trained her not to flinch. “Come and see me out, Jessie.”


Jesse sighed. His company was getting bought over, and soon he would be made redundant. The promises of his university, the dreams of a high-flying career and the draw of deep pockets had crashed along with Wall Street. “Be careful.” Grace had warned him, when he described in flying terms the projects that he was doing and the products his bank was selling. He hated himself now for dismissing the insightfulness of his wife, he had always known that Grace was exceptionally perspective. Wasn’t one of the reasons why he loved her so deeply? And now that she was heavily pregnant, he regretted becoming an investment banker, wondered deeply if he had let her down. His phone rang. “Yup, Mr Lim. I’ll meet you there at 12. Thanks.” Packing up his bag, he proceeded to leave the office to meet a prospective buyer of his BMW.


The BMW nearly crashed into her as she dashed across the road. Natalie cursed at her stupidity for not looking first, but dashing across roads was common practice for her. Being a university student, working part-time and shuttling between two divorced parents meant she was constantly running around to some place or another. And now that her dad had recently remarried, she had to spend more time with him and his new wife to assure him that she was not angry or resentful at him. Then spend even more time with her mum to promise that she would not neglect her. How was it possible to be angry anyway? Theirs was an arranged marriage, loveless, civil and only kept together by the domineering hand of her paternal grandmother. The divorce was a relief for all three of them when her grandmother passed away. She reached the café where she was supposed to meet her mum for lunch-she had sounded really excited and Natalie wondered why. Pushing the glass door open and scanning the place for her mum, she gasped. Her mother blushed as Natalie raised her eyebrows at her interlinked hands with the man sitting next to her. She loved teasing her mother. The stranger held out his free hand and said smilingly, “Hi, I’m Gabriel.”


“Gabrielle! Are you ready?!” Gabrielle winced at her second aunt’s shrill voice and looked at herself in the mirror one last time. She felt foreign in her strapless white embroidered gown, and wondered if all brides looked as nervous and pale as her. Her female relatives began ushering her out of the house, into the car, and to the church. Every so often, Gabrielle stumbled in her four-inch stilettos that her mother had forced her to wear because David was a good six inches taller. She felt nauseous, and wondered if she would trip and fall as she walked along the aisle. Someone, she did not know who, pulled her hastily out of the car. At the front of the altar, she saw David, looking nervous but hopeful. He smiled at her. As the wedding march started to play, Gabrielle started to shiver. She suddenly remembered the words of her teacher back when she was still studying in a Catholic missionary school.

“The choices we make are eternal.”