Thursday, May 15, 2008

Happy Memories

This was an essay i did for my exam(except that i edited it.)
I received 26/30 for it, which made me really happy ^w^
Happy Memories

Memories, to me, are short videos that are etched onto the mind.
I, Colette, have plenty of bad memories, evoking only negative emotions, which I wish, with all my heart, to forget. The only means of escape for me is to relive the happy memories of my child hood.

The fresh, green grass was soft under our touch.
I sat, opposite Jim, my face a smile that shone like the sun.
Jim had the softest brown curls and the brightest, emerald green eyes, cheeks embedded with a hint of rose. Amongst his good looks, his smile was the best part of him. It was so sweet, like candy, so gentle, like silk stroking against skin.
He reached out and plucked a dandelion with his small, little fingers and gave it to me, blushing furiously.

It was so innocent and pure, untainted by the true horrors of the world. The truth was always so disgusting and filthy, so different from ignorance, which was bliss, just like soft, fluffy ice cream that would melt in your mouth.

I took the flower into my grubby hands, blushing as well. Jim grinned at me, flashing his pearly white teeth. He bounced up, full of energy, his gem eyes still on me. “Catch me if you can!” He called, dashing away like the wind. In my memory, his voice sounded like a heavenly melody that echoed repeatedly. It continued even as I carefully pocketed the dandelion. It was the first most precious thing I had- a perfect epitome of love that I received. I started chasing after Jim, moving my short legs as fast as possible, my jet-black hair swinging across my face as the wind blew. Jim quickened his pace, running nimbly. My feet clobbered the fresh blades of grass clumsily as I raced to catch up with Jim.

It was just like in the movies – boy chasing girl, except that it was in reverse. But that mattered not, for I was jubilant. I could feel the silly smile that was plastered on my face, the joy that was wrinkled into my skin.

His laughter was leading me to where he was, like a chain which I clung on to, to find him. I soon caught sight of Jim again.
I tore off madly, my arms outstretched. “JIM!” I hollered, beaming. He stopped his running, waiting for me with panted breath. “Come on, slow poke!” Jim teased, his brown curls blowing in the gentle breeze.

I wish we were as blessed as before, without a care in the world. I wished that I was kept locked up in the dark. Why did I have to know? Why did I have to be affected? I was merely caught up in their problem, but I was the one that faced the consequences! Why hadn’t they left me to myself? Why did she have to come and take me away? Why was money so important? I did not comprehend anything that happened. I did not want to comprehend. But I had to, no matter what. The ugly, undisguised truth that was so revolting was shoved into my face so quickly, everything happened dream-like.

I was squashed in Jim’s bear hug, but I did not mind the slightest. I cuddled in his arms, remembering the dandelion. He released his grip on me, his rosy cheeks glowing bright red. “Sorry,” he mumbled, fixing his gaze on the grass. Jim looked absolutely adorable! I leant towards him, brushing my lips across his soft skin. His hands flew to his cheek as he stared at me, taken aback by my gesture. I heard myself giggle as Jim stared at the ground, blazing red.

However, it was all gone. All innocence had vanished like a puff of smoke. Gone, and never coming back.
I struggled to grasp another happy memory, to bring me away from the terrible reality.

Jim was glowing radiantly, his party hat lopsided on his head, sitting quietly in the mass of brown curls. A humongous, frosted chocolate cake sat majestically in front of him, eyed by every child present. The candles’ flames flickered as we sang a birthday song for Jim. Everyone’s voice was merged as one. Jim grinned and blew out the candles, rousing a self-initiated applause from child and adult alike. Jim’s mother took a plastic blue knife and cut the cake, Jim beaming behind her, showing every tooth possible. I slipped past people whose faces were censored in my memory. They were not important. Jim was the star of the show, as always, to me.
“Happy birthday, Jim,” I congratulated, returning the smile. His beam, like the candle, snuffed.
“I- Thank you.” Jim murmured, a tear drop exuding from his flooding emerald eyes.
“Why are you crying? Today’s your birthday!” I told him, perplexed. Did I say something wrong? No, I could not have. “It’s because I’m really delighted. You know, you being here even though trouble is brewing at your house.”
For some reason, I could only here the words “It’s because I’m really delighted.” The rest of the words were mouthed, but I could not make it out. However, in the memory, I flinched. Jim evidently saw me flinching through his tears, because he reached his slim arm and hugged me.
“I’m s-”

“GET UP!” a rough voice commanded. I jerked forwards, only to collide with something hard. I fell back down, rubbing my sore spot as the blessed memories scattered. I was in a dirty, bare and small room that was coated in layers of dust and grime.
Reality struck me as I massaged my bruise, emotions fading away from me, becoming a stranger.
I opened the tiny door and crawled out of the melancholic room.

“Well, hurry up! The customers are waiting! Wha’ did you think yer were doin’ anyway? Didn’t I tell yeh ter wake at four, ter prepare feh early customers? I evidently did…” A burly man stood in front of me, wearing a dirty, studded pair of jeans and a grey flannel shirt. His lecture was usual. I had memorized it word for word. My eyes scanned the filth on the faded brown wall paper, piercing into the wooden floor, with bits of moss stuck in between the cracks. “I didn’t buy yeh so tha’ you could sleep! I bought yer teh WORK! Worthless piece o’ toe rag! Get yeh damned brains, don’t let me catch yeh using yeh brain ter think again! And get ter work, fool! GO!” the man bellowed, as I stalked away from him, back bent. I was thin and lanky, with a short crop. “Aye, sir.” I muttered, gaiting into another room. A customer glared at me, rapping his knuckles on the bar table. “I haven’t got all day, git. Get me a pint of booze.” I stared back at him with sunken, dead eyes, and turned around to get his order.

The horrid scene replayed in my mind again. The memory I tried my utmost to get away from, to forget.

My mother pushed me into a hooded man’s embrace. I caught sight of her face. A gleeful, dement look was scratched upon it. The hooded stranger handed her a thick wad of green paper. “Let’s go.” The stranger said, pulling me along.
“What? Where am I going with YOU? More to the point, who are you?” I asked, urgent. A bad feeling was mounting in my chest.
“Don’t talk. Ask no questions and I shall tell no lies.” The man rasped, hauling me. I turned to my mother, whose twisted smile was getting wider under the dim light, as her fingers skimmed through the wad of greens. “MOTHER! GET ME AWAY FROM THIS FREAK!” I yelled, wrestling with his grip, efforts futile.
The hooded, unfamiliar person halted.
“Freak?” he echoed. Then, a mirthless laugh came from underneath the black cloak and the grip tightened. “FREAK! You’re the freak here, girl. You are abandoned, unwanted by the very person who gave you life!” the laughter rung on and on, as the man unceremoniously lifted me onto his shoulder. He stooped away into the darkness, with me along.
Panic rose, as I struggled to no avail.
“MOTHER, MOTHER!” I screamed as she got further away. “MOTHER, SAVE ME! COME BACK! I PROMISE, I’LL BE A GOOD GIRL, SO DON’T LET HIM TAKE ME AWAY! MOTHER!” I cried, even as I lost sight of her. “MOTHER! I’LL BE A GOOD GIRL! HELP ME!”

I was sold, as a slave, to someone else. The buyer handed me over to a bartender, asking him to take care of me. The reason was evasive to me, but the slave’s thoughts matter not. It never did.
My mother, the one who suffered to give me life, threw me away so easily.
She and my dear father, now a nameless man without a face, had argued so much. Whenever I was home, hiding in the sanctuary of my room, I could hear their raised voices, their fists colliding intentionally on the table, the smashing of glass, the vulgarities so easily spat.

My thoughts may not be accurate, but one thing was clear.

I was brutally betrayed.
The truth was crystal- they were only people with the same blood, but we had utterly no connection. Not one. If I ever needed to repay the woman whom gave me life, I had already done so.
I had nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with her anymore.

The little faith I had within my heart extinguished. The happy memories, like so many others, became masked strangers and slowly scattered.

i feel that it isn't that good, though.
i can't put in this feeling into it, which i have been unable to do since i took my lit paper. i hate lit right now. x-x
oh well.
please enjoy your day!

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