Who Am I Living For?

"You want your classmates to think you look nice, don't you?" I can remember my mother saying. "To the other girls your age, looks is everything."
Now that I think back over it, and the other similar requests my parents have thrown at me, there's one simple word that I can extract from all of their requests, and it keeps repeating itself over and over in my mind. Impress. But why should I need to impress? Shouldn't people like me for me instead of how I look? Shouldn't someone be judged on their personality rather than appearance? I understand that appearance has a small part to play in they way people are viewed, and especially first impressions, but shouldn't it remain as just that? A small portion.

"Kay, you've got to live for yourself," a friend has told me recently, and that was what started me thinking. Up until now, I've been doing it my whole life without a second thought, but why should I be striving to impress those around me? You want someone to like you for you, not an 'improved' or 'bettered' version of yourself that's not really you. That can lead to some problems down the track sometimes if you forget your original facade. Those types of messes are the ones I realise now that I don't want to get into.

"What's changed about you?" Jenna asks when I approach her at school. "There's something... different. You seem happier."
"I'm living for myself," I say simply, shrugging.
"And who were you living for before?" she asks, her eyebrows knitting together.
"Everyone else," I say. "I was trying to impress everybody. But not anymore. I'm living for myself now, finally. I'm me, and anyone who wants to can take me or leave me as I am."
Jenna smiles. "I always knew you were stronger than you thought you were Kay."
"Really?" I ask, blinking.
"Yeah, there was always a light inside of you," Jen says, her smile growing wider. "One spark will shock the world."

Lemons

I followed after my grandmother as she headed for the big lemon tree in the middle of her backyard. Basket slung over my arm, I ran to catch up to her.
"Here, give me that basket you've got there," she said, holding out her hand.
"Grandma, what do you want lemons for?" I asked curiously as I sat on the cool green grass, watching her as she picked lemons from the tree and placed them carefully in the basket she held. Grandma was silent until she'd finished picking her lemons, then, she turned to face me and squatted down, offering her hand. I took it and she pulled me up.

"Why would I want lemons?" she asked, repeating my question from earlier as we slowly made our way back down the hill to the back door. I simply looked back at her when she glanced at me, not having any idea of the answer to my own question. I let out the breath I was unaware I'd been holding when Grandma spoke again.
"Well my boy," she said, resting an arm around my shoulder as we walked through the door. "Lemons as they are bitter, are they not?" I silently nodded my head in agreement. "But what happens when you take the juice and add a little sugar huh?"
"Lemonade!" I said excitedly as she set a pitcher of the freshly made liquid on the kitchen counter in front of me.
"Exactly," said Grandma with a smile. "It's like life, Max. In life, you're given what you're given, and you've got to make the best with what you've got."
"When life gives you lemons..." Grandad said, taking a seat on the kitchen stool beside me.
"Make lemonade!" the three of us said happily together.

Years later, a terrible accident left me a paraplegic in a wheelchair, and in the midst of my initial struggle to accept the situation for what it was, Grandma's words from all those years ago echoed in my mind as if she'd only spoke them yesterday. In life, you're given what you're given, and you've got to make the best with what you've got.

It was the very next day, I met a young lad who'd been stuck in a chair his whole life, and was battling to accept himself with that chair. "Hey," I said, smiling as I approached. He looked up at me from the ground and seemed to relax when he saw that I too was in a chair."I know it's hard Buddy," I said, patting his shoulder.
"How long have you been stuck?" he asked.
"A few months," I said quietly, "but I'm getting used to it."
"I've been stuck my whole life and I still hate it."
"That's ok," I said, starting to laugh a little. "I know the feeling well. Everybody has those days where they hate it. You've just got to make lemonade."
"Make lemonade?" the young boy asked, staring at me wide eyed as if I looked really stupid.
"You know that old saying?" I asked, coming closer. "When life gives you lemonade..."
"Make lemonade!" he said enthusiastically before I could finish. "Oh, I get it now!" With that, I turned and left the young boy. It didn't feel like I'd said or done much, but I saw the smile our conversation had left on the young boy's face as I rolled away.

Silhouette

For as long as I've been alive, every year, there's a day when my family has been a little more tense than usual, and a tiny bit upset behind the scenes. I once had an uncle, but due to an unfortunate tragedy, he's an uncle I've never known. Though unseen, I can sense the empty silhouette his absence leaves behind. He seems like a pretty cool guy from the pictures I've seen, the stories I've heard. I think, were he here, he'd be that cool uncle that everyone talks about. The one with the cool car and the most awesome presents on birthdays The one who you could come to in tricky situations when you'd rather your parents not know. The one who's tough, and just generally cool.

He may not be here anymore, physically at least, but the empty silhouette lingers still, and it always will. He might be gone, but he'll never truly be gone. No one ever is, so long as those they left behind still think of them. Even when a person is gone, their memory can live forever. When I was younger, I used to like to think that when someone passed on, they weren't going anywhere, but instead gaining the power of invisibility, and I believe that's true for him. If I pay close enough attention, it sometimes feels like he's here, somewhere, with us still.

Sometimes things like ghosts vanish over time. The longer the period the more the ghost disappears, but I prefer thinking of his shadow still here somewhere, and as long as I'm around, I'm determined not to let that shadow fade, not to let the silhouette go away. He'll still be here in some form, always and forever.

Trip Of A Lifetime

Naturally, my curiosity is going to grow when there's a large crowd gathered round. As I approach, I notice more people trying to push in and others who are simply trying to see what all the fuss is about. I'm one of those people, and, being the small person I am, I don't expect to have a problem squeezing through. All I want is a look, then I'll go and let someone else take my place. Like I said, natural curiosity. Besides, Everyone's a sticky beak at some point or another. Right?

Without any real effort on my part, I feel my jaw drop a few centimetres as I lay eyes on the focal point of the crowd. On the brick wall is a notice, typed clearly on an A4 piece of paper in black ink.
The Chance To Win The Trip Of A Lifetime
One lucky person will win the chance to take a trip beyond one's wildest dreams. For your chance to win, answer in fifty words or less; what you would do given the chance to time travel anywhere in the universe?
I make sure to commit to my memory where entries should be sent to as I turn away and push through the crowd, who are abruptly moving in the opposite direction to fill the now vacant space my departure creates.

The competition's question lingers in my mind as I make my way home. What would I do given the chance to go anywhere? There's so many things I could do. Correct mistakes I always wished I hadn't made, erase regret, simply relive a happy time in my life. The possibilities are so endless that it seems near impossible to select just one. This concept they talk about seems all like a good dream. Like it must be a dream because it's way too good to be true. There's a million things you could do with a chance like this. But that's the thing, there's only a chance. Just one. So I suppose you can see now what a difficult situation it is that I'm faced with.

For days now I've been trying to work out how I should answer this question, because this competition is one I wouldn't mind winning. Who would mind winning a competition like that? Really? To my great surprise, an idea comes to me, just about when I was was starting to give up. So, what would I do with the trip of a lifetime I hear you ask? I would go back to a time when all of my family was together and happy in order to relive it again. Though, if I'm honest, I think the real question is, what would you do wit the trip of a lifetime?