“Lost”

We never left, for as long as I can remember we had always stayed in Huntington Beach, the place we called home. So my excitement was justified when we were told “We’re going to San Diego”. I couldn’t think of anything else, as my parents had always thought the world was dangerous and were always cautious when taking us anywhere. Even though it was only a day, I daydreamed that this vacation would be great. However this all came tumbling down, my parents who I had always thought to be prepared even in the worst situations were frantically running around not knowing what to do or where to go. This is when I finally realized we were lost. From going to different bus stops and nearly taking a cab, we didn’t know. For my parents, this was stressful, as not knowing what to do always meant something bad, helplessness… that’s how we felt. Through this turbulent experience, we eventually made it out. With a bit of arguing and brainstorming, we hit all the destinations we had previously planned with some minor unplanned experiences too. Even if this wasn’t what I imagined, I was still grateful that my parents whom I thought were responsible and prepared had flaws too. And that I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t perfect. And maybe, just maybe, they could soon realize that being lost is temporary and that something along the way is more valuable than staying on track. “Photo Courtesy Orange County Archive”

The Little Grown-Up

Every morning, water droplets slide down, and when you look through it, it is a door, making the world seem much bigger —like we’re small, little people towered over by the green lushness and giant rays of light. Arriving at the front gate was like getting ready to step into unknown lands, mentally and physically preparing oneself to–. “MAKE FRIENDS,” my mama said, as I nodded. I was pacing around, trying to find the number 210, going in circles in the area with doorknobs taller than me, with rooms that I could barely read from, saying 209-215. My neck started to hurt, then my eyes felt dry from keeping them open too long, and my hands were sweating. But I was ready, as I stepped in front of that door. “One step…just one-” I thought. And that I did, pushing forward with one foot out of the threshold, I put more power into this next step. “Crash”, one sound and I froze. Instead of a confident entrance, I teared up. I don’t know why but I did. Through my tears, all I saw were blazing red blocks flying and crashing. I could only hear the screams of the people around me. Then everything went gray. Time stopped… until the red formed a river. From the door, I saw everyone, a girl crying and a giant woman wiping the red off of her. Then there was the boy in the corner, the creator of the bloody river, the one with the burning blocks. All I knew was that you cannot make a girl cry, it’s wrong because my mama said so. At the top of my lungs, I yelled “STOP”. Just like that everyone stared at me, I felt nervous, but that couldn’t stop me from walking over to the girl and helping her up. Because now, through tears she also saw the red world.