Monday, 5 August 2013

96. Heroes

Hey everyone, so I just wanted to share a composition I wrote in class today.
I thought it was among one of the better pieces I written and who knows? I might actually turn this into a movie someday :-)


  My mother died at the age of fifteen. Being the young child I was, I never understood why God had to take her away from me. The word "Cancer" to me then was so foreign. I remember hearing the word over and over again from the speeches made by my relatives at my mother's funeral. 

  "Blood Caner", to be exact. 

  A few days after my mother's death, I found myself clinging on to my Brown leather bag, while sitting inside my uncle's car. I looked around the quiet road and saw nothing familiar. It felt as though I was in some kind of deserted town or something of that sort. I was somewhere so far from home. Subsequently, the car jerked to a stop, and so did my thoughts. 

  "Mr Brown?" a gentle voice asked. 

  "Yes, I am. Thank you once again for taking her in Katherine. Her name is Mel." he replied. 

  Eager to know where I was, I turned. Right there in front of me I saw the sign "Smile Orphanage". Upon reaction, I sung my hand around in hope of grabbing the car door, but it was too late. With tears forming, I looked up at Miss Katherine. She had a beautiful smile on her face, but I was heartbroken.

  Two months has passed by and my days in the orphanage were not exactly filled with smiles like it's name suggested. In fact, it was more of a living hell. As I was mentally affected by the death of my mother, no one dared to talk to me. By the end of summer, "Crazy Girl" was the title I created for myself. I felt so alone, insignificant and depressed. However, despite the bitterness, nap time was something I looked forward to. During these nap times, I would sneak to the female toilet where my only friend could be found. Her name was Jane. 

  Jame was the cleaning lady of the orphanage. Just like me, she was outcast-ed by the students for she was "too old" and "not cool enough". Everyday at 4pm, we would sit behind the toilet leading to the backdoor as she told me stories and updated me on the news. She would spend hours talking to me about the different views of the World and how the World is a beautiful yet dangerous place. She taught me things no one ever did. She taught me the importance of working hard. I often found comfort in her wise words and at times, those words reminded me of my late mother. 

  Miss Katherine soon found out about our little hiding place. But instead of the harsh reprimanding session I was expecting to receive, she approved of our secret activity. To my surprise, she too decide to join in to add to our endless conversations whenever she had the time. Miss Katherine was a very understanding lady. She was patient and caring, love and just. Since she was the Principal of the orphanage, she was a busy women too. Nevertheless, I always ended up in her office for my behavioral issues. In addition to my sudden out burst of emotions, my self mutilation habits often brought anxiety and tears to Miss Katherine. However, despite the constant disappointment I gave to Miss Katherine, she never failed to praise me for my writting and imaginative skills. 

  The encouraging words of "You should become a writer" somehow gave me strength and a purpose to live on. 

  Some came December and as we all know, it meant that Christmas was around the corner. As such, everyone in the orphange was getting ready for the season. I knew I would be the girl with the least presents as most of my teachers and friends taught that I was weird and freaky. However, something unexpected happened that very Christmas. Something that changed my life. At the usual 4pm meeting that Christmas, I received my first gift of the year. It was a notebook from Jane and Miss Katherine. In it, it had many words of encouragement, little prayers they said for me while I was recovering from my depression and about 20 blank pages. At that moment, I was eighty percent recovered and my doctor said that I could be off medication by March the following year. 

  As I held the gift in my hand, it felt like I was holding something more worthy than Gold. It was a gift filled with love. It was a gift that inspired me. It was a notebook whose cover wrote 'To infinity and beyond". It was a gift from the two heroes of my life. Jane and Miss Katherine. 

I hope you liked it. Do tell me what you felt about it and if it was a good story or not. 
Also as always, do feel free to ask any advice or post any questions to my - - 
Till the next post, take care :-) 


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