VIGNETTE - Cristina (a character development)

Setting: Cristina is in her apartment in Amsterdam, The Netherlands. The year is 1988. Her hair dyed blonde, she easily passes for a Caucasian - she has fair skin, the long upturned eyes have lashes so thick men used to fall for her dreamy eyes and her luscious mouth. She looks like the young Brigitte Bardot but with finer features. Born in Manila, Cristina was 16 when she was crowned Miss Philippines and went on to become a finalist in the Miss Universe pageant. But that was a long time ago. Now she has gained a lot of weight ever since she lived in Europe. Her favourite snack is Belgian chocolate. Tonight, she is depressed, having been dumped by her boyfriend. This is her seventh rejection in five months.

Monologue:
"Damn! Damn! Damn! He can go to hell. He can go to hell for all I care. What is the matter with these men? Damn all men! They're all liars! I hate them. I hate them!" is the thought that goes through her mind, while everything within reach and sight are being tossed against the wall or on the floor or out the opened window.

She opens the cupboard and reaches for a box of Leonida's, switches on the small TV set and lets all of her 165 pounds slump down on the papasan chair.

"They told me I'm beautiful and that I was special. If I was so goddamned special, why the fuck has everyone gone?" Her eyes start to well up and tears roll down her cheek as she unwraps the gold paper off a Gianduja.

"How come I am alone...they just wanted my body. Before sex I am the most beautiful woman in the world. After sex, they say, 'oh, Cristina, yer so fat, aren't you ashamed of yourself? You gotta lose some weight, y'know! Yer breasts are flapping all over you look like yer's going to fly!' Then I'm sure they all laughed, when I can't see or hear them. Even that stupid, ugly Ramon. He thinks he is so good looking, he thinks he's so great. He's a piece of shit! All Filipino men are. Oh, I hate Filipino men, they rough you up in bed, borrow money and never pay you back. They're never thoughtful enough to bring flowers. They want a free fuck and they won't even bring you, not even a wilted flower. They'll say 'I'll take you to dinner' and when you go, they'll either let you pay for yourself or pretend they forgot their wallet. Shit! They're all a piece of crap, those men!"

She stands up from the papasan and slowly walks to the bathroom door mirror. She stares at herself, from head to toe. She smiles at her reflection but winces as the sweeping stare reaches her bosom.

"I'm going to lose weight, one day, I'm sure I will. Then I'll be pretty again; then they'll all come after me again...I should've married when John asked me. Then I wouldn't have to worry about gaining weight. He'll send me to the slimming salon, just like when we were in Manila. Oh, I miss John, he's the only one who really cared and loved me. He's the only one who really wanted me. Someday, I'll be pretty again, they'll see. I'd be slim again. I have to stop eating these chocolates. I have to stop eating! If only I would stop eating. If only I'm beautiful enough. If only I'm slim just like Miss Universe. Damn that fucking Philippe Lowe! I had the best answer and the best body and he chooses Miss Argentina just because I had space in between my thighs. He should see my thighs now!...I really look repulsive. God, why can I not stop eating!"