The young boy sat cross-legged on the floor, his head resting in his cupped hands, his elbows slowly digging into his knees. He let out a heavy sigh, just as his little sister came skipping happily into the room. She stopped at the sound of his breath and turned back to face him. "What is it?" She asked, placing her hands on her hips.
It took her brother a few minutes before he realised anyone had spoken. Slowly he looked up and met her big hazel eyes."huh?"
"What is it?" She asked.
"I wish they'd stop!"
"Are those boys being bullies again?" Her brother nodded glumly, averting his gaze downward again. "Well, it's no good just wishing," she said wisely.
"What?"
"It's your story. Just like my story is my story, your story is your story. No one's going to change it for you." Her brother stared at her silently.
"So?"
"If you always take it on the chin and wear it, nothing will change, Robert."
"If I sit around and let them get on top, I won't change a thing," he echoed in a whisper.
A bright smile spread speedily across his sister's lips. "Just because you find life's not far, it doesn't mean you have to grin and bear it. If you did that, you might as well be saying you think that it's ok.." she started to say.
"And, that's not right," her brother finished with her.
"Nobody else is going to put it right for me, nobody but me is going to change my story." At this, his little sister's smile couldn't possibly have been bigger.
Finally, Robert got to his feet, a tiny hint at a smile tugging at his lips, desperate to emerge.
"Molly," he said, resting a hand momentarily on the little girl's shoulder, "you're pretty clever for a six year old."
Molly shrugged. "It's your story," she said simply, "you get to write it."
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Inspired by the song 'Naughty' from Matilda the Musical. For more on Matilda's Australian run, visit their website here.
Sunday, November 29, 2015
Friday, November 20, 2015
Beyond The Window
A stream of tears trailed down her cheeks as she watched the scene through the window. She was smiling and laughing, as if nothing had ever happened. As if nothing had changed. That only made her cry more. Once, not all that long ago, hours, maybe, it had been her she'd been laughing and joking with. Now, it was everyone but her. "What changed?" she asked herself out loud in a whisper. "What happened? I don''t understand..."
She took a shaky breath and slowly got to her feet, beginning to pace the room, trying hard to put a stop to the flow of tears still longing to fall. But it wasn't just the tears now. Now, she felt like screaming too. "Aren't you allowed to have really bad days sometimes?" she asked, taking a glance back beyond the window, "I didn't think it was a crime..." She continued to pace mindlessly a long while, her sole focus on her breath. In, out, in, out, in, out.
Finally she stopped, looking back toward the window, and to her. "I'm sorry," she said, even though she knew she couldn't hear. "I'm sorry I'm not perfect. But you aren't either, and did I abandon you when you fell?" A lone tear tracked a trail down her cheek. "I thought I could count on you. I thought I could trust you." She didn't even worry about crying anymore and just let the tears fall, though she felt a little like a waterfall. "I'm sorry I made that mistake. You fooled me. You tricked me. I thought you were different. You proved me wrong."
She moved again to the seat by the window and brought her feet up too, hugging her knees tight. "I wish it weren't like this. Don't you see the damage you've caused? I don't know your reasons," she said, rising once more. "I don't see through your eyes." She paused, turning back to the window one last time. "But, I hear your silence. The sound of goodbye."
She took a shaky breath and slowly got to her feet, beginning to pace the room, trying hard to put a stop to the flow of tears still longing to fall. But it wasn't just the tears now. Now, she felt like screaming too. "Aren't you allowed to have really bad days sometimes?" she asked, taking a glance back beyond the window, "I didn't think it was a crime..." She continued to pace mindlessly a long while, her sole focus on her breath. In, out, in, out, in, out.
Finally she stopped, looking back toward the window, and to her. "I'm sorry," she said, even though she knew she couldn't hear. "I'm sorry I'm not perfect. But you aren't either, and did I abandon you when you fell?" A lone tear tracked a trail down her cheek. "I thought I could count on you. I thought I could trust you." She didn't even worry about crying anymore and just let the tears fall, though she felt a little like a waterfall. "I'm sorry I made that mistake. You fooled me. You tricked me. I thought you were different. You proved me wrong."
She moved again to the seat by the window and brought her feet up too, hugging her knees tight. "I wish it weren't like this. Don't you see the damage you've caused? I don't know your reasons," she said, rising once more. "I don't see through your eyes." She paused, turning back to the window one last time. "But, I hear your silence. The sound of goodbye."
Sunday, November 1, 2015
I'll Never Forget
I touched the ring in my pocket, the one I had told her father I wanted to offer his daughter. That was so long ago.
I look at her now, from the doorway to he room. She smiles sweetly at me from her place in bed, buried deep under the covers, which she has pulled up to her chin so all I can see is her face. We have shared a lifetime together. There have been a lifetime of treasured memories, a whole load of stories to cherish.
"Hello, my darling," I say as I softly sit on the edge of the bed, taking her warm hand in my own. I raise her hand to my lips and kiss it gently before letting it go.
"Hello," she says weakly, confusion evident in her voice.
"I'm Joseph, do you remember me?" I ask, reminding myself not to hope. "I've been coming to see you for a while now."
"I'm sorry," she says, her smile sad as her eyes meet mine.
"It's ok."
"But I shouldn't forget your name," she says.
"Oh?" I say, raising an eyebrow,
"Joseph was my husband's name."
"I've come to take you to dinner," I say after a moment, rising from the bed.
"Oh yes," her smile widened. "the nurses told me, they helped me pick a dress specially."
"Lovely," I say, smiling in return. "But first, my dear, I believe you lost something precious." I reach into my pocket and pull out the ring. Her face lights up and she gasps.
"Wherever did you find that?" she asks breathlessly. "My Joseph gave that to me!"
"Would you like me to put it on for you?" I ask. Eagerly, she nods, holding out her hand. Carefully, I slip the ring onto her finger. Just as I had done that night.
I offer a hand as she slowly, shakily gets out from under the covers.I gasp as she straightens up. She won't remember, but I do. I'll never forget it. It is the dress she wore the night I proposed.
I look at her now, from the doorway to he room. She smiles sweetly at me from her place in bed, buried deep under the covers, which she has pulled up to her chin so all I can see is her face. We have shared a lifetime together. There have been a lifetime of treasured memories, a whole load of stories to cherish.
"Hello, my darling," I say as I softly sit on the edge of the bed, taking her warm hand in my own. I raise her hand to my lips and kiss it gently before letting it go.
"Hello," she says weakly, confusion evident in her voice.
"I'm Joseph, do you remember me?" I ask, reminding myself not to hope. "I've been coming to see you for a while now."
"I'm sorry," she says, her smile sad as her eyes meet mine.
"It's ok."
"But I shouldn't forget your name," she says.
"Oh?" I say, raising an eyebrow,
"Joseph was my husband's name."
"I've come to take you to dinner," I say after a moment, rising from the bed.
"Oh yes," her smile widened. "the nurses told me, they helped me pick a dress specially."
"Lovely," I say, smiling in return. "But first, my dear, I believe you lost something precious." I reach into my pocket and pull out the ring. Her face lights up and she gasps.
"Wherever did you find that?" she asks breathlessly. "My Joseph gave that to me!"
"Would you like me to put it on for you?" I ask. Eagerly, she nods, holding out her hand. Carefully, I slip the ring onto her finger. Just as I had done that night.
I offer a hand as she slowly, shakily gets out from under the covers.I gasp as she straightens up. She won't remember, but I do. I'll never forget it. It is the dress she wore the night I proposed.
Wednesday, September 16, 2015
Wish You Were Here
I know I'm not the only one. Not the only one who wishes you were here. There's a million hearts that were hurting cause they loved you. They've bled because you've gone. Times with you are now irreplaceable memories to treasure. To cherish for a lifetime. There a still times when the thought of you will cause a tear, but most memories put smiles on our faces.
The stories, the pictures, the times we shared were all amazing. But I still wish you were here. I wish we could make new memories. There's so many things I wish I could tell you. So many things I wish I could say. So many things I wish I could do with you. I was going to do all those things. Say all those things. Make all those memories. We had all the time in the world. And then suddenly we didn't.. All of a sudden it was too late. All of a sudden, you were gone.
I like to think you're still here. Somewhere. Even if I can't see you. I look to think you're watching as life goes on. That you're not really missing out at all. You just can't be part of it so much anymore.
So, if you are still here, somewhere, know this. We still think of you. Everyday. We won't ever forget you. And we miss you. Keep watching though, and one day, we might see each other again.
The stories, the pictures, the times we shared were all amazing. But I still wish you were here. I wish we could make new memories. There's so many things I wish I could tell you. So many things I wish I could say. So many things I wish I could do with you. I was going to do all those things. Say all those things. Make all those memories. We had all the time in the world. And then suddenly we didn't.. All of a sudden it was too late. All of a sudden, you were gone.
I like to think you're still here. Somewhere. Even if I can't see you. I look to think you're watching as life goes on. That you're not really missing out at all. You just can't be part of it so much anymore.
So, if you are still here, somewhere, know this. We still think of you. Everyday. We won't ever forget you. And we miss you. Keep watching though, and one day, we might see each other again.
Saturday, August 1, 2015
Dark Horse
“Perry is back!” announced a woman loudly
as he walked into the room. He smiled graciously at the applauding crowd either
side of him, who had parted either side of him to make way for his entrance.
“Thank you,” he said as he reached the
woman who had announced his arrival, his assistant, Clea.
“It’s so good to have you back Perry. We’ve
missed you!”
“Aww, thanks Clea, it’s nice to know
someone noticed I was gone,”
“Mr. Roberts,” she said, returning to her
old, more formal ways of speaking, “you light this place up! Now, how are you
feeling?” she asked, rubbing her hands together. “Are you ready to make a
comeback?”
“I’m capable of anything Clea,” said Perry,
a huge smile on his face. “Let’s do this!”
“And Clea?”
“Yes Sir?” she stopped in her tracks, a
little further ahead and turned back to face him.
“What have I told you a thousand times?” he
asked good naturedly, a kind smile on his face. “Perry Roberts is my stage
name. Call me Paul. Please.”
“Ok… Paul..” Clea said uncertainly.
Paul rubbed his hands together as he
continued along down the hall with Clea. “I am so pumped! Let’s get down to
business shall we?”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this.. to you…
but, me too! Let’s do this!” Clea grabbed Paul’s hand and gave it a quick,
tight squeeze before letting go again. “Mister Perry,” she said with a
wink, opening the door to the studio.
“So,” Paul said, getting right to it with
the producer and recording people. “the first disc will be full of empowering
covers, and the second,” he said, pausing for dramatic effect, “will be full of
originals, collaborations with the fabulous Miss Perry herself. I want
this record to be one that inspires the kids to believe in themselves, that
tells them, ‘it’s ok to be who you are’.” At this, Clea, Paul and the recording
people jumped up and down with excitement. “We’re on a tight time frame people!”
Paul said loudly, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get to it! We’re going to
make this amazing!” There was a loud cheer from everyone in the room, then, silence. Perry Roberts had started serious work, and everyone knew what that meant. He wanted their best efforts. Now, he wanted focus, concentration, and silence.
There was baited breath as Paul set himself up in the studio, then a sigh of pleasure as he opened his mouth to sing. Everyone loved Perry's voice, and they were also huge fans of his greatest musical inspiration and were eagerly awaiting her arrival tomorrow, along with the chance to hear both of their voices, together.
And indeed, Mister Perry, was the comeback Paul had been hoping for. After a tricky last album and a bit of a downfall, this perfection of an album and the selfless, gracious chance the fabulous Miss Perry had given him, he was coming back with a vengeance.
"You did it Paul," said Clea after the album had been initially released.
"No Clea," he said, taking hold of her hand and fixing her with that dashing smile of his, "We did it. If it hadn't been for your encouragement, I probably wouldn't have come back and tried again. Thank you."
"It would have been a tragedy to lose someone as awesome as you Paul. The world needs Perry Roberts. Especially the young ones. To show them it's ok. To be themselves, to shine, and to dream big."
"World," said Paul, "You want to play with magic? I'm coming at you like a dark horse."
Clea cheered, clapping him on the back. "Woohoo! That's the spirit! Perry. Is Back!"
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Did Perry seem familiar? That's because you may have read about him before. Read the beginning of his story here.
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Conflicted
As she watched the scene before her, happiness and excitement swirled within her, mingled with another feeling. One she hadn't expected. She'd been part of that world once, and now, no longer. Why she left, she couldn't remember. All she knew now was that watching, she desired nothing more than to be part of it all once more.
Yet, it seemed in this case, as in many others before, that wants and desires were vastly different to the reality. It seemed a reunion was but a dream. One of those dreams one wishes with everything they had would come true. While on one hand, she desired a reunion with the world she'd once loved, on the other, so many reasons why a reunion couldn't take place seemed to present themselves like barriers suddenly blocking her path.
And so an internal battle of the mind ensued. Desires versus realities, wants versus happenings, what could be versus what will. An internal struggle, to which no end seemed apparent. It seemed the choices were this; accept what will be and what cannot be, or fight for what could be.
In varying shapes and forms, people have these battles of conscience every day, some big, others small. So, the question is, how important is it? The want versus the apparent reality? Is it worth fighting for? And most importantly, what will you do- accept or fight?
Yet, it seemed in this case, as in many others before, that wants and desires were vastly different to the reality. It seemed a reunion was but a dream. One of those dreams one wishes with everything they had would come true. While on one hand, she desired a reunion with the world she'd once loved, on the other, so many reasons why a reunion couldn't take place seemed to present themselves like barriers suddenly blocking her path.
And so an internal battle of the mind ensued. Desires versus realities, wants versus happenings, what could be versus what will. An internal struggle, to which no end seemed apparent. It seemed the choices were this; accept what will be and what cannot be, or fight for what could be.
In varying shapes and forms, people have these battles of conscience every day, some big, others small. So, the question is, how important is it? The want versus the apparent reality? Is it worth fighting for? And most importantly, what will you do- accept or fight?
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Winds Of Protection
Fiery, intimidating, confronting. Those may be some of the words one may use to describe him. Yet, while he seemed quite strong in character on the exterior, that's just his surface. There's something more there, if one were to take the time to delve deeper.
Truth be told, the tough, intimidating young man, behind closed doors, was really quite scarred. Having always been told "you're a fighter", he embraced this perceived persona following a time of great hurt and pain and slowly developed a tough, exterior shell, the intimidating, fiery, confronting man the outside world sees.
The cool breeze swirling around him as he goes about life, created by his purposeful energy reminds him of that awful night when the whole world felt like it had frozen over and it gets him fired up all over again and he moves on once more, repeating the cycle again.
Secretly, he hopes that someone will be able to make him pause and cool off, yet, any attempts at approach only seem to result in fear overtaking and he runs, petrified of getting hurt. He longs for someone patient. Someone who will persist long enough for him to give them a chance. Someone to help him learn to believe that not everyone in the world is bad.
Truth be told, the tough, intimidating young man, behind closed doors, was really quite scarred. Having always been told "you're a fighter", he embraced this perceived persona following a time of great hurt and pain and slowly developed a tough, exterior shell, the intimidating, fiery, confronting man the outside world sees.
The cool breeze swirling around him as he goes about life, created by his purposeful energy reminds him of that awful night when the whole world felt like it had frozen over and it gets him fired up all over again and he moves on once more, repeating the cycle again.
Secretly, he hopes that someone will be able to make him pause and cool off, yet, any attempts at approach only seem to result in fear overtaking and he runs, petrified of getting hurt. He longs for someone patient. Someone who will persist long enough for him to give them a chance. Someone to help him learn to believe that not everyone in the world is bad.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Last Friday Night
She couldn't help the smile that formed on her face as she read her own name on one of the letters she pulled from the mailbox. "That's sweet," she said to herself, setting it aside a moment while she quickly shuffled through the rest before putting her letter back on the top of the pile and wandering back inside, "no one ever writes letters anymore.."
Setting the other letters, none of which were for her, on the counter as she walked passed, she headed outside and slid easily into her egg chair, letter clutched tight in both hands. Finally, she teared it open and tucked the envelope into the cushion on which she sat, carefully unfolding her letter.
Dear Abbey, it started and she could help but giggle a little as she read her name.
I just wanted to write and thank you so much for last Friday night! I had such a great time and I don't think it would have been nearly as special without you there. I remember you mentioned how much you love old fashioned things like letters and so thought I'd surprise you. Surprise!
I remember, we danced on table tops, definitely took too many shots. Think we kissed, but I forgot? Do you remember more than I do? Half of it's a blacked out blur, but I'm pretty sure it ruled. Still trying to connect the dots... But anyway, I was planning on keeping it short & sweet, so I'll just say this; this Friday night, do it all again?
Randy
"Who are you?" Abbey asked under her breath as she rose from the egg chair. "Remember more than you do? I don't remember anything!" So lost in her thoughts, Abbey jumped as her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and looked at it. From: Randy- did you get my letter? Tomorrow's TGIF!!! As she read the text, Abbey raised a brow. O-k....
As she made her way back inside, she shook her head as she thought of her parents. "I'm screwed," she thought, "oh well." she shrugged and typed a response to Randy on her phone. yeah, let's do it all again. TGIF (tomorrow)!!
"Nothing to lose," she whispered to herself as she hit send.
Setting the other letters, none of which were for her, on the counter as she walked passed, she headed outside and slid easily into her egg chair, letter clutched tight in both hands. Finally, she teared it open and tucked the envelope into the cushion on which she sat, carefully unfolding her letter.
Dear Abbey, it started and she could help but giggle a little as she read her name.
I just wanted to write and thank you so much for last Friday night! I had such a great time and I don't think it would have been nearly as special without you there. I remember you mentioned how much you love old fashioned things like letters and so thought I'd surprise you. Surprise!
I remember, we danced on table tops, definitely took too many shots. Think we kissed, but I forgot? Do you remember more than I do? Half of it's a blacked out blur, but I'm pretty sure it ruled. Still trying to connect the dots... But anyway, I was planning on keeping it short & sweet, so I'll just say this; this Friday night, do it all again?
Randy
"Who are you?" Abbey asked under her breath as she rose from the egg chair. "Remember more than you do? I don't remember anything!" So lost in her thoughts, Abbey jumped as her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and looked at it. From: Randy- did you get my letter? Tomorrow's TGIF!!! As she read the text, Abbey raised a brow. O-k....
As she made her way back inside, she shook her head as she thought of her parents. "I'm screwed," she thought, "oh well." she shrugged and typed a response to Randy on her phone. yeah, let's do it all again. TGIF (tomorrow)!!
"Nothing to lose," she whispered to herself as she hit send.
Saturday, June 27, 2015
That Voice
"Go on!" They say, nudging me and smiling as I turn to look at them. To their credit, they are trying to be encouraging. "You know you want to Zoe!"
"You'll regret it if you don't!" For a moment, I stand with my eyes closed, silent and motionless. Then, before I can change my mind, I begin to walk through the crowd to increasing cheers from this around me. I take one look behind me and immediately spot the guys I work with, huge grins on their faces and each of them have two thumbs up. As I continue up toward the stage, I frown for a split second. Someone is missing...
I have not seen the full extent of the crowd yet. Slowly, I walk onto the stage and take the microphone, looking at the ground all the while. I take a breath before looking up and gently shutting my eyes again. I don't need the teleprompter thing. I've listened to this song so many times I've lost count and I'm confident that I know it off by heart. So, as the music starts and I open my mouth, my eyes remain firmly shut.
Up until now, the crowd before me has been completely silent. That is until I reach around the midpoint of the song, when another voice joins mine. Without giving myself a moment to doubt what I'm about to do, I open my eyes. As the two of us sing, my eyes wander the room, searching for the face belonging to the voice. That heavenly voice, singing in perfect harmony with mine. But the faces I see all seem to blur together, yet the voice is getting louder. Mystery person, mystery girl is getting closer.
Finally, it seems a spotlight is switched on as I lay eyes on the person belonging to that beautiful voice. Luckily, the song reaches an instrumental interlude as I get a clear view of the girl I've been singing with because for at least a minute, all I seem capable of doing is staring at her ad she moves through the crowd, coming closer still.
At last, she reaches the stage and takes the last few steps toward me as gracefully as ever. She seems to move effortlessly, as I can faintly remember her doing when we knew each other what now seems a lifetime ago. She reaches my side just in time to start the final verse of the song and together, we sing in perfect harmony, right up until the last, lingering note ends.
"I never thought I'd see you again," I say in a whisper as we leave the stage, arm in arm to a long, loud round of applause from the surrounding crowd.
"Come with me," she says, taking gentle hold of my wrist and leading me away through the crowd. She doesn't speak again until we are outside, alone. "Things aren't the same here, they're different, and there's something you need to know, Zoe."
"What?" I ask in a whisper so hushed even I only just hear it.
"I love you," she says and a wide smile stretches across my lips as a warm gust of wind envelops me, seemingly keen to join in my joy as she steps closer.
"I love you, too," I say in the same soft whisper just as she presses her lips to mine.
"You'll regret it if you don't!" For a moment, I stand with my eyes closed, silent and motionless. Then, before I can change my mind, I begin to walk through the crowd to increasing cheers from this around me. I take one look behind me and immediately spot the guys I work with, huge grins on their faces and each of them have two thumbs up. As I continue up toward the stage, I frown for a split second. Someone is missing...
I have not seen the full extent of the crowd yet. Slowly, I walk onto the stage and take the microphone, looking at the ground all the while. I take a breath before looking up and gently shutting my eyes again. I don't need the teleprompter thing. I've listened to this song so many times I've lost count and I'm confident that I know it off by heart. So, as the music starts and I open my mouth, my eyes remain firmly shut.
Up until now, the crowd before me has been completely silent. That is until I reach around the midpoint of the song, when another voice joins mine. Without giving myself a moment to doubt what I'm about to do, I open my eyes. As the two of us sing, my eyes wander the room, searching for the face belonging to the voice. That heavenly voice, singing in perfect harmony with mine. But the faces I see all seem to blur together, yet the voice is getting louder. Mystery person, mystery girl is getting closer.
Finally, it seems a spotlight is switched on as I lay eyes on the person belonging to that beautiful voice. Luckily, the song reaches an instrumental interlude as I get a clear view of the girl I've been singing with because for at least a minute, all I seem capable of doing is staring at her ad she moves through the crowd, coming closer still.
At last, she reaches the stage and takes the last few steps toward me as gracefully as ever. She seems to move effortlessly, as I can faintly remember her doing when we knew each other what now seems a lifetime ago. She reaches my side just in time to start the final verse of the song and together, we sing in perfect harmony, right up until the last, lingering note ends.
"I never thought I'd see you again," I say in a whisper as we leave the stage, arm in arm to a long, loud round of applause from the surrounding crowd.
"Come with me," she says, taking gentle hold of my wrist and leading me away through the crowd. She doesn't speak again until we are outside, alone. "Things aren't the same here, they're different, and there's something you need to know, Zoe."
"What?" I ask in a whisper so hushed even I only just hear it.
"I love you," she says and a wide smile stretches across my lips as a warm gust of wind envelops me, seemingly keen to join in my joy as she steps closer.
"I love you, too," I say in the same soft whisper just as she presses her lips to mine.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
California Gurls
Shelley stood with her arms folded, her slightly intimidating gaze making the young girl quiver a little. "Are you from California?" As Shelley spoke, an identical looking girl appeared beside her, adopting the same stance as her sister as her gaze came to rest on the young girl, who started to shake under the scrutiny of an extra onlooker.
"Well?" Shelley asked after a while, beginning to tap her foot with impatience. The young girl shook her head, turned and hurried away.
So far, the 'California Gurls' as Shelley liked to call them had two members, Shelley and her twin sister Skye. It could have been attributed to the fact that this very exclusive 'club' of sorts had very strict entry criterion- you had to come from California to join. Or, perhaps it could be that Shelley and her sister may have been just a little fussy about who they allowed to join them. "It's just you and me, against the world," Shelley had often told her sister, and so far, that's exactly the way it had panned out.
As they'd done every other lunch break, Shelley and Skye lay sun baking on top of a low garden wall. Or that's what it seemed. Truth be told, it was from this fortunate vantage point that the girls had the perfect view, through a few shrubs and greenery, of a group of boys who were considered to be the most popular in the school.
Little did they know, one guy lurking in the shadows behind the more 'popular' boys was watching them too. 'That is one pair of nice looking girls,' he thought to himself as he paced. 'Oh come on Ray!' He paused, running his hands quickly through his hair, over and over, his eyes locked on the pair of them, lying on their sides looking through the trees at the boys in front of him.Not that he could tell which girl was which of course (who could except the girls themselves), but Ray had to admit, he'd developed a bit of a crush.
One day, he followed someone intending to seek entry into the sunbathing girls' posse, sticking to the shadows so as not to be seen. He watched as the girl attempted to ask to join and was appaled at how quick the twins seemed to be to draw them away. He watched the same pattern repeat itself over again for a few days before deciding to conduct a little experiment.
It took all Ray had not to show his nerves as he finally emerged from the shadows. "Do you think I could hang with you guys?" he asked when one approached him. The girl, who seemed slightly taller than the one who hadn't yet come over looked him up and down, thoroughly and he felt quite self conscious, as if she had x-ray vision or something that could reveal all his secrets just from a look. "Do you come from California?" she asked finally, meeting his eyes, arms folded across her chest. By this time, her sister stood at her side and back a bit and was in the process of giving him a quick once-over for herself as they awaited his answer.
"You could say that," he said, looking at his shoe a moment.
"Well, we're the California Gurls, and you're not exactly a girl, so..." The first girl stopped as her sister touched her arm.
"Hey," she said quietly, so Ray could only just hear. "He is pretty cute." The first girl glanced at him again a moment before turning her attention back to her sister.
"I don't know.."
"I say we give him a chance," said her sister, "He looks cool. We could be the California Gurls, plus..." she looked at him expectantly.
"Ray," he said quickly.
"The California Gurls plus Ray," she finished, "soumds cool enough, don't you think?"
"Skye, we were gonna show those mean ones what they did to us. Give them a taste of their own medicine!" said the first girl persistantly.
"May I say something?" Ray asked hesitantly and the girls turned to look at him. He said nothing for a moment, a little stunned they were giving him a chance. "There are other ways to show people. To... to get revenge."
"Thank you!" said Skye happily. "See Shelley?"
"Like what?" Shelley asked, eyes locked on him.
"Well, my grandmother always taught me to treat others how you'd like to be treated, and I gather you didn't exactly like being excluded?"
Shelley shook her head.
"But isn't that what you're doing now?" he asked, gulping down the nerves threatening to show themselves.
Shelley bowed her head and nodded shamefully. A moment of silence passed before she looked at him again. "It all sounded so good in theory!" she said as she and Skye led Ray into the little space they'd claimed for their own. "I had this little daydreams. The boys break their necks, tryna' creep a little sneak peek at us. We'd be the California Gurls. Unforgettable."
"We still can be," Skye said brightly, looking at Ray. "We've got a pretty cool guy right here. I mean, how are we going to look, with him on our arm?" She took a breath. "Ray was right, Shell. There are other ways of getting revenge, so let's go show 'em!"
"Well?" Shelley asked after a while, beginning to tap her foot with impatience. The young girl shook her head, turned and hurried away.
So far, the 'California Gurls' as Shelley liked to call them had two members, Shelley and her twin sister Skye. It could have been attributed to the fact that this very exclusive 'club' of sorts had very strict entry criterion- you had to come from California to join. Or, perhaps it could be that Shelley and her sister may have been just a little fussy about who they allowed to join them. "It's just you and me, against the world," Shelley had often told her sister, and so far, that's exactly the way it had panned out.
As they'd done every other lunch break, Shelley and Skye lay sun baking on top of a low garden wall. Or that's what it seemed. Truth be told, it was from this fortunate vantage point that the girls had the perfect view, through a few shrubs and greenery, of a group of boys who were considered to be the most popular in the school.
Little did they know, one guy lurking in the shadows behind the more 'popular' boys was watching them too. 'That is one pair of nice looking girls,' he thought to himself as he paced. 'Oh come on Ray!' He paused, running his hands quickly through his hair, over and over, his eyes locked on the pair of them, lying on their sides looking through the trees at the boys in front of him.Not that he could tell which girl was which of course (who could except the girls themselves), but Ray had to admit, he'd developed a bit of a crush.
One day, he followed someone intending to seek entry into the sunbathing girls' posse, sticking to the shadows so as not to be seen. He watched as the girl attempted to ask to join and was appaled at how quick the twins seemed to be to draw them away. He watched the same pattern repeat itself over again for a few days before deciding to conduct a little experiment.
It took all Ray had not to show his nerves as he finally emerged from the shadows. "Do you think I could hang with you guys?" he asked when one approached him. The girl, who seemed slightly taller than the one who hadn't yet come over looked him up and down, thoroughly and he felt quite self conscious, as if she had x-ray vision or something that could reveal all his secrets just from a look. "Do you come from California?" she asked finally, meeting his eyes, arms folded across her chest. By this time, her sister stood at her side and back a bit and was in the process of giving him a quick once-over for herself as they awaited his answer.
"You could say that," he said, looking at his shoe a moment.
"Well, we're the California Gurls, and you're not exactly a girl, so..." The first girl stopped as her sister touched her arm.
"Hey," she said quietly, so Ray could only just hear. "He is pretty cute." The first girl glanced at him again a moment before turning her attention back to her sister.
"I don't know.."
"I say we give him a chance," said her sister, "He looks cool. We could be the California Gurls, plus..." she looked at him expectantly.
"Ray," he said quickly.
"The California Gurls plus Ray," she finished, "soumds cool enough, don't you think?"
"Skye, we were gonna show those mean ones what they did to us. Give them a taste of their own medicine!" said the first girl persistantly.
"May I say something?" Ray asked hesitantly and the girls turned to look at him. He said nothing for a moment, a little stunned they were giving him a chance. "There are other ways to show people. To... to get revenge."
"Thank you!" said Skye happily. "See Shelley?"
"Like what?" Shelley asked, eyes locked on him.
"Well, my grandmother always taught me to treat others how you'd like to be treated, and I gather you didn't exactly like being excluded?"
Shelley shook her head.
"But isn't that what you're doing now?" he asked, gulping down the nerves threatening to show themselves.
Shelley bowed her head and nodded shamefully. A moment of silence passed before she looked at him again. "It all sounded so good in theory!" she said as she and Skye led Ray into the little space they'd claimed for their own. "I had this little daydreams. The boys break their necks, tryna' creep a little sneak peek at us. We'd be the California Gurls. Unforgettable."
"We still can be," Skye said brightly, looking at Ray. "We've got a pretty cool guy right here. I mean, how are we going to look, with him on our arm?" She took a breath. "Ray was right, Shell. There are other ways of getting revenge, so let's go show 'em!"
Saturday, May 30, 2015
Shivers Despite The Warmth
It may not have seemed all that obvious to the world outside, but I could feel myself trembling as if the walls around me were made of ice. But, in actual fact, the temperature was quite comfortable. Yet, I still tremoured uncontrollably. Have you ever heard the phrase 'shaking like a leaf'? Well, that was me. Why? Well, my friends, there's this little thing. A little emotion driven by adrenaline. For some, it's signalled by a racing hurt, some people's breathing quickens or slows while others talk really fast or can't get even a word to pass their lips. But for me, I shake. And I shake a lot. And right there and then, I was in a cold environment with not enough layers on and I was experiencing a little hypothermia. At least, that's would it would appear to anyone looking in.
But, all my shaking had nothing to do with the temperature. Not that that mattered. We were inside, where the temperature was controlled. So why, I can hear you ask, and I imagine you're getting quite agitated. All this suspense is killing you, right? Well, here it is; I was shaking not because of the temperature but because of that small emotion some know as anxiety, others as fear. But in this situation, I think it would best be described as nerves. Perhaps a severe case of nerves, but nerves all the same.
So there I was, shaking all of the leaves off of a tree as I tried to psyche myself up. Today is the day I confront my fear. I never like to say negative things about others or admit weaknesses for fear people will think I'm being difficult. But today, that's exactly what I have to do, and so I sit here, and shake.
"So," she says, a bright, warm smile on her face. "What brings you here today?" I offer a weak smile in return and take a moment before speaking. "Well," I began, and from there, it all just flowed. It all came flooding out, and though I still shook, the severity of my tremouring seemed to have lessened considerably. The whole time, I watched her and she was nodding her agreement. When it was finally all out, I felt a heavy breath escape my lips.
"It feels good, doesn't it?" She asked, the brightness of her tone matching her mega-watt smile. I said nothing, simply taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of that heavy weight having been lifted from my shoulders as she speaks again. "I'm very glad you came to me. Because we can do something about it now. So thank you for coming to me. It was very brave of you because I could see that it was really getting to you."
"Thank you," was all I could think to say, and even then it came out a little breathless.
The smile finally erupted on my lips when the fresh air hit me in a strong gust of wind as I stepped outside and I could feel the elated spring in my step that had replaced the earlier shakes. I couldn't help but pause to spin in a happy little circle on the path. Even though in reality I had only taken the first step, it felt as if the battle was over. I had someone on my side!
All the fear, anxiety and worry from earlier has gone completely. I don't seem able to put a name on the feeling which replaces it. There's immense relief. But that's only part. This feeling swirling round within me making me smile uncontrollably is amazingly incredibly wonderful, and I feel on top of the world at the prospect of light at the end of the tunnel. At the knowledge that there is a little hope ahead.
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I know it's hard but if there is a tough situation that you want changed, I encourage you to seek someone you trust and ask for their support in taking steps to resolve the problem. Because even the feeling of getting the ball rolling is simply unbeatable!
But, all my shaking had nothing to do with the temperature. Not that that mattered. We were inside, where the temperature was controlled. So why, I can hear you ask, and I imagine you're getting quite agitated. All this suspense is killing you, right? Well, here it is; I was shaking not because of the temperature but because of that small emotion some know as anxiety, others as fear. But in this situation, I think it would best be described as nerves. Perhaps a severe case of nerves, but nerves all the same.
So there I was, shaking all of the leaves off of a tree as I tried to psyche myself up. Today is the day I confront my fear. I never like to say negative things about others or admit weaknesses for fear people will think I'm being difficult. But today, that's exactly what I have to do, and so I sit here, and shake.
"So," she says, a bright, warm smile on her face. "What brings you here today?" I offer a weak smile in return and take a moment before speaking. "Well," I began, and from there, it all just flowed. It all came flooding out, and though I still shook, the severity of my tremouring seemed to have lessened considerably. The whole time, I watched her and she was nodding her agreement. When it was finally all out, I felt a heavy breath escape my lips.
"It feels good, doesn't it?" She asked, the brightness of her tone matching her mega-watt smile. I said nothing, simply taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of that heavy weight having been lifted from my shoulders as she speaks again. "I'm very glad you came to me. Because we can do something about it now. So thank you for coming to me. It was very brave of you because I could see that it was really getting to you."
"Thank you," was all I could think to say, and even then it came out a little breathless.
The smile finally erupted on my lips when the fresh air hit me in a strong gust of wind as I stepped outside and I could feel the elated spring in my step that had replaced the earlier shakes. I couldn't help but pause to spin in a happy little circle on the path. Even though in reality I had only taken the first step, it felt as if the battle was over. I had someone on my side!
All the fear, anxiety and worry from earlier has gone completely. I don't seem able to put a name on the feeling which replaces it. There's immense relief. But that's only part. This feeling swirling round within me making me smile uncontrollably is amazingly incredibly wonderful, and I feel on top of the world at the prospect of light at the end of the tunnel. At the knowledge that there is a little hope ahead.
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I know it's hard but if there is a tough situation that you want changed, I encourage you to seek someone you trust and ask for their support in taking steps to resolve the problem. Because even the feeling of getting the ball rolling is simply unbeatable!
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Hot N Cold
"I should know that you're no good for me," she said, starting to walk away. He started after her, reaching out just in time to brush his fingertips against her arm. She stopped, turning and glaring at him, clearly unimpressed. "It's over," she said, forcefully snatching her arm away, out of his reach.
"Please," he said, trying to hide the desperation from his voice. "Give me another chance, or,"" she said, seeing she was about to move again, "at least let me explain."
"What is there to explain?" she asked, arms folded across her chest, brow raised. "You're moody all the time Brady, and there's only so much of it I can take. I've had enough."
"There's a reason for it," he said.
She didn't move a muscle and neither of them said anything until she finally broke the silence. "Well?" she adjusted her stance so there was more weight on one foot than the other as she waited.
Here was his chance. Maybe the last. To explain, to tell her the truth. Yet, he stood there, frozen, silent.
"You're hot than you're cold, you're yes than you're no, you're in than you're out..." she took a breath. "But what gets me most is, you're up than you're down. I feel like I'm stuck on a roller coaster Brady,, and I can't get off this ride. " When she finally spoke, it all came spilling out like the lid had been taken off of a bottle and it was overflowing. "I should know that you're not gonna change."
"No, but I can't help it, though I try." He finally managed to get out a few words. Her arms tightened across her chest. She'd give him a few more seconds, she decided, because she was kind.
He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, reluctantly but finally meeting her eyes. "Jen, there's something you should know." Here goes, he though, firmly gulping down his nerves. "I have bipolar disorder," he said, breathing a sigh of relief that he'd finally managed to get the words out. "That's why I'm always so hot n' cold."
As he met her eyes once more, any nerves that he'd had a moment ago dissipated completely. All judgement in her face had gone and her hard expression had softened. "Brady, why didn't you tell me this before?" she asked, stepping forward and touching his arm. "You should have told me long before now! I was starting to think the confident, bubbly you was an act to reel girls in."
He let out a small chuckle. "No. You met me in one of my 'up' phases Jen, but then I got stuck on a 'down'. I'm sorry yo had to deal with me like that so early on," he said, smiling at last. "But you have to know something."
"Mmm.." she murmured, leaning lovingly into him as they walked.
"You played a big role in pulling me up again."
"Please," he said, trying to hide the desperation from his voice. "Give me another chance, or,"" she said, seeing she was about to move again, "at least let me explain."
"What is there to explain?" she asked, arms folded across her chest, brow raised. "You're moody all the time Brady, and there's only so much of it I can take. I've had enough."
"There's a reason for it," he said.
She didn't move a muscle and neither of them said anything until she finally broke the silence. "Well?" she adjusted her stance so there was more weight on one foot than the other as she waited.
Here was his chance. Maybe the last. To explain, to tell her the truth. Yet, he stood there, frozen, silent.
"You're hot than you're cold, you're yes than you're no, you're in than you're out..." she took a breath. "But what gets me most is, you're up than you're down. I feel like I'm stuck on a roller coaster Brady,, and I can't get off this ride. " When she finally spoke, it all came spilling out like the lid had been taken off of a bottle and it was overflowing. "I should know that you're not gonna change."
"No, but I can't help it, though I try." He finally managed to get out a few words. Her arms tightened across her chest. She'd give him a few more seconds, she decided, because she was kind.
He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, reluctantly but finally meeting her eyes. "Jen, there's something you should know." Here goes, he though, firmly gulping down his nerves. "I have bipolar disorder," he said, breathing a sigh of relief that he'd finally managed to get the words out. "That's why I'm always so hot n' cold."
As he met her eyes once more, any nerves that he'd had a moment ago dissipated completely. All judgement in her face had gone and her hard expression had softened. "Brady, why didn't you tell me this before?" she asked, stepping forward and touching his arm. "You should have told me long before now! I was starting to think the confident, bubbly you was an act to reel girls in."
He let out a small chuckle. "No. You met me in one of my 'up' phases Jen, but then I got stuck on a 'down'. I'm sorry yo had to deal with me like that so early on," he said, smiling at last. "But you have to know something."
"Mmm.." she murmured, leaning lovingly into him as they walked.
"You played a big role in pulling me up again."
Monday, April 6, 2015
Find Your Way
Glued to the spot, she looked around her, eyes widening at the sea of unfamiliar people. A moment ago, she had been following those oh so familiar bright blue sneakers, her hand firmly clasped in someone else's so this very thing would not happen. She had always been taught that when you get lost, don't move from the same spot you were in and look around. She couldn't move anyway, the sea was that dense. Every person seemed to blur into the next until all she seemed to be able to see was a huge blur of colour.
She closed her eyes and the sea disappeared into complete blackness. She stood still like that a moment, her sole focusing on breathing. In, out, in, out. She relaxed a great deal when she opened her eyes and the sea of people had disappeared completely.
The peace, however, only lasted a brief moment before the swarm of buzzing began in her mind. Thoughts. Many, many thoughts, swirling around in her mind. So many that it seemed nearly impossible to distinguish between them or pull any one from the pile. So many that she felt sure her head would soon explode from the pressure.
She looked behind her warily at the clear, though dark path with the spooky air about it and shuddered as the chills ran their way down her spine. That was one thing gone. She knew, for sure, that she didn't want to go back that way. So, that left the maze of paths before her, of which there were several. But the real question is, which to take.
Again, she closed her eyes and took a breath. Long ago, the path had been easier. There'd been that bright blue sneaker clad figure with their hand outstretched toward her. Now, that figure did not stretch their hand out toward her, but instead stood on the sidelines, watching. "sometimes, you have to get lost to find your way." that same figure had once told her.
"Well, I'm definitely lost!" she said out aloud, folding her arms across her chest as her eyes slowly scanned each of the paths in front of her. She knew continuing to stand there would not get her anywhere. She had to take a path. But which one?
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
It Takes Two
Slowly, she looked up, brushing the hair from her eyes to see her friend's smiling face looking back at her. "Hey now," she said gently. "Don't give him the satisfaction."
"What?" She said quietly.
"Don't cry over him Tonya," her friend said. "He's not worth your tears.
"No," said Tonya, standing up and brushing a stray hair from her face. "You're right. What am I supposed to do? I have to... I have to get back at him..."
"No," still her friend's voice was calm. "That would be stooping down to his level. Do you really want to do that? Because you and I both know that you're better than that."
"I am," said Tonya, squeezing her friend's hand. "You are so smart!"
Her friend laughed. "Thank you," she said, "but it's just me. It's just how I think."
"So what do I do then?" Tonya asked. "There are other ways to get revenge," said her friend, giving her a sidelong wink. "Other, indirect ways. All you've got to do is show him how good you are."
"Yes," said Tonya, "go out, live life and have fun doing it!"
"That's the spirit!"
"It wasn't just him though," said her friend, her tone a touch more serious than before. "You've got to remember that. He may have been the one who hurt you the most, but it takes two to tango."
"I can't keep ignoring it," said Tonya, "can't keep ignoring her. So how do I show her?"
"Her?" Said her friend, "the best thing to do is just forget her. Because, though it takes two to tango, he's the one who made that choice."
"What?" She said quietly.
"Don't cry over him Tonya," her friend said. "He's not worth your tears.
"No," said Tonya, standing up and brushing a stray hair from her face. "You're right. What am I supposed to do? I have to... I have to get back at him..."
"No," still her friend's voice was calm. "That would be stooping down to his level. Do you really want to do that? Because you and I both know that you're better than that."
"I am," said Tonya, squeezing her friend's hand. "You are so smart!"
Her friend laughed. "Thank you," she said, "but it's just me. It's just how I think."
"So what do I do then?" Tonya asked. "There are other ways to get revenge," said her friend, giving her a sidelong wink. "Other, indirect ways. All you've got to do is show him how good you are."
"Yes," said Tonya, "go out, live life and have fun doing it!"
"That's the spirit!"
"It wasn't just him though," said her friend, her tone a touch more serious than before. "You've got to remember that. He may have been the one who hurt you the most, but it takes two to tango."
"I can't keep ignoring it," said Tonya, "can't keep ignoring her. So how do I show her?"
"Her?" Said her friend, "the best thing to do is just forget her. Because, though it takes two to tango, he's the one who made that choice."
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Portrait Of An Apology
At the expression on her face, though to most very non- worrisome, one young boy 's facial features scrunched up closer together in response. He squeezed his eyes shut firmly, too quick to see the brief potentially negative expression on his mother's face had evaporated into a smile, before he turned and wandered wordlessly away.
She stood looking after her son, seemingly frozen in place with her mouth slightly agape. "J..." was the last sound to escape her lips before he had gone from hearing distance. She always tried, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that once he had an idea in his head, her son was set. He could be a very driven little boy when he wanted to be, and when he set his mind to something, it sometimes seemed his sole focus right up until the task's completion.
Sure enough, as she had come to expect, her son returned to her hours later, his hands clasped behind his back, a sorrow filled, regretful expression filling his small features. "Mummy," he said in a whisper. "I'm sorry if I made you sad."
"Jessie," she said, her soft tone matching his to an extent. "It's ok Sweetie. You don 't have to apologise for every little mistake you make. Especially not with me. Just keep them in mind so you don't make the same mistakes next time."
Solemnly, her little boy nodded, his expression turning serious as his eyes remained fixed on hers.
"Yes Mummy," he said, holding a piece of paper out toward her. "I made you this, to say sorry." As soon as she took the paper from him, his hands were once again behind his back as he turned and walked away, presumably back to his room.
After his little figure was no longer visible down the hall, she turned her attention to the paper she held in her hand, one of many... 'Portraits of Apologies' as she liked to call them. In this, it showed a sun with a beaming smile (labelled 'Mummy') hidden by grey clouds that had raindrops falling from them. Below the small drawing, he'd tried to write, and the apparent improvement in his penmanship caused her smile to return as she read the words;
Mummy is my sunshine,
And when I do something that makes her sad,
It's like a rain loud covers her sun and starts to let the raindrops fall,
That makes me sad too, and I'm sorry to make you sad, Mummy
Because suns shouldn't be hidden by rain clouds.
They should be there, all the time,
Shining bright and making everyone who sees them smile too.
She sighed as she wandered down the hall to her room, adding Jessie's latest artwork to the collection of 'apology portraits' she had already. "Another one for the collection," she said with a smile. "Such a beautiful little boy I have."
She stood looking after her son, seemingly frozen in place with her mouth slightly agape. "J..." was the last sound to escape her lips before he had gone from hearing distance. She always tried, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that once he had an idea in his head, her son was set. He could be a very driven little boy when he wanted to be, and when he set his mind to something, it sometimes seemed his sole focus right up until the task's completion.
Sure enough, as she had come to expect, her son returned to her hours later, his hands clasped behind his back, a sorrow filled, regretful expression filling his small features. "Mummy," he said in a whisper. "I'm sorry if I made you sad."
"Jessie," she said, her soft tone matching his to an extent. "It's ok Sweetie. You don 't have to apologise for every little mistake you make. Especially not with me. Just keep them in mind so you don't make the same mistakes next time."
Solemnly, her little boy nodded, his expression turning serious as his eyes remained fixed on hers.
"Yes Mummy," he said, holding a piece of paper out toward her. "I made you this, to say sorry." As soon as she took the paper from him, his hands were once again behind his back as he turned and walked away, presumably back to his room.
After his little figure was no longer visible down the hall, she turned her attention to the paper she held in her hand, one of many... 'Portraits of Apologies' as she liked to call them. In this, it showed a sun with a beaming smile (labelled 'Mummy') hidden by grey clouds that had raindrops falling from them. Below the small drawing, he'd tried to write, and the apparent improvement in his penmanship caused her smile to return as she read the words;
Mummy is my sunshine,
And when I do something that makes her sad,
It's like a rain loud covers her sun and starts to let the raindrops fall,
That makes me sad too, and I'm sorry to make you sad, Mummy
Because suns shouldn't be hidden by rain clouds.
They should be there, all the time,
Shining bright and making everyone who sees them smile too.
She sighed as she wandered down the hall to her room, adding Jessie's latest artwork to the collection of 'apology portraits' she had already. "Another one for the collection," she said with a smile. "Such a beautiful little boy I have."
Friday, March 13, 2015
Sun Comes Shining Through
At first, he gazed unseeingly at the endless sea of blue before him. The deep blue of the rhythmically lapping ice cold waters and the vibrant pale blue of the sky overhead, dotted here and there with fluffy clouds, the very colour of pearls. Though the sun beating down should have warmed him, he shivered still, for the cracks in his heart still felt like piercing icicles, stabbing repetitively at already open, gaping wounds.
He had been so lost in his own mindless little dreamworld that he'd completely lost track of the time. Suddenly, he blinked, shaking his head like a wet dog trying to dry off. He blinked again with a sharp intake of breath as the sight before him made a connection with his mind. He allowed gravity to pull him back down on to the park bench as a lone tear traced a quickening path from his eye. Finally, his eyes moved, turning up toward the sky. "Everything happens for a reason," he managed to say in a whisper, touching his fingers to his throat, trying to feel for the lump that seemed to be lodged there. His gaze drifted to the increasing number of clouds rolling in overhead, darkening in shades till they were more black than white. "But I'm still looking for the reason, for the silver lining in the cloud."
As the rain began to fall with increasing heaviness, he sat motionlessly, slowly growing saturated as he looked up at it. Again, he became lost in his own mind, returning only to reality at the sudden sensation of something touching his skin, making him jump. Slowly, he looked round to see a pale hand on his shoulder. His eyes traced a path up from the hand, to their arm, shoulder, and finally, at their smiling, kind eyed face.
"You looked like you could use some shelter," said the woman, holding her umbrella a little closer.
"Thank you," he said, rising to his feet with a slight wince at the effort.
"Shall we go find somewhere a little... less wet?" She asked hopefully. "I mean, it's beautiful here, but..." She gestured upward at the sky, and the rain still falling down.
"Sure," he said, smiling as he exhaled slowly.
He glanced at her before looking out the window. "I did think that that was reflective of how I felt," he said.
She reached across the table for his hand and he met her eyes once more as she spoke, "and now?"
"Now," he said slowly, "now the sun is starting to shine through the clouds."
He had been so lost in his own mindless little dreamworld that he'd completely lost track of the time. Suddenly, he blinked, shaking his head like a wet dog trying to dry off. He blinked again with a sharp intake of breath as the sight before him made a connection with his mind. He allowed gravity to pull him back down on to the park bench as a lone tear traced a quickening path from his eye. Finally, his eyes moved, turning up toward the sky. "Everything happens for a reason," he managed to say in a whisper, touching his fingers to his throat, trying to feel for the lump that seemed to be lodged there. His gaze drifted to the increasing number of clouds rolling in overhead, darkening in shades till they were more black than white. "But I'm still looking for the reason, for the silver lining in the cloud."
As the rain began to fall with increasing heaviness, he sat motionlessly, slowly growing saturated as he looked up at it. Again, he became lost in his own mind, returning only to reality at the sudden sensation of something touching his skin, making him jump. Slowly, he looked round to see a pale hand on his shoulder. His eyes traced a path up from the hand, to their arm, shoulder, and finally, at their smiling, kind eyed face.
"You looked like you could use some shelter," said the woman, holding her umbrella a little closer.
"Thank you," he said, rising to his feet with a slight wince at the effort.
"Shall we go find somewhere a little... less wet?" She asked hopefully. "I mean, it's beautiful here, but..." She gestured upward at the sky, and the rain still falling down.
"Sure," he said, smiling as he exhaled slowly.
He glanced at her before looking out the window. "I did think that that was reflective of how I felt," he said.
She reached across the table for his hand and he met her eyes once more as she spoke, "and now?"
"Now," he said slowly, "now the sun is starting to shine through the clouds."
Thursday, March 5, 2015
If You Want To Try and Change The World
She followed the gaze of her friend to see themselves in the mirror, her friend in full profile and her lingering behind.
"Hey," she said gently at the sudden tears rolling down her friend's cheeks. "What's wrong?"
"I don't like myself, or the way I look," said her friend in a whisper. "I've tried. I've tried to accept it. But... But I just... can't."
"Who cares what you look like?" she said.
"I do Hallie!"
"Well, yes, ok," said Hallie, "but that shouldn't matter. What should matter is what's in here." She touched a hand to her chest, and her friend smiled. "In here is what really counts. And in here, you're as stunning as a supermodel is on the outside. But for all we know, the supermodel could be as ugly as on the inside."
"Thanks Hallie," said her friend, finally turning to face her. "Why can't everyone be like you?"
"I don't know. I wish they could be. The world would be a much better place then, hey?"
"Why don't you like yourself, Mel?" Hallie asked.
"Look at all these marks on my arms," said Mel, glancing at herself in the mirror once again. Lightly, Hallie brushed her fingertips along her friend's forearm before stepping back a little, meeting Mel's eyes in the mirror. "Those scars..."
"Are ugly." Mel cut in before Hallie could finish, frowning as she squinted her eyes, stepping closer to the mirror as if these two things, done in combination would magnify her view.
"No," said Hallie, gently yet firmly holding her friend's gaze. "I was going to say that those scars, they could be ugly. You could choose to think of them that way, or, they could be reminders."
Finally, Mel's gaze rose from the floor to meet Hallie's eyes in the mirror. "Reminders?"
"Reminders of your past. Reminders so that you don't make the same mistakes over again."
"That's clever," Mel said, a smile cracking her slightly down turned lips.
"It's a way of embracing it," Hallie said simply. "You say that it would be great if everyone could be like me, right? With the rosy coloured vision of the world? The not caring about people's outer appearances, but rather, what's on the inside?" Mel nodded. "This could be a first step in it. I think that the first step in changing the world is trying to alter our own perceptions."
Mel shrugged. "That's all you can do really, isn't it?"
Then, it was Hallie's turn to nod. "The best way to change the world, if that's what you want to try and do, is to lead by example. Focus on you, because that's the only thing you can control."
"Everyone needs to be more like you, Hallie."
"No, because that would take away their uniqueness if they were exactly the same as me."
"If we all had your positive outlook, the world would be nicer."
"Maybe," said Hallie, exhaling lightly, "but Mel, you've got to focus on yourself first, before you even think about trying to lead by example."
"How do I do that?"
"We've got to get you liking yourself," said Hallie. "Work on believing those scars are reminders of the mistakes you've made, still there so you remember not to make those same mistakes again."
"Right," said Mel. "Reminders..."
"Hey," she said gently at the sudden tears rolling down her friend's cheeks. "What's wrong?"
"I don't like myself, or the way I look," said her friend in a whisper. "I've tried. I've tried to accept it. But... But I just... can't."
"Who cares what you look like?" she said.
"I do Hallie!"
"Well, yes, ok," said Hallie, "but that shouldn't matter. What should matter is what's in here." She touched a hand to her chest, and her friend smiled. "In here is what really counts. And in here, you're as stunning as a supermodel is on the outside. But for all we know, the supermodel could be as ugly as on the inside."
"Thanks Hallie," said her friend, finally turning to face her. "Why can't everyone be like you?"
"I don't know. I wish they could be. The world would be a much better place then, hey?"
"Why don't you like yourself, Mel?" Hallie asked.
"Look at all these marks on my arms," said Mel, glancing at herself in the mirror once again. Lightly, Hallie brushed her fingertips along her friend's forearm before stepping back a little, meeting Mel's eyes in the mirror. "Those scars..."
"Are ugly." Mel cut in before Hallie could finish, frowning as she squinted her eyes, stepping closer to the mirror as if these two things, done in combination would magnify her view.
"No," said Hallie, gently yet firmly holding her friend's gaze. "I was going to say that those scars, they could be ugly. You could choose to think of them that way, or, they could be reminders."
Finally, Mel's gaze rose from the floor to meet Hallie's eyes in the mirror. "Reminders?"
"Reminders of your past. Reminders so that you don't make the same mistakes over again."
"That's clever," Mel said, a smile cracking her slightly down turned lips.
"It's a way of embracing it," Hallie said simply. "You say that it would be great if everyone could be like me, right? With the rosy coloured vision of the world? The not caring about people's outer appearances, but rather, what's on the inside?" Mel nodded. "This could be a first step in it. I think that the first step in changing the world is trying to alter our own perceptions."
Mel shrugged. "That's all you can do really, isn't it?"
Then, it was Hallie's turn to nod. "The best way to change the world, if that's what you want to try and do, is to lead by example. Focus on you, because that's the only thing you can control."
"Everyone needs to be more like you, Hallie."
"No, because that would take away their uniqueness if they were exactly the same as me."
"If we all had your positive outlook, the world would be nicer."
"Maybe," said Hallie, exhaling lightly, "but Mel, you've got to focus on yourself first, before you even think about trying to lead by example."
"How do I do that?"
"We've got to get you liking yourself," said Hallie. "Work on believing those scars are reminders of the mistakes you've made, still there so you remember not to make those same mistakes again."
"Right," said Mel. "Reminders..."
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Winds of Fire
Once, there was a young boy. A young boy who, by nature, could be very focused, very driven and very determined when he wanted to be. What the young boy, Yao, loved more than anything else was night time, before bed when the sky would darken and his tribe would light a big fire.
"Yao!" his mother would always say as his eyes lit up bright at what, for him, never failed to be a novelty. "Be careful!"
Yao loved the fire; the way it danced in the air, the warming quality it brought to the wind that swirled around him, the vibrant colours, illuminating the otherwise pitch black of the sky. Often, the dancing flames seemed to act like a hypnotic, completely capturing him so to the rest of the world, he was lost. His mother looked on from a small distance, wide eyed. She'd try to capture his attention, but Yao didn't even seem to hear her at all. Instead, he moved forward at a snail's pace, barely an inch at a time.
The flame was given only a moment to lick at the side of the young boy's face before he was snatched away to safety by an older man from the tribe. As he held him firmly by the shoulders, the boy's eyes were somewhat absent, looking past the man instead of returning his gaze, until Yao took a deep inhalation of breath, suddenly seeming to focus on the man in front of him, having spontaneously snapped out of the trance he'd been under.
At once, the man's gaze hardened. "Yao!" he said sternly, the words coming in some sort of grunt. "What were you thinking?!" Yao turned instinctively at the wail like scream to see his mother approaching, eyes wide and tears streaming in a constant, quick rhythm down her cheeks. "Look at you!" she said, and Yao noticed the man step away as his mother reached out for him, her hands touching and stroking his face. "My beautiful boy!" As her fingers connected with one particular part of the side of his face, Yao's face involuntary contorted into a hard wince as the strange pain coursed through his blood. Immediately, his mother stepped back. "Are you hurt?" she asked, her expression turning into one of worry. In spite of the stinging sensation he felt, Yao bowed his head and shook it. "I could not say," he said.
"Look at your face!" she said, a pleading quality to her eyes as she examined the spot which served as the source of the stinging. "That will leave a scar!"
And that it did. It took a long while for the small, angry burn Yao had sustained to mellow from it's initial raging red, to a pale pink colour before paling to the lingering white it would remain as a reminder of Yao's unfortunate ill-fated venture, that touch to close to the fire.
At first, Yao stayed away from the fire, the trauma causing him fear of a reoccurrence. But as he grew older, Yao's more dominant driven nature prevailed and the allure of the dancing flames became too great, causing him to return.
The serious scowl not an unusual expression on his face these days broke a brief moment as he felt the familiar warm winds of the fire's essence swirl around him. Yao was unaware of quite how powerful the gust of wind had been as he stood at the edge of the clearing reserved specially for these nightly gatherings round the fire until everyone surrounding the fire on logs turned to look at him. Occasionally glancing around him at the people all staring back at him, Yao strolled up the dirt strewn path to resume his place in the closest row of logs to the fire. Just as quickly as it had come, the attention on Yao dissipated and everything seemed to return to normal.
No one gave Yao's return a second thought. Until, nights later when the tribe decided to have a dance round the fire. Yao was quick to get involved, enthusiastically dancing about and waving his arms in the air. It only took one observant person to notice. Everyone stopped and turned to face the woman who had called out. "Everyone," she said, "try and watch both Yao and the fire." Confused, a lot of the tribe shrugged, glancing periodically from the fire to Yao, occasionally back at the woman as well. "Yao," she said and his gaze returned to rest on hers. "Lift your arms," and he did.
"Look!" Someone called, pointing toward the fire. "Yao, keep moving your arms, up and down." As he did so, the fire rose and fell in perfect synchrony with the movement of his arms.
"Yao controls the fire!" At this, Yao could mot help but smile, and suddenly the little light in his eyes illuminated brighter, resembling the vibrant fire behind him.
Legend has it that it is indeed Yao who controls the fire, and with his endless energy, it dances along with him, a constant, willing partner in a passionate tango of sorts. You'll notice the fire really come alive when the wild, dancing flames are reflected in Yao's eyes and the mischievous nature always at his heart is really allowed to shine as he thrives in his element.
"Yao!" his mother would always say as his eyes lit up bright at what, for him, never failed to be a novelty. "Be careful!"
Yao loved the fire; the way it danced in the air, the warming quality it brought to the wind that swirled around him, the vibrant colours, illuminating the otherwise pitch black of the sky. Often, the dancing flames seemed to act like a hypnotic, completely capturing him so to the rest of the world, he was lost. His mother looked on from a small distance, wide eyed. She'd try to capture his attention, but Yao didn't even seem to hear her at all. Instead, he moved forward at a snail's pace, barely an inch at a time.
The flame was given only a moment to lick at the side of the young boy's face before he was snatched away to safety by an older man from the tribe. As he held him firmly by the shoulders, the boy's eyes were somewhat absent, looking past the man instead of returning his gaze, until Yao took a deep inhalation of breath, suddenly seeming to focus on the man in front of him, having spontaneously snapped out of the trance he'd been under.
At once, the man's gaze hardened. "Yao!" he said sternly, the words coming in some sort of grunt. "What were you thinking?!" Yao turned instinctively at the wail like scream to see his mother approaching, eyes wide and tears streaming in a constant, quick rhythm down her cheeks. "Look at you!" she said, and Yao noticed the man step away as his mother reached out for him, her hands touching and stroking his face. "My beautiful boy!" As her fingers connected with one particular part of the side of his face, Yao's face involuntary contorted into a hard wince as the strange pain coursed through his blood. Immediately, his mother stepped back. "Are you hurt?" she asked, her expression turning into one of worry. In spite of the stinging sensation he felt, Yao bowed his head and shook it. "I could not say," he said.
"Look at your face!" she said, a pleading quality to her eyes as she examined the spot which served as the source of the stinging. "That will leave a scar!"
And that it did. It took a long while for the small, angry burn Yao had sustained to mellow from it's initial raging red, to a pale pink colour before paling to the lingering white it would remain as a reminder of Yao's unfortunate ill-fated venture, that touch to close to the fire.
At first, Yao stayed away from the fire, the trauma causing him fear of a reoccurrence. But as he grew older, Yao's more dominant driven nature prevailed and the allure of the dancing flames became too great, causing him to return.
The serious scowl not an unusual expression on his face these days broke a brief moment as he felt the familiar warm winds of the fire's essence swirl around him. Yao was unaware of quite how powerful the gust of wind had been as he stood at the edge of the clearing reserved specially for these nightly gatherings round the fire until everyone surrounding the fire on logs turned to look at him. Occasionally glancing around him at the people all staring back at him, Yao strolled up the dirt strewn path to resume his place in the closest row of logs to the fire. Just as quickly as it had come, the attention on Yao dissipated and everything seemed to return to normal.
No one gave Yao's return a second thought. Until, nights later when the tribe decided to have a dance round the fire. Yao was quick to get involved, enthusiastically dancing about and waving his arms in the air. It only took one observant person to notice. Everyone stopped and turned to face the woman who had called out. "Everyone," she said, "try and watch both Yao and the fire." Confused, a lot of the tribe shrugged, glancing periodically from the fire to Yao, occasionally back at the woman as well. "Yao," she said and his gaze returned to rest on hers. "Lift your arms," and he did.
"Look!" Someone called, pointing toward the fire. "Yao, keep moving your arms, up and down." As he did so, the fire rose and fell in perfect synchrony with the movement of his arms.
"Yao controls the fire!" At this, Yao could mot help but smile, and suddenly the little light in his eyes illuminated brighter, resembling the vibrant fire behind him.
Legend has it that it is indeed Yao who controls the fire, and with his endless energy, it dances along with him, a constant, willing partner in a passionate tango of sorts. You'll notice the fire really come alive when the wild, dancing flames are reflected in Yao's eyes and the mischievous nature always at his heart is really allowed to shine as he thrives in his element.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Living Reflection
I look absently out the window as the bus trundles along down the road, completely tuned out from the world. Music coming through the headphones over my ears, I can't help but bop my head along to the beat of the song. What? It's catchy...
I am brought back to reality so abruptly that I literally jump a little in my seat. Up till now, the scenery outside has all been the same. Blue sky with white, fluffy clouds dotting it's endless expanse here and there, tall, leafy trees every now and again, paths beside the road on which we travel and bright green grass. Lots of bright green grass.
I feel my eyes go wide as I spot the figure. At first, my eyes simply graze over them, like they've been doing with everything else, and then, I look back. That figure looked familiar... I swear I've seen them somewhere before....
I let out a sigh of relief as the bus stops to let someone on and press my face as close as it will go to the window, squinting hard in order to try and get a clearer view of this person. Whoever they are. All I can make out from this distance is that they are of an average height, and they have dark brown hair, a similar shade to my own, if not the same shade.
I shake my head, realising it was them the bus was stopping for. My eyes are glued to them as they move to step on and I wait with baited breath for them to come closer and give me a better look at them. I shudder at how creepy my own thoughts sound and avert my eyes back to the window.
But, as the sound of footsteps come closer as the new passengers make their way down the aisle to find seats, I can't help but look back. I breathe a sigh of relief as I spot the seemingly familiar person, who has not yet passed me. Again, my eyes are glued, but I try as hard as I can to be unobtrusive, casually switching my gaze from them to the view beyond the bus window, making sure to spend more time looking out the window then at them.
I look over again just in time to see they've slept into the empty seat right across the aisle from me. I look them up and down before averting my gaze once more, closing my eyes to focus on the image in my mind. There's a reason this person looks familiar, I realise as I open my eyes and look at them again. I shudder as their gaze meets mine and it suddenly all makes sense. I am looking back at me.
It's like looking into a mirror, except I'm not. I'm right there. In front of me. It can't be right, I think and blink, but I'm still there, looking exactly as I do right at that moment. My mouth falls open as I stare back at myself.
"Come," says the other me as the bus stops again. Intrigued, I would have gotten up and followed them, but I don't have much of a say in the matter as I grab my wrist and drag me up the aisle after me.
I am more or less led blind and am instructed to sit down again before I am allowed to open my eyes. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the intense darkness surrounding me, but once they do, I look around, taking in my surrounding before my eyes come to rest on the other me, standing a few feet away with arms crossed over their chest, looking back at me. They step forward into the only piece of light in the room, coming, I suppose, from a random hole in the roof overhead. I feel myself stiffen as I see what the other me holds in his hands. A gun. Pointed squarely at me. On sheer instinct, I swiftly raise my hands in surrender. "Please!" I say, my voice sounding foreign as it hits my ears. "Don't shoot!"
I let out an involuntary sigh as the other me lowers his gun slightly and begins to circle me, in stunned motionless silence in my chair. "What do you want from me?" I hear myself ask in a whisper. "with me?"
The other me pauses directly in front of me, looks up slightly in order to meet my eyes, or, more accurately, look at my eyes from under his hood, and grunts. "I am working on orders." He says in a gruff voice.
"Orders?" I somehow manage to echo his words. "Orders from whom?"
"I cannot say," he says, averting his gaze away from me. "Though you may relax. The gun was merely a tool to ensure your compliance." As he speaks, the other me slowly loosens his grip on the gun, and I wince as it falls to the ground with a clatter. "You cannot die, for one day, you are to become me."
I simply stare back at the other me, now standing a few feet away, holding my gaze from the safety of the shadows, and blink.
"This brings me to the reason behind our acquaintance," he says and I struggle to resist laughing at his choice of words. "Though it was inevitable." I remain silent, waiting for him to continue, confident there is more. "Now is when your training begins." In a few, swift movements, he is behind me, coaxing me to stand up, and frightened by the possibility of the gun's return, I do.
"Training for what?" I ask as I straighten up.
"That," says the other me, "is for me to know, and you to find out."
I am brought back to reality so abruptly that I literally jump a little in my seat. Up till now, the scenery outside has all been the same. Blue sky with white, fluffy clouds dotting it's endless expanse here and there, tall, leafy trees every now and again, paths beside the road on which we travel and bright green grass. Lots of bright green grass.
I feel my eyes go wide as I spot the figure. At first, my eyes simply graze over them, like they've been doing with everything else, and then, I look back. That figure looked familiar... I swear I've seen them somewhere before....
I let out a sigh of relief as the bus stops to let someone on and press my face as close as it will go to the window, squinting hard in order to try and get a clearer view of this person. Whoever they are. All I can make out from this distance is that they are of an average height, and they have dark brown hair, a similar shade to my own, if not the same shade.
I shake my head, realising it was them the bus was stopping for. My eyes are glued to them as they move to step on and I wait with baited breath for them to come closer and give me a better look at them. I shudder at how creepy my own thoughts sound and avert my eyes back to the window.
But, as the sound of footsteps come closer as the new passengers make their way down the aisle to find seats, I can't help but look back. I breathe a sigh of relief as I spot the seemingly familiar person, who has not yet passed me. Again, my eyes are glued, but I try as hard as I can to be unobtrusive, casually switching my gaze from them to the view beyond the bus window, making sure to spend more time looking out the window then at them.
I look over again just in time to see they've slept into the empty seat right across the aisle from me. I look them up and down before averting my gaze once more, closing my eyes to focus on the image in my mind. There's a reason this person looks familiar, I realise as I open my eyes and look at them again. I shudder as their gaze meets mine and it suddenly all makes sense. I am looking back at me.
It's like looking into a mirror, except I'm not. I'm right there. In front of me. It can't be right, I think and blink, but I'm still there, looking exactly as I do right at that moment. My mouth falls open as I stare back at myself.
"Come," says the other me as the bus stops again. Intrigued, I would have gotten up and followed them, but I don't have much of a say in the matter as I grab my wrist and drag me up the aisle after me.
I am more or less led blind and am instructed to sit down again before I am allowed to open my eyes. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the intense darkness surrounding me, but once they do, I look around, taking in my surrounding before my eyes come to rest on the other me, standing a few feet away with arms crossed over their chest, looking back at me. They step forward into the only piece of light in the room, coming, I suppose, from a random hole in the roof overhead. I feel myself stiffen as I see what the other me holds in his hands. A gun. Pointed squarely at me. On sheer instinct, I swiftly raise my hands in surrender. "Please!" I say, my voice sounding foreign as it hits my ears. "Don't shoot!"
I let out an involuntary sigh as the other me lowers his gun slightly and begins to circle me, in stunned motionless silence in my chair. "What do you want from me?" I hear myself ask in a whisper. "with me?"
The other me pauses directly in front of me, looks up slightly in order to meet my eyes, or, more accurately, look at my eyes from under his hood, and grunts. "I am working on orders." He says in a gruff voice.
"Orders?" I somehow manage to echo his words. "Orders from whom?"
"I cannot say," he says, averting his gaze away from me. "Though you may relax. The gun was merely a tool to ensure your compliance." As he speaks, the other me slowly loosens his grip on the gun, and I wince as it falls to the ground with a clatter. "You cannot die, for one day, you are to become me."
I simply stare back at the other me, now standing a few feet away, holding my gaze from the safety of the shadows, and blink.
"This brings me to the reason behind our acquaintance," he says and I struggle to resist laughing at his choice of words. "Though it was inevitable." I remain silent, waiting for him to continue, confident there is more. "Now is when your training begins." In a few, swift movements, he is behind me, coaxing me to stand up, and frightened by the possibility of the gun's return, I do.
"Training for what?" I ask as I straighten up.
"That," says the other me, "is for me to know, and you to find out."
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
E.T.
Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open to reveal the rested clear aqua eyes hidden beneath. Curiously, she looked around her. She was met with blinding white, everywhere she looked. She tried to speak, but no sound came out. Her eyes widened increasingly as she looked down to see a tube stuck in her mouth. Unable to move, she helplessly flailed her arms about in hopes someone would see.
At long last, a nurse approached, a small stretching slowly across her lips. "You're awake! Welcome back Miss Opal!" Swiftly, the nurse bustled about, removing the tube from Opal's throat. After a few sharp intakes of breath, Opal spoke. "Where am I?"
"You're at the hospital," said the nurse kindly, pausing in her movements. "Mr... Uh.. I don't know his name, but he's been round here every day."
"Carlisle?" asked Opal, slightly out of breath.
"No, not Carlisle... Certainly not Carlisle," said the nurse, gazing at the wall. "I'm not sure what his name was.." her eyes turned back to Opal. "Here, he left this behind, with the flowers." Handing her the card, she pointed at a beautiful bouquet of blue and purple hydrangeas on the table positioned against the wall opposite her bed. As the nurse left, Opal peered down at the card. Dearest Opal, it read in a neat, curly scrawl, I trust you'll rest well and I'll see you when you wake.
-E.T.
Opal stared at his signature for a long while. E.T? E.T? The last time she checked, she was with Carlisle. His initials did not include an E, nor a T. So, who was this E.T?
Opal looked up to see the nurse had returned, and was frowning at the expression on her face. "Are you ok, Miss Opal?" she asked softly, reaching behind her to fluff the pillows behind her head.
"Who's this E.T?"
"Well, I imagine he's your partner, Miss Opal. He's come in to see you nearly every day. Oh dear..." the nurse stopped, looking back at her. "You don't remember, do you?" Opal remained silent, unsure of what to say. "I can't seem to recall anything about an E.T." Opal said. "The last thing I remember, I was with Carlisle. Nurse, what happened to me?"
"Um... well.." the nurse sank into a nearby plastic chair by Opal's bedside, leaning forward and clasping her hands together. "Miss Opal, you were in an accident. You've been unconscious for a few weeks now." The nurse suddenly gets to her feet, as if responding to a silent prompt. "Oh. I'd best get the doctor, and would you like me to call your fellow for you as well?"
Opal was silent a moment before slowly nodding in response. "Yes," she said, "I think I'd like to meet this E.T. He sounds... intriguing."
The nurse jovially clapped her hands together like a small child as she made to leave the room to make the calls. "He does doesn't he!"
"Hi Opal!" A gentle though deep sounding voice floated across the room and she looked up at him just as he reached her bedside. He reached out to touch her forehead, but the moment his fingers grazed against her, she shrunk away.
"I'm sorry," he said, sinking into the chair he'd pulled closer, settling for simply resting his clasped hands on the edge of the bed frame.
"She's experiencing a little bit of memory loss," said a passing nurse in a serious tone, pausing briefly in the doorway.
"Oh," he said, turning back to her after glancing at the nurse. "I'm sorry. How are you feeling?"
"Alright. A little confused."
"Perhaps I can help," he said, offering a tiny hint at a smile. "Fill you in a little. How much do you remember?"
"I was with Carlisle," she said. It was all that seemed relevant right now. This man was a complete stranger. But he seemed nice.
"Do you remember me? At all?" he asked, sounding desperate. Apologetically, she shook her head as her eyes fell to her bed sheets.
"Nothing?"
"You're an alien to me," she said honestly, holding his gaze. "Your touch, so foreign." She glanced at his hand on the bed frame and he extended it toward her. She lightly rested her own hand atop his before meeting his eyes once more. Her breath got caught as she looked at him and she felt a tingle run all the way down her spine.
"Well, we haven't been going out long," he said. "In fact, the night of your accident was also the night of our first date." Her eyes were locked on him as he recounted the story, and by the end, she had a smile on the end. "There's not so much to rewind, so what do you say we redeem our relationship?"
She blinked. "I'd like that," she said, interlacing their fingers together as her smile widened. "I think I'm ready for redemption."
"Ok," he said. "We'll take it one step at a time then."
"I just have to know one thing though," she said, glancing at the smiley nurse from earlier who just happened to show up in the doorway at that very moment. "What's E.T. stand for?"
"Oh, I should have done that." A smile quickly spread across his lips. "I'm so sorry Opal! I'm Eric," he slipped his hand from beneath hers and held it out toward her as if they were strangers meeting for the first time, which to Opal, was exactly what it felt like. "Eric Tate."
"I'm Opal," she said, shaking his hand.
At long last, a nurse approached, a small stretching slowly across her lips. "You're awake! Welcome back Miss Opal!" Swiftly, the nurse bustled about, removing the tube from Opal's throat. After a few sharp intakes of breath, Opal spoke. "Where am I?"
"You're at the hospital," said the nurse kindly, pausing in her movements. "Mr... Uh.. I don't know his name, but he's been round here every day."
"Carlisle?" asked Opal, slightly out of breath.
"No, not Carlisle... Certainly not Carlisle," said the nurse, gazing at the wall. "I'm not sure what his name was.." her eyes turned back to Opal. "Here, he left this behind, with the flowers." Handing her the card, she pointed at a beautiful bouquet of blue and purple hydrangeas on the table positioned against the wall opposite her bed. As the nurse left, Opal peered down at the card. Dearest Opal, it read in a neat, curly scrawl, I trust you'll rest well and I'll see you when you wake.
-E.T.
Opal stared at his signature for a long while. E.T? E.T? The last time she checked, she was with Carlisle. His initials did not include an E, nor a T. So, who was this E.T?
Opal looked up to see the nurse had returned, and was frowning at the expression on her face. "Are you ok, Miss Opal?" she asked softly, reaching behind her to fluff the pillows behind her head.
"Who's this E.T?"
"Well, I imagine he's your partner, Miss Opal. He's come in to see you nearly every day. Oh dear..." the nurse stopped, looking back at her. "You don't remember, do you?" Opal remained silent, unsure of what to say. "I can't seem to recall anything about an E.T." Opal said. "The last thing I remember, I was with Carlisle. Nurse, what happened to me?"
"Um... well.." the nurse sank into a nearby plastic chair by Opal's bedside, leaning forward and clasping her hands together. "Miss Opal, you were in an accident. You've been unconscious for a few weeks now." The nurse suddenly gets to her feet, as if responding to a silent prompt. "Oh. I'd best get the doctor, and would you like me to call your fellow for you as well?"
Opal was silent a moment before slowly nodding in response. "Yes," she said, "I think I'd like to meet this E.T. He sounds... intriguing."
The nurse jovially clapped her hands together like a small child as she made to leave the room to make the calls. "He does doesn't he!"
"Hi Opal!" A gentle though deep sounding voice floated across the room and she looked up at him just as he reached her bedside. He reached out to touch her forehead, but the moment his fingers grazed against her, she shrunk away.
"I'm sorry," he said, sinking into the chair he'd pulled closer, settling for simply resting his clasped hands on the edge of the bed frame.
"She's experiencing a little bit of memory loss," said a passing nurse in a serious tone, pausing briefly in the doorway.
"Oh," he said, turning back to her after glancing at the nurse. "I'm sorry. How are you feeling?"
"Alright. A little confused."
"Perhaps I can help," he said, offering a tiny hint at a smile. "Fill you in a little. How much do you remember?"
"I was with Carlisle," she said. It was all that seemed relevant right now. This man was a complete stranger. But he seemed nice.
"Do you remember me? At all?" he asked, sounding desperate. Apologetically, she shook her head as her eyes fell to her bed sheets.
"Nothing?"
"You're an alien to me," she said honestly, holding his gaze. "Your touch, so foreign." She glanced at his hand on the bed frame and he extended it toward her. She lightly rested her own hand atop his before meeting his eyes once more. Her breath got caught as she looked at him and she felt a tingle run all the way down her spine.
"Well, we haven't been going out long," he said. "In fact, the night of your accident was also the night of our first date." Her eyes were locked on him as he recounted the story, and by the end, she had a smile on the end. "There's not so much to rewind, so what do you say we redeem our relationship?"
She blinked. "I'd like that," she said, interlacing their fingers together as her smile widened. "I think I'm ready for redemption."
"Ok," he said. "We'll take it one step at a time then."
"I just have to know one thing though," she said, glancing at the smiley nurse from earlier who just happened to show up in the doorway at that very moment. "What's E.T. stand for?"
"Oh, I should have done that." A smile quickly spread across his lips. "I'm so sorry Opal! I'm Eric," he slipped his hand from beneath hers and held it out toward her as if they were strangers meeting for the first time, which to Opal, was exactly what it felt like. "Eric Tate."
"I'm Opal," she said, shaking his hand.
Friday, January 23, 2015
Fly In Your Ear
At first, I could swat it away as one would a fly. But as it loomed nearer, it became the sort of fly that lingers right next to your ear, buzzing peskily and persistently, teasing you. "I'm not going anywhere! There's nothing you can do about me!" it seemed to be saying.
The nearer it is, the closer the fly hovers, the louder the buzzing becomes, the harder it becomes to swat. The fly gets a little cheeky, flitting this way and that, expertly dodging your flailing hands, even only by the skin of it's teeth.
I had no choice but to ignore it, no matter how loud the buzzing grew, no matter how hard it became. Because if I didn't ignore it, the fly and it's buzzing would consume me completely. It would take me over and quite possibly drive me insane.
Though it can't be denied that it takes a great deal of strength, it's not entirely impossible to ignore the constant buzzing of the fly in your ear. You must focus, and have patience and perseverance. It takes time to hone any skill, and if one loses patience and gives up, the fly will return, it will buzz. Louder and fly stronger. Unless, you stand up to the fly.
Flies may seem small and a mere pest, but don't let them fool you, and whatever you do, don't let them catch you off guard. Because, if they catch you off guard... Small they may be, but flies are also somewhat smart. At the first sign of weakness or abandon, they come racing toward you. It passes by in a blur. They come toward you, the buzz growing louder and louder until it's all you can hear. Until it engulfs your mind entirely.
I could almost hear you asking, "how? how do you know all of this?" Well, I know all of this because it's happened to me. On several an occasion. At first I was weak and the fear was able to take over my mind. It made me tremble and shake, even shed a few tears. And later on, just when I thought I'd gotten rid of it for good, it returned. It came back to haunt me, figuring, I suppose, that I was an easy target. But then, I started to fight back. Suddenly, it was harder to get to me and the fear returned less and less. But, if I give in, even the slightest bit, the fear sees the opportunity and comes back to see how much it can get into my head.
So, here's the thing. You can stand up to the fear. You can fight the fly in your ear. You can regain control and you can be strong. But I forgot to mention the biggest secret of all, and that is this; to be able to fight this battle of the mind, and win, you must have faith in yourself.
We all know it. You know it and I know it. You are strong and you can do this. I can't promise the battle will ever go away completely. Fear will always be present. But the stronger you become, the easier it is to fight and the fly in your ear will grow weaker in return. If nothing else, remember this; you are the power source of the fear. You are the one who controls it's supply, so how much power will you give it?
The nearer it is, the closer the fly hovers, the louder the buzzing becomes, the harder it becomes to swat. The fly gets a little cheeky, flitting this way and that, expertly dodging your flailing hands, even only by the skin of it's teeth.
I had no choice but to ignore it, no matter how loud the buzzing grew, no matter how hard it became. Because if I didn't ignore it, the fly and it's buzzing would consume me completely. It would take me over and quite possibly drive me insane.
Though it can't be denied that it takes a great deal of strength, it's not entirely impossible to ignore the constant buzzing of the fly in your ear. You must focus, and have patience and perseverance. It takes time to hone any skill, and if one loses patience and gives up, the fly will return, it will buzz. Louder and fly stronger. Unless, you stand up to the fly.
Flies may seem small and a mere pest, but don't let them fool you, and whatever you do, don't let them catch you off guard. Because, if they catch you off guard... Small they may be, but flies are also somewhat smart. At the first sign of weakness or abandon, they come racing toward you. It passes by in a blur. They come toward you, the buzz growing louder and louder until it's all you can hear. Until it engulfs your mind entirely.
I could almost hear you asking, "how? how do you know all of this?" Well, I know all of this because it's happened to me. On several an occasion. At first I was weak and the fear was able to take over my mind. It made me tremble and shake, even shed a few tears. And later on, just when I thought I'd gotten rid of it for good, it returned. It came back to haunt me, figuring, I suppose, that I was an easy target. But then, I started to fight back. Suddenly, it was harder to get to me and the fear returned less and less. But, if I give in, even the slightest bit, the fear sees the opportunity and comes back to see how much it can get into my head.
So, here's the thing. You can stand up to the fear. You can fight the fly in your ear. You can regain control and you can be strong. But I forgot to mention the biggest secret of all, and that is this; to be able to fight this battle of the mind, and win, you must have faith in yourself.
We all know it. You know it and I know it. You are strong and you can do this. I can't promise the battle will ever go away completely. Fear will always be present. But the stronger you become, the easier it is to fight and the fly in your ear will grow weaker in return. If nothing else, remember this; you are the power source of the fear. You are the one who controls it's supply, so how much power will you give it?
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
What's Normal Anyway?
"What?" she gasped, staring at him, wide eyed. "How? What? Why? You don't deserve that!" with each word she spoke, her voice grew louder and louder. It was a struggle not to straight out scream.
"Thank you." Was all he could think to say in response.
"I don't get it," she said honestly, her voice a whisper. "How can they be so cruel to someone so wonderful?"
"They don't know me," he said simply. "All they know is what I am."
"It's part of who you are. It doesn't define you! It shouldn't define you!"
"It's different, and in this day and age, different causes heads to turn. Different is seen as wrong."
"What's different?" she asked loudly, rising swiftly to her feet. "Really? Somebody tell me what it is, because I don't know!"
"It's..." her friend started to say, abruptly closing his mouth as she opened hers.
"No! There is no such thing as different." He breathed a sigh of relief at the lessened volume of her voice. "No one's exactly the same. Not even identical twins!"
"Okay, Pia, what are you saying?"
"Well, if no one's exactly the same, how can there be a 'normal'? and if there's no 'normal', then how can someone be different?"
"Hmm..." he said as they sat down again.
"So what's normal anyway?" she said. "Because no one's version of what normal is is the same. So how can there be a normal?"
"You make a good point," he said. "In an ideal world... if only everyone was as accepting and willing to make a stand as you are."
"I just don't get it" she said, all the fire apparently drained from her system. "I was always taught not to judge a book by it's cover. So to come out and see people judging others so harshly, just because they're not like them ... It all feels so foreign, and unfair, and..." crying now, she paused to sniffle a little. "I think I liked it better in my little shell, where I didn't know about the cruelty that awesome people like you have to face everyday, so unfairly."
"Well," he said, taking a breath. "It takes people to make a change, and the more people in support of something, the sooner the change arrives. Maybe you could join the movement." He stood up, smiling at the idea that entered his mind. "Hell! Pia, you could lead the movement with your passion!"
"Thank you." Was all he could think to say in response.
"I don't get it," she said honestly, her voice a whisper. "How can they be so cruel to someone so wonderful?"
"They don't know me," he said simply. "All they know is what I am."
"It's part of who you are. It doesn't define you! It shouldn't define you!"
"It's different, and in this day and age, different causes heads to turn. Different is seen as wrong."
"What's different?" she asked loudly, rising swiftly to her feet. "Really? Somebody tell me what it is, because I don't know!"
"It's..." her friend started to say, abruptly closing his mouth as she opened hers.
"No! There is no such thing as different." He breathed a sigh of relief at the lessened volume of her voice. "No one's exactly the same. Not even identical twins!"
"Okay, Pia, what are you saying?"
"Well, if no one's exactly the same, how can there be a 'normal'? and if there's no 'normal', then how can someone be different?"
"Hmm..." he said as they sat down again.
"So what's normal anyway?" she said. "Because no one's version of what normal is is the same. So how can there be a normal?"
"You make a good point," he said. "In an ideal world... if only everyone was as accepting and willing to make a stand as you are."
"I just don't get it" she said, all the fire apparently drained from her system. "I was always taught not to judge a book by it's cover. So to come out and see people judging others so harshly, just because they're not like them ... It all feels so foreign, and unfair, and..." crying now, she paused to sniffle a little. "I think I liked it better in my little shell, where I didn't know about the cruelty that awesome people like you have to face everyday, so unfairly."
"Well," he said, taking a breath. "It takes people to make a change, and the more people in support of something, the sooner the change arrives. Maybe you could join the movement." He stood up, smiling at the idea that entered his mind. "Hell! Pia, you could lead the movement with your passion!"
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
One With Nature
At first glance, the surroundings are far too dark to be able to make out any one, single thing. But as my eyes adjust, the glassy lake before me and the trees, still dark with the light of the moon, become clearer. As the environment grew on me, my ears become attuned to the sounds in the woods. At first, the croaks of frogs nearby seem,a whisper in the still night air, but then, the sound became louder until it is a constant, deafening buzz right in my ear.
The noise of the frogs' croaks faded away and my ears prick up as I hear it. The loud, mourning sound, travelling at speed through the wind to meet my ears fills me with a strange pleasure that I don't completely understand. I know it is far away, but it seems as if the creature belonging to these mournful cries is standing right next to me.
I stand still, looking straight ahead of me, but not really seeing what's there. In this moment, my mind is more in touch with the sounds of the night. The lake lapping gently against the shoreline, the wind, whipping through the trees, the soft padding of feet, falling into step on the dirt strewn path.
I look back to see Rose, watching me anxiously from our little campsite. "Barney," comes her voice in the chilly breeze. "Barney, come back to..." I watch as she stops mid sentence, her eyes growing wide. I look around me to see a big, furry wolf padding out toward me from among the trees. Involuntarily, I let out a shiver before inhaling and exhaling deeply, resuming my calm composure.
I do not move even an inch as the wolf comes closer circling me, it's fur occasionally brushing ticklishly against the bare skin of my arms and legs. It comes closer still, brushing up against me and wrapping its neck around mine. Still, I don't move.
There is silence moment before the excruciating pain ensues, foreign and unexpected, it flows through my veins, taking over me. I dropped my knees as it engulfs me completely and hear Rose running toward me from behind, letting out an empathetic cry at my pain. I look back just in time to see her reach out to me, then she shies away. I look at her cautiously before glancing at the wolf by my side not able to understand what's happening. My eyes widen as I feel my most cherished memories of myself and raise seem to fade away. I look back at her in horror and she returns my gaze, her eyes full of fear.
With the wolf shadowing me, I step forward towards the lake. My eyes widen even more with the sight that greets me. I am just like the creature beside me. Somehow, I'm wolf. That fact should scare me it doesn't. I'm completely serene. I look around me and there seems to be wave of calm that washes over me. I am one with my surroundings, with the environment. I am one with nature.
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Prequel to 'The Silent Haunt'
The noise of the frogs' croaks faded away and my ears prick up as I hear it. The loud, mourning sound, travelling at speed through the wind to meet my ears fills me with a strange pleasure that I don't completely understand. I know it is far away, but it seems as if the creature belonging to these mournful cries is standing right next to me.
I stand still, looking straight ahead of me, but not really seeing what's there. In this moment, my mind is more in touch with the sounds of the night. The lake lapping gently against the shoreline, the wind, whipping through the trees, the soft padding of feet, falling into step on the dirt strewn path.
I look back to see Rose, watching me anxiously from our little campsite. "Barney," comes her voice in the chilly breeze. "Barney, come back to..." I watch as she stops mid sentence, her eyes growing wide. I look around me to see a big, furry wolf padding out toward me from among the trees. Involuntarily, I let out a shiver before inhaling and exhaling deeply, resuming my calm composure.
I do not move even an inch as the wolf comes closer circling me, it's fur occasionally brushing ticklishly against the bare skin of my arms and legs. It comes closer still, brushing up against me and wrapping its neck around mine. Still, I don't move.
There is silence moment before the excruciating pain ensues, foreign and unexpected, it flows through my veins, taking over me. I dropped my knees as it engulfs me completely and hear Rose running toward me from behind, letting out an empathetic cry at my pain. I look back just in time to see her reach out to me, then she shies away. I look at her cautiously before glancing at the wolf by my side not able to understand what's happening. My eyes widen as I feel my most cherished memories of myself and raise seem to fade away. I look back at her in horror and she returns my gaze, her eyes full of fear.
With the wolf shadowing me, I step forward towards the lake. My eyes widen even more with the sight that greets me. I am just like the creature beside me. Somehow, I'm wolf. That fact should scare me it doesn't. I'm completely serene. I look around me and there seems to be wave of calm that washes over me. I am one with my surroundings, with the environment. I am one with nature.
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Prequel to 'The Silent Haunt'
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