name: Ariel T♥
gender: Female
I'm:
Introspectively retrospect
& flawlessly flawed.
But I'm about as shallow as you are.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
This post is titled Chain Reaction. It's an essay which was meant to be for my Commonwealth assignment but I used it for my Creative Arts Programme instead :)
Chain Reaction
Life is made up of chain reactions.
"Mummy, can I sit on the railings like you? It looks fun!"
"I'm going off. I'm going to a less painful world."
"Less painful world? You mean a world where it's always fun? Mummy, bring me along too!"
"No. I'm going off now. Take care of yourself. Good-bye."
"Mummy don't go! I want to go too!"
The little girl took the lift, to the bottom of the building. She was quite sad that her mother left without her.
Mummy, why are you sleeping on the road? There is blood all around you! Wake up, Mummy! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up… You still have to bring me to the fun world you were talking about!
But she wouldn't wake up. Her mother was dead, lying in a huge pool of blood on the rough gravel ground. Motionless - not moving. Not breathing. Lying there like a still-life art piece.
…
A few hours ago, when her mother was still alive, they were both at a hotel. She could remember her mother being very angry and they stormed into a hotel room without permission. Her mother simply looked stunned after seeing her husband.
“Daddy, how come you are lying on this bed naked?”
“Hello Auntie! Who are you? Why are you lying with my daddy?”
Her mother said nothing and pulled her out of the room. She asked her mother why her father was on the bed with "the auntie", but her mother would not answer. After asking for countless of times without getting as much as a grunt, the little girl simply gave up. Asking questions without an answer was not on her "favourite things to do" list.
Drop.
Drop. Drop.
Drop. Drop. Drop…
The tears from her mother's eyes began to flow like a tap that was turned on. The little girl felt the teardrops landing on her light pink dress, staining her dress with dark pink patches. She looked up at her mother’s face – it was crumpled and worn out with wrinkles all over, and tried to figure out why her mother was crying.
"Mummy, don't cry. Why are you crying? I’ll bite the person who bullied you. What happened?"
Her mother offered no reply. They continued walking as the little girl offered a piece of tissue paper to her mother. Her mother did not take it and they walked into a tall building. They took the lift that took them to the rooftop.
The rooftop was empty. Her mother disengaged herself from the little girl and sat on the railing on the rooftop.
…
Throughout the little girl's growing up years, she had to bear the pain of surviving without a mother. At first she could not fathom why her mother never woke up. It was not until someone told her that her mother committed suicide before she knew that her mother was dead. She could never understand the pain her mother felt and could not forgive her mother for killing herself. Her father did not want her either and did not bother to take care of her. After settling his ex-wife’s funeral, he simply left. The girl was left in an orphanage. Her whole life had been spent hating her mother and father.
The girl was now 30 years old. She was married and had a daughter who was only 5 years old. She thought she was happily married - until she found her husband with another woman on the same bed, lying there naked.
…
As the then-little girl, now-woman walked to the same building as she had done so 25 years ago with her mother, she began to cry.
Drop.
Drop. Drop.
Drop. Drop. Drop…
"Mummy, don’t cry. Why are you crying? I'll bite the person who bullied you. What happened?"
The woman, who was her "mummy" offered no reply. They took the lift that took them to the rooftop.
The rooftop was empty. The woman disengaged herself from her little girl and sat on the railing on the rooftop.
Now I finally understand why my mother committed suicide. The harsh reality of life and the pain makes it too difficult to continue living. As the saying goes, "like mother, like daughter", that is how my life was meant to be. Just like my mother.
"Mummy, can I sit on the railings too? It looks fun!"
"I'm going off. I’m going to a place where I can sleep forever."
"A place where you can sleep forever? You mean a world where it’s always fun? Mummy, I want to go too!"
"No. I'm going off now. Take care of yourself. Good-bye."
"Mummy don't go! Bring me along!"
The little girl took the lift, to the bottom of the building. She was quite sad that her mother left without her.
Mummy, why are you sleeping on the road? There is blood all around you! Wake up, Mummy! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up… You still have to bring me to the fun world you were talking about!
But she wouldn’t wake up. Her mother was dead, lying in a huge pool of blood on the rough gravel ground. Motionless - not moving. Not breathing. Lying there like a still-life art piece.
…
Life is made up of chain reactions. Everything in life will come to a full circle, a complete revolution; just like the series of events in a chain reaction - one event leads to another, then another and back to the beginning where it all began.
Chain reactions are never ending.
Chain Reaction
Life is made up of chain reactions.
"Mummy, can I sit on the railings like you? It looks fun!"
"I'm going off. I'm going to a less painful world."
"Less painful world? You mean a world where it's always fun? Mummy, bring me along too!"
"No. I'm going off now. Take care of yourself. Good-bye."
"Mummy don't go! I want to go too!"
The little girl took the lift, to the bottom of the building. She was quite sad that her mother left without her.
Mummy, why are you sleeping on the road? There is blood all around you! Wake up, Mummy! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up… You still have to bring me to the fun world you were talking about!
But she wouldn't wake up. Her mother was dead, lying in a huge pool of blood on the rough gravel ground. Motionless - not moving. Not breathing. Lying there like a still-life art piece.
…
A few hours ago, when her mother was still alive, they were both at a hotel. She could remember her mother being very angry and they stormed into a hotel room without permission. Her mother simply looked stunned after seeing her husband.
“Daddy, how come you are lying on this bed naked?”
“Hello Auntie! Who are you? Why are you lying with my daddy?”
Her mother said nothing and pulled her out of the room. She asked her mother why her father was on the bed with "the auntie", but her mother would not answer. After asking for countless of times without getting as much as a grunt, the little girl simply gave up. Asking questions without an answer was not on her "favourite things to do" list.
Drop.
Drop. Drop.
Drop. Drop. Drop…
The tears from her mother's eyes began to flow like a tap that was turned on. The little girl felt the teardrops landing on her light pink dress, staining her dress with dark pink patches. She looked up at her mother’s face – it was crumpled and worn out with wrinkles all over, and tried to figure out why her mother was crying.
"Mummy, don't cry. Why are you crying? I’ll bite the person who bullied you. What happened?"
Her mother offered no reply. They continued walking as the little girl offered a piece of tissue paper to her mother. Her mother did not take it and they walked into a tall building. They took the lift that took them to the rooftop.
The rooftop was empty. Her mother disengaged herself from the little girl and sat on the railing on the rooftop.
…
Throughout the little girl's growing up years, she had to bear the pain of surviving without a mother. At first she could not fathom why her mother never woke up. It was not until someone told her that her mother committed suicide before she knew that her mother was dead. She could never understand the pain her mother felt and could not forgive her mother for killing herself. Her father did not want her either and did not bother to take care of her. After settling his ex-wife’s funeral, he simply left. The girl was left in an orphanage. Her whole life had been spent hating her mother and father.
The girl was now 30 years old. She was married and had a daughter who was only 5 years old. She thought she was happily married - until she found her husband with another woman on the same bed, lying there naked.
…
As the then-little girl, now-woman walked to the same building as she had done so 25 years ago with her mother, she began to cry.
Drop.
Drop. Drop.
Drop. Drop. Drop…
"Mummy, don’t cry. Why are you crying? I'll bite the person who bullied you. What happened?"
The woman, who was her "mummy" offered no reply. They took the lift that took them to the rooftop.
The rooftop was empty. The woman disengaged herself from her little girl and sat on the railing on the rooftop.
Now I finally understand why my mother committed suicide. The harsh reality of life and the pain makes it too difficult to continue living. As the saying goes, "like mother, like daughter", that is how my life was meant to be. Just like my mother.
"Mummy, can I sit on the railings too? It looks fun!"
"I'm going off. I’m going to a place where I can sleep forever."
"A place where you can sleep forever? You mean a world where it’s always fun? Mummy, I want to go too!"
"No. I'm going off now. Take care of yourself. Good-bye."
"Mummy don't go! Bring me along!"
The little girl took the lift, to the bottom of the building. She was quite sad that her mother left without her.
Mummy, why are you sleeping on the road? There is blood all around you! Wake up, Mummy! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up… You still have to bring me to the fun world you were talking about!
But she wouldn’t wake up. Her mother was dead, lying in a huge pool of blood on the rough gravel ground. Motionless - not moving. Not breathing. Lying there like a still-life art piece.
…
Life is made up of chain reactions. Everything in life will come to a full circle, a complete revolution; just like the series of events in a chain reaction - one event leads to another, then another and back to the beginning where it all began.
Chain reactions are never ending.