Yellow Light

Just like a traffic light, I believe there are three types of people in this world.

There is red: dangerous to be crossed over. These people are the ones who you will never befriend, the ones whose personality never match yours. And that’s Bella.

How do I know this fact? Because I happened to overhear a phone call that she had in the old park behind the school building, the phone call that made me realize the personality of the school’s cheerleader squad captain.

The phone call that made me understand how this beautiful, well-respected, famous girl in our high school was faking herself.

“What? Why can’t I go to the party?” Bella asked. Her tone sounded upset.

The person on the other end mumbled his reply that I couldn’t quite catch. The reply that made the redhead girl looking even grimmer.

“I can assure you it’s safe, Papa,” Bella replied. This time, I could tell from the tone that she tried to persuade the other person.

Again, the person answered Bella. The answer that made Bella clicking her tongue in annoyance. 

“You are unreasonable, Papa! The party is going to start at 8, and you want me home by 10? They are going to call me a loser! I might even get bullied for this, you know? Do you want me to suffer?” Bella threw a tantrum, slightly threatening her father on the receiving end.

Yet again, the person answered her, this time with some long sentences. The sentences that made Bella roll her eyes while tapping her feet continuously as she listened to it.

“Ugh, you never understand! Fine, whatever you say, I’m still coming to the party tonight!” The angered girl then ended the call right away.

So, would you call a person who fought their father for a trivial matter as “nice”? 

Well, I wouldn’t.

---

Just like the traffic light, there is the green: allowing people to pass. These people are the kindest ones who never blame others for their mistakes, letting them walk away without burden. And that’s Kevin.

How do I know this fact? Because I happened to find the boy who disappeared eight years ago, the boy whom I thought to have died in the car accident. The boy who used to be all smiles back then, the same boy who suddenly jumped from the bridge as he tried to take his own life when I met him once again.

The same boy that made me dive and swam against the flow while dragging him to the rocky area beside the river. The same boy whom I never talked to, but scolded right away.

“I don’t know what your experiences were, but don’t throw away your life!”

Upon my sentence, I could see Kevin lowering his head while his shoulder shivered. I couldn’t tell whether that was from his emotions or the coldness of the water that drenched his entire outfit.

“I don’t know you, but can you listen to my stories?” Kevin asked while he put his arms around his knees, hiding his face from me.

“Sure,” I sat beside Kevin, the boy who made my heart flutter back in high school, the boy who stayed in the same position without saying anything for a while. 

The boy who then broke the silence with a single sentence, “I…, I am a murderer.”

I doubted my hearing at that time. “A… what?”

“A murderer. I killed someone,” Kevin restated his sentence.

I became speechless, unsure which words I should use to reply to him. And to this silence, Kevin turned his head towards me. “Eight years ago, I was driving a car with my girlfriend, Bella. I was driving my father’s car although I had no license. And that killed her. And I…, I felt so bad…,” Kevin let out more words. 

The boy with dark brown hair beside me took a deep breath, then continued his story. “We were having a conversation. I couldn’t quite remember what was it about; I replied to her without much thinking since I was too focused on the road.”

“Then?”

“Then at one point, she asked me to look at the sunset outside. Stupidly, I did.”

“And that led to the crash?”

Kevin nodded his head. “The car went to the other lane, where a teal-coloured truck drove towards us. I…, I panicked and turned the steer as quickly as I can, but maybe it was too late by then.”

“So you crashed to the truck?”

The boy shook his head. “We fell off the cliff.”

I could see tears started to well on Kevin’s eyes as he recalled the memories from the accident.

And while thinking for a reply, I tapped Kevin’s back, supported him as he sniffled, supported him as he let out his cry for a couple of minutes. 

And when he managed to stop his tears, I asked, “Where were you going back then?”

“The observatory on the mountaintop.”

“Why there?”

“Because Bella wanted to. Because she said watching the stars with me would relax her from the stalker.”

I frowned. “Stalker?”

Kevin let out a sigh. “The afternoon before the accident, Bella was mad. She said there was a stalker; a girl who keeps following the two of us, a girl with dark green eyes.”

So, would you call someone who carried the burden on their own, to the point they wanted to kill themselves as “happy”?

Well, I wouldn’t.

---

As you know, between red and green in the traffic light, there is the yellow light: sometimes letting you go, then forcing you to stop, depending on the timing and situation. These people are the ones who seem without harm but might change according to the context. And that’s who I am.

How do I know this fact?

Because when my first love told the story of how he accidentally killed his girlfriend, I fully sympathized with him, while feeling happy that Bella had died.

Because when Kevin uncovered the reason behind their last trip, I genuinely listened to it, while feeling happy knowing that Bella recognized the green-eyed stalker.

All while rejoicing the fact that green-eyed stalker indirectly caused Bella’s death.

All while knowing who the green-eyed stalker was.

So, to whoever reading this…, can you keep a secret from Kevin?

A secret that the green-eyed stalker was me.

Yes, me, the girl who saved his life, eight years after Bella’s death.

Yes, me, the girl whom he dated for two years; the one that he just knelt to propose to.

Well, you've read all this. Now, you would have to keep this secret of mine, wouldn’t you? :).