Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Sunday, 1 February 2015

That silver lining

“Behind every dark cloud, there is a silver lining…”
           Lying down on the hospital’s white bed, De’Alizea ruminated about the ominous overcast that seemed more threatening every minute. She was scarred to the point of no return by hardships that had blighted her innocent childhood since that fateful day. The world around her had turned indescribably darker since she was diagnosed with cancer and she was constantly battling this inescapable rage for two years. Sitting on a plastic chair beside her was her mother, who must have wept herself to sleep.
Her still-awake sister offered her a weak smile, “How was your nap, Liz?”
“I’m fine, Chelsea.”
That was an obvious lie. She knew Dr. Martin would announce the results of her surgery soon. She prayed hard that there was a miracle solution to all this.
The door slid open, indicating the doctor’s arrival. His face was neutral as he recounted her progress, but became solemn when he reported the results.
“I’m really sorry… we’ve done all we could. De’Alizea may only have another few hours at most.”
Her depressed mood switched to full-blown shock. Another few hours... at most? Her mind was in a frenzy, trying to accept her imminent demise.
Chelsea could sense her panic and moved in closer to her, squeezing her arm comfortingly. Only when the aftershock had receded did De’Alizea realise how much time had gone wasted while she was in denial.
Her intense fear propelled her to seek comfort online, where she could remain anonymous. She posted her worry onto the outside world, hoping to spread love to others before the end engulfed her.
A message popped up, from Heaven’s Child:
“If you feel the need to share something with someone, don’t hold it back.”
Those kind words aroused in me a poignant response, so I told her my story. As my consciousness faded, I marvelled at how the power of empathy can surrealistically bond two strangers. If that message were from heaven, delivered through a human soul, I feel blessed by that silver lining in my last minutes among the dark clouds.

Sunday, 9 November 2014

It only takes a spark...

          It only takes a spark to transform one’s fate. It is that spark which ignited a possibility that one had never thought possible.
Zenith attended a summer teambuilding camp by the sea that he went to every year since he turned 11. It was supposed to be a bonding experience with his peers, with the age range from 11 to 17. This was his last year, and he hoped it would be the most memorable one.
He took in the surroundings of the camp with practiced observation. His attention gravitated towards a few girls who were under the shade nearby.
          “A good-for-nothing kid like you here? A disgrace!” spat one lean girl, whose name was Emma.
          The short stout girl beside her snickered, then carelessly kicked the side of the crouching girl.
It was evident by the aggressive stance of the two girls standing that they were picking on an innocent girl who could do no harm to them. Though it was a small wince, Zenith’s keen eyes saw it. His inner sense of justice brought him to her rescue.
          “Hey, leave her alone!”
          As he shouted, he strode quickly towards her. As Zenith expected, those two bullies naturally fled as they saw him.
          Her face was half hidden behind a cascade of dark hair when she turned away upon his arrival. Zenith crouched down before her and touched her knee lightly, to which she cringed away. With no other inspiration elsewhere, he seated himself next to her, yet leaving her ample amount of personal space.
          For the first time, he was given the chance to talk, to be a gentleman, like those social aristocrats he had always admired. Opportunities often offer themselves at the most unexpected of times. Like any other time, his throat would dry up and he was unable to utter a single sound. Well, he could, but it would just sound like a dehydrated frog croaking.
          “What’s your name?” he asked finally.
          He reminisced about his first day here, when every single person within a radius of 5 feet evaded him, including the teachers. Zenith was ignored, ostracised, uninvited— his presence was as insignificant as a tiny background detail. Zenith was truly a loner back then. Some still stayed clear from him, like Emma and her coconspirator. For what reasons, he never knew. However, his void was incomparable to her experiences, as he would soon learn.
          The silence stretched on. He would have concluded that she was a mute but for an almost inaudible whisper:
          “Iris.”
          He turned to face her and was met by a pair of soft eyes, but her gaze was hard. The unmatching contrast served as a shock to him. He could not imagine what pain had been forged on the anvil of pain and suffering for such sorrow to be emanated. He was tongue-tied, but before he could speak, his sharp eyes noticed something glinting in her hand; broken glass. Then he saw them—deep physical scars on her bare arm which he suspected were previously self-inflicted. He wouldn’t have seen them except that he was tremendously nervous speaking one-to-one with a stranger, so his eyes were darting everywhere. Suddenly, a pang of fear gripped him as he connected the dots— Iris was about to cut herself.
          Scared out of his wits, he reached out providently, in hopes of removing the looming threat against all odds without startling the sensitive girl. For some reason, she let him. Her still form watched him like a hawk.        
          Zenith made sure it was way out of her reach before heaving an immense sigh of relief. He stared deeply and earnestly at her.
          “Don’t lose yourself, Iris.”
          She seemed to have caught on to his intentions. He had broken the surface and instinctively identified what was amiss. He would have been none the wiser, if not for his gut feeling earlier. There had been an invisible pull — could that have been divine intervention? — that attracted his attention towards the enigmatic girl. He felt as though he had achieved something fulfilling.

          It only took a spark of empathy and kindness to bond two broken souls.

Tuesday, 29 July 2014

It’s a Mystery

          Indigo stood silently, looking at the door. With a slow creaking sound, it opened. Taking a deep breath, Indigo walked inside, his stomach churning at the thought of the unknown.

          It was misty, dimly lighted and the air was cool. It was surreal; there seemed to be a lifting sensation, as light as feather. Indigo listened to the soothing rhythm of a metronome echoing softly around him, reminiscent of monks chanting in the temple. He closed his eyes, and in a matter of seconds, strong gusts of wind which whipped at his clothes were overwhelming. A piece of paper smacked onto his face and he squinted at the familiar handwriting…

“Have faith in God,
May we reunite.”

          Gasping in shock, Indigo realized his sister was here somewhere and clearly in trouble! Darting left and right, he stumbled on a hidden hinge and landed face-down on the marble floor. Walls began to close in around him and falling debris covered the ground.

          Panicking, he forced his way through the knee-deep cobbles, sliding his hands around the surrounding barrier in search of opening but to no avail. Sighing in defeat, he lowered his head to pray. Moments later, he checked his watch— 5:37p.m. Cocking his head, he looked around to confirm the time and leapt back in alarm at the ghastly sight behind.

          Amidst the cobbled surface, a decaying hand stood upright, as if imitating the Statue of Liberty. Indigo tried to avoid any other distractions and gazed up in the face of God, but what he saw completely threw him off. Up above, a woman resembling Cleopatra stared, openmouthed. Seizing this golden opportunity, he waved his arms wildly as a signal for help and yelled, pleading with her to save him.

          A ray of viridity shone down, and Indigo embraced its warmth, enclosed in safety, glad that he would see the outside world again. He wanted to see his mom and sister so badly. A notion struck him. His sister.

          Whether he was hallucinating or perfectly conscious Indigo could not tell. In the distance, he regarded a young boy enduring an unbearable yet thriving pain. He put that aside and focused on the radiance of the other side, with the vast endless void separating the figure of a sleeping girl and him. Inching closer, he could just make out her face…

Is that you, Princess?

[394-word-composition]
-Originally written a year ago-

Monday, 26 May 2014

感谢

让我怎样感谢你;
当我走向你的时候,
你伸出你那温暖的手
指引我人生方向。

让我怎样感谢你;
当我独自一个人的时候,
你便走到我身边
陪我聊聊天。

让我怎样感谢你;
当我遇难的时候,
你依然没有变心,
反而和我一同渡过了这道难关。

让我怎样感谢你;
当你对我失望的时候,
你不但没有生气
还给了我许多鼓励!

{2014.05.22}

Remark(s): It's a beautiful poem and I personally like the structure as well. The best poem I've written so far <3

Friday, 28 February 2014

Wind Beneath My Wings

Disclaimer: The above video is not owned by me. It is included so that you can hear how the song relates to this story.