The Reminiscences of a Fallen Angel; Part 1.

I struggled to breathe. With my long, slender fingers clenched tightly to the side of the tub, I wished I never came into this world. "At least fighting to catch my last dying breath isn't as difficult as having to go through with the bullshit I have to put up with everyday," I said aloud as the water sipped in slowly to the sides of my mouth.

There was something very tranquil about the water- flowing into the large tub which was about to kill me in seconds. Right there and then, I thought, "Without him, I can still breathe. Without him, I will still be that same woman with a secret love for bad-ass chicks. Without him, I'm single and sad." My body was already floating in the overflowing tub. I set free of all my hurt, anger, guilt and worst of all, my emotions of betrayal I was feeling, the moment I let go of the tub.

Reaching out for the faucet to turn the water off, I caught a glimpse of what looks like my room-mate. "What the fuck are you doing in my bathtub!? I was just gone for a few minutes to go grab some food and you're back to your suicidal tendencies! Get outta here."

Her name is Jody. Whenever I'm around her, I always keep this in mind. Never mess with a lawyer. Especially this drop dead gorgeous one.

A true blue brunette, smarter than the rest of the other girls, with a wicked sense of humour and a no-nonsense attitude, which explains all the shouting. (Mood wings, non?) For now, I'll be safe in my own little haven- with no one to stop me from killing myself a thousand times and reviving myself over and over again. Who knows how long I have been in there. When your body is almost fully submerged in water, you see nothing and hear only silence. 'Wrinkly fingers, motherfucking eyesore.'

All I could muster was, 'It's a goddamn Sunday for crying out loud. Cut me some slack, will ya?'

My name is Jupiter Genevieve Dyson. I've lived in Singapore for the past 24 years and am living in Manhattan, New York. I go back to Singapore whenever the homesick signal alarms. Being far away from good food, good beer, friends and family is just sheer torture. God bless whoever invented the World Wide Web. I'm a firm believer in persevering for the bad guy because the grass is greener on the other side... Or so they say.

You may imagine me as someone dark, fair, blond or redheaded. My name causes a bit of a commotion when people first heard of me when I was about to set foot for my new job at a magazine firm. Caucasian? Nah. I'm not a white, neither am I a black. Or Jewish for the record. No pun intended.

I am actually an Asian.

A Japanese mixed to be precise. I have my papa's eyes and kindness and my mama's smile and nose. My papa is an Indian while my mama is a Japanese. I somehow take pride in my name the one given to me by my papa. My mama wanted to name me 'Kazumi' meaning harmony and beauty. Papa protested that it was too plain of a name for me. In my papa's eyes, I meant the world to him.

Papa is one of those egoistic Indian men who couldn't stand to see their daughter with a Japanese name and not be poked fun at by some racist Chinese chink. It made me stand out from the rest. It never made me feel small. I got bullied a lot in school, but that's all in the past now.

Jupiter was the Roman King of Gods. Genevieve, a feminine french name for a girl. I guess his love for the French culture and his interest in Roman History sparked a name such as mine. No matter how absurd it sounds, it had a ring to it and I loved it. Guess I was going to be the next Kimora Lee Simmons.

Jupiter Genevieve Dyson.
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