I sat next to him during the interview. At that time I wondered what thoughts were playing in his mind. I watched him jiggled his toes, and glanced at his sleeves almost every minute. By the way he dressed up; tight fitted, feminine colored jeans and striped polo with pulled up sleeves- I didn't doubt he was a she. He was second to the last to be interviewed, I was the last. For a moment I wondered if we'd both get hired. I was thinking that if we'd both be working in the same company, then I'd love to make him my friend.
Moments passed and he stood up, with a grace that not even I could display, he walked towards the interview room.
38 hours after, I saw both of us seated in another room again. It was the first night of training, it was a time to make new friends. I was the youngest in the group, he was the jolliest. I still recall those punchlines well thrown, those giggles that only PARIS could have produced. He was the joy of the group, the healthy caffeine that helped all of us stay awake when sleepiness knocks in. He walked at the calling floor like as if he owned the company. Every time I looked at him, I saw no trace of sadness nor frustration in his face. He always radiated joy wherever he goes and whomever he is with. I thought he would live longer, and yet I thought wrong.
When I saw an unregistered number calling me, excitement overwhelmed me. And when I finally found out who the caller was, the excitement just vanished as the the immense sense of loss caused me to freeze where I was seated. Paris was dead. Jolly Paris, the guy who made things feel lighter in his presence. The Paris who walked while dancing, the Paris whose usual sentiments were enough to make you laugh... dead?
20 stabbed wounds, dumped body found in a river, phone and money all gone. What do you think would be the motive?
Thieves. They could have taken everything, everything but life.
It was such a barbaric thing to end a joyful soul's life. And if we even think about it, nobody has the right to take a life. Most especially someone else's life. My heart pounded agonizingly at the thought of his death. How could it be, that someone like him had exited the earth in such a painful way. And how could a fellow human do what they did to him. Should I even call them human when what they did is something that is so inhuman?
I believe in God, I never doubted His Presence. And yet I just can't help but ask why something so bad had to happen to someone I know.
To Paris, to the would have been sister I failed to reach out to, may you rest in peace...
