Banana Peel

Banana Peel
by Yelle dela Cruz

It was a sunny day at the market. The bustling crowd made their way into countless stalls, clutching their empty baskets. I sat there at the fruit stall waiting for something to happen. Something. Anything. God, please. I've been waiting here for too long. Forever.

Nobody ever notices me. A couple of passers-by stop to look. Still nothing. From a distance, a little boy stares at me with his innocent eyes. Clutching his mother's hand, he points at me with the other. The grown woman shook her head.

The vendor was having more luck. He sold two kilos of mango just now. I faded into the background. I closed my eyes, just like the others. We were huddled together. They were my sisters. They were sleeping. In fact, I was the only one awake. I wonder what they're dreaming about. I glanced at their yellow skin. Despite the hodge-podge, they looked quite serene.

Contented, even.

Even before I could die into a deep sleep, I noticed someone standing over me. The man was blocking the sunlight and I couldn't see him because of the glare. I struggled to see what he looked like, but with all that morning light on his face, my attempts were futile.

I knew the moment I opened my eyes that he was the one. The answer to my endless prayers. He negotiated with the vendor and started pulling out the fat wallet from his back pocket. I didn't see how much money he handed the vendor. And I didn't care. I just wanted to get away from this hell-hole as soon as possible.

The next thing I knew, I was with him. We all were. He bought me, together with my sisters.
Now, I could see what he looked like. He was an old man. He could pass as my grandfather.
He brought us to his home. Nothing big, really, just an ordinary middle-class apartment far from the chaos of the market. No one seems to be home. Preciselybecause no one was home. He led the others to the kitchen. Me? He led me to his room. Upstairs.

We went in. He locked the door, closing us in. He clasped me tight like he never wanted to let go. I felt so wanted, so loved. There was hunger in this old man's face. Hunger I've never seen before. It was unlike the hunger of those famished souls in that filthy market. It was good hunger. Good. And it was just about to be satisfied.

He talked about how soft and sultry my skin was. And how he longed to touch it. I was pleased. Before, at the market, I felt so ugly, so rotten. But now...

He stripped me naked.

And...gnawed on my insides. It felt great to see somebody pleased and fulfilled.

After that, HE WAS THROUGH WITH ME. He threw me out the back door.

I have never felt more ashamed of myself. I allowed myself to be used. Misused. Abused. Now, he wanted nothing to do with me. He'll probably forget me even before supper.

Lying on the pavement outside his home, I pondered the fate of my sisters. My fate is their fate.

On the pavement, beside that hideous garbage can, I lay. My yellow skin exposed for everyone to see.

On the pavement, beside that hideous garbage can, I lay. And then.... A guy was fast approaching. He was well-dressed in a tie-and-suit. Handsome. Suave. Dapper. He failed to notice the poor soul beside that huge piece of tin can.

The following events happened so fast I can barely breathe. First, he stepped on me. I was crushed under all that weight. He then took a step forward...then slipped. SWOOSH...!

Embarassed, he hurriedly stood up and composed himself. Then he glowered at me and cursed, "Stupid banana peel!" Then he picked me up and threw me inside that disgusting tin can. Then he walked away.