A Case of Blame

Photo by Tingey Injury Law Firm on Unsplash

A vivid memory that I remember from my youth was the time I was blamed for taking my cousin’s makeup. There was no other person who could have put this fate upon me besides my older sister of course. Being the youngest of three meant that I had no control over any situation. Like a balloon with a 20 foot string, I was constantly swayed by whoever was guiding me.

I will never forget the outburst of rage that consumed my cousin when she got home from school that day. Her accusing finger making haste in the family room as she demanded where her favorite lipstick was. She initially got it right, with her suspicious eyes on my sister. But low and behold, being dragged by my string and used like a shield, the spotlight of blame landed on me. Fortunately this did not last for long as the guilt on my sister’s face matched that of a dog in a butcher house. She passed me to hand the stolen items back, a scowl on her face…a smile of justice on mine though.

Underneath the Surface

Photo by Cristian Palmer on Unsplash

The first step inside was not like movies at all. Instead of opening the big, grand doors to reveal an even bigger and grander staircase, my eyes were met with a pile of debris that did not look much like the new house that I was expecting. Hopes still remained high as I ventured further into foreign places that would soon become the norm. A look of faith maintained on my face even through the sight of peeling paint and broken down walls. But as the last corner was turned, my previous facade had finally come down and taken its true form of disappointment. 

“Daddy, is this really the house that we’re going to have to be living in?” I ask the question lingering with uncertainty and dismay. My dad chuckles while taking my hand.

“I know it doesn’t look like much now,” he starts, “but soon this will be your room. We can paint it your favorite shade of purple and you can have as many stuffed animals as you want. And over here will be the kitchen. Soon we’ll have a big party and feast with all of your uncles and aunties and cousins.” Looking reassuringly into my eyes, my dad soon pulls me into a hug.“Places take various different forms over time and although they might not look the way we want, the meaning of it is what really matters. Before you know it, you will be making many memories and calling this place home.”

Break The Wall

Photo by Jens Riesenberg on Unsplash

Every day he wakes up and every day he’s met with the same dystopia around him. Lies. Control. Rules. Numb. Hatred. Emptiness. The gray world before him is nothing like you’d imagine a society to be like: people put their heads down as they walk through the streets and a record of silence is stuck on replay because no one dares to exchange words. Today is different however, as instead of spending his morning staring up at the crackling ceiling, his shoes are already laced up with the door slamming behind him by the time the clock strikes at 4 AM. His destination is unknown but one thing’s for certain: he’s getting out of this wretched place. His footsteps are quiet and speedy as he expertly makes his way through the sleeping town, careful not to alarm the authorities that might foil his plan. With a few more steps, he soon finds himself face-to-face with the very concrete walls that once constrained him, only now they would be known as the walls that he climbed over to reach his freedom. He can see everything as he reaches the top, though he can’t be bothered to take a look behind because there’s nothing that he wants to save as memory. Taking a deep breath, he looks out front to see the new life ahead of him before finally closing his eyes and jumping down. Opening his eyes, he’s met with the crackling, gray ceiling once again. It looks like today is going to be the same as always.

Broken Melodies

Photo by NCT Dream

You owe me sleep. The countless, sleepless nights I spent talking to you on the phone is time that I can never earn back. But I don’t regret it. No, not at all. Not even one bit. Despite the amount of sleep that I was deprived of, I wish nothing more than to go back to that moment in time. 

These nights when I close my eyes, you are the most vivid thing that I see. A confusing occurrence for I know that you’re so far out of my reach, unlikely to ever catch my sight again. And even though I know it’s impossible to see you, I can’t help but feel like something is missing. Life feels like clutter, like being stuck in a noisy haze. 

I still stay up late and I still get no sleep. Only, it’s different these days, I don’t fall asleep to the sweet sound of your voice. Instead, as I lay in my thoughts and regrets, it’s only my broken melodies playing in my head.

White Love

Photo by Christiaan Huyen on Unsplash

The best time of year has finally arrived, the snow making the once green landscape a glistening white canvas waiting to be colored on. As we venture deeper into the forest, our footprints decorate the smooth snow with a firm crunch with every step. Although the temperature is a number low enough to count to within seconds, the warmth in our smiles keeps the color from draining from our faces. Snowflakes decorate the air like butterflies before disappearing like a whisper as soon as they hit our rosy cheeks. My hands can’t stop themselves as I conjure up a ball of snow to launch in an attempt to draw a reaction. What my hands also can’t stop however, is his immediate revenge as he tackles me into the snow creating a frenzy of ice and laughter. If we weren’t so reliant on the sun, I’d hope for it to stay out forever, to keep this winter wonderland here year long. But most of all, to live eternally in this white love.