Hi everyone,
Hopefully you all enjoyed reading my last post "The Kite Runner book review" as much as I did when I had re-read it in case of spelling mistakes or bad grammar.
Being 16 is a riveting stage in your life, according to me. Personally it's that stage where you think about university/college, future career and family life (if you want). However, although I spend most of my day thinking about the future, there are aspirations that I do have in life. I have always since I was 10 and learnt to speak and write fluent English, having come to the UK at age 8. I have thought of writing as a passage to the beautiful and mysterious human mind. Writing is a way to vent out and express all of your feelings unto pen and paper. I was inspired by Hosseini's "The Kite Runner" & Gillian Flynn's "Gone Girl" (yes, I have finished reading the book) to post my mini story for you all to enjoy.
Hint: it is a short passage by a young girl (monologue)
Home
I was here. It had been exactly 10 years since I stepped my two feet in this room. Now it looks different. Of course. Life moves on. Whether you want change and welcome it with open arms or not you cannot prevent it from happening. Unfortunately. She's a tall, majestic and yet, gentle figure. Standing at the end of the hall. She takes a step. And another and another. Till she is in front of me. I see that her hazel, button-like eyes are filling up with tears.
Suddenly, I am pulled towards her. Gently but quickly. But of course. I am her 27 year old daughter. When I left I was still a mere child. Immature and still trying to find my way in the world. And yet when I left I knew my mother would be in hysterics. But I still hugged so tightly, afraid to let go, in case her eyes grow with rage and anger at how I had broken her heart and stolen her soul.
After a few moments, she lets go ever so slowly and starts to study my face. She knows it's me but I think that she cannot believe that I am finally here. She needs proof and seeing is believing. Unless like my mother you are wired at all times and have a history of mild schizophrenia. She sees things that are not there. They call it hallucinations. I call it imaginary friends. At least...I used to.
Now that I have also studied my Mam's face, I noticed she has not aged gracefully. In fact, she is the opposite of chubby. She has grown thin and seems so frail. Like all children, I'd rather say she seems gentle. Her luscious blonde curls have turned to flimsy, thin, sandy blonde hair. I can tell that she's been through the worst kind of hell without even entering there. Soon I know why she is still teary. Her wedding band is gone. Her smile vanished. It hurt me to hear the words that came out of her mouth following the gasping sobs. It was enough to make me curl up and die.
"Kate....I- I don't know how to..."
"Mam, what, what is it?"
"It's your father. He's...he's gone."
"What?!"
"Heart attack back in 07' while at the...er..."
"...factory?"
"Yes. High blood pressure."
Nononononono
"I'm sorry"
Nononononono
He's gone. He didn't survive the attack. My mother is pleading with me. Begging me to not lash out.
She thinks I'm like her.
I am worse. Much worse. I go from happy and relieved to angry and vengeful. And when I'm vengeful I'm the last person on Earth you'd wanna come across. Trust me.
"Life's tough kid." Famous last words by my dear ole Pa. It doesn't matter. Not that much. I guess it could be worse. That's maybe the only rational answer I have for you right now. I cannot feel remorse but I can feel guilt and resent.
I am not a sociopath. I am an ill, demented, young and cunning woman. I major in psychology and sociology. Just because I ran away from home doesn't mean I gave up on my GPA of 6.9 and bright future that my mother had always predicted for me.
I know - it's rather odd having me confess that I am not at all well in the head, however you wanted the truth...right? And that, is exactly what I gave you. Before you jump to conclusions, keep in mind that I can and will come after you. I will use every resource that I can get my small, bony fingers on and I will undo you and unravel your dirtiest secrets and lies and use them against you. I will plan so articulately that even you shall be gobsmacked to find yourself in a 4x4 cell in Guantanamo Bay all alone in your used orange jumpsuit.
So go on, I dare you.
And that is it. And yes I have made this all up without previous planning. And yes if you want to advertise this, please do give me mention me and do not use my work as your own.
All in all, I thought it'd be best if I got this week's blog wrapped up with a short story. However this is just a small passage. I may or may not be thinking off adding on to this work but do leave me any comments good or bad and I will take them into consideration.
Till the next time,
~ The Girl Who Loves The Little Things ~