Escape.
{ Thursday, July 14, 2011
2:45 AM }
She couldn’t recall when it all started, but when it did, it escalated at such a repulsive velocity that it threw her off her feet. As she sat pondering in her desolation, she recalled what he last said to her.
“What do you want from me? What more?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. Just...go.”
And he did. He slid away like a snake. It was almost as if he anticipated her to respond in such a manner, to raise her white flag in disgust.
She held out her hands, clenching them together. Her veins viciously lashed against her skin, protruding out, calling for attention, grasping for air. The still air filled her lungs and tainted them, contaminated them, corrupted them. Her petite frame held in some disappointed tears.
1,2,3.
He didn’t turn back. Around the corner of the room, she could still see his silhouette. Its presence lingered for less than a second, and disappeared as soon as she fixed her eyes upon it.
What was left to accompany her in the cold cell was silence. They said silence was one’s best friend. In her recollections, papa once told her that.
“Why papa? Why?” She asked with vigor.
Papa didn’t reply, but gave a queer little smile that stopped her from sprouting more questions. His hand rested on her cheek, and he pressed his lips onto her tender, rosy skin. In that moment, all she felt was assurance. There were words, but there weren’t. Nothing came out of his mouth but a laugh, but somehow she knew the answer.
“Someday you’ll know princess. Someday you will”.
The unspoken answer now resonated in her soul. It reverberated, reverberated so loud and clear that she could not possibly ignore its significance. Yes, at this very moment, she understood why silence was one’s best friend.
For silence wasn’t there when she had someone to speak to, somebody intimate to confide in. It wasn’t there when words could transmit her emotions and expressions. It disappears when one’s mouth opened. Yet it is always present when one is lost deep in thought. It is there when words can no longer decant your message. Its hand would gently knock against your knuckles when you feel despair, as if to let you know that you can always lean on its shoulder. This action of course, could be misunderstood. But being the girl she was, she read its mind. Silence- it was there to accompany her when nobody else would bother to. It was there to speak to her without words, just as papa did when he was there. It was there, just like papa who gave her answers without answering.
“Papa.”
Her lips moved on their own, she said those words unconsciously. And in that moment of epiphany, silence left. It simple crept away.
“Goodbye, my love.” She whispered as it departed.
Then she sprung into action. From under the bed she gingerly took out a suitcase, awaking it from its slumber. Dust fairies whirled around as the ancient case came to life. She watched the fairies twirl till they settled. Their spark-like appearance and flutters amused her. Then into the vintage case, went a classy fountain pen, a tattering leather-covered notebook, some yellowing clothes, notes, some sugary snacks and her glasses.
Without more care, she scribbled a message on a piece of paper torn out from his notepad and left it in solitude on the crumbling desk.
“I am gone. Do not find me.”
With that, she took with her all the essentials for survival, and left the house with only that and her memories.
As she left, she felt fragments of her remembrance of the past flapping their wings back to the detestable house she escaped from.
For the next few days, she travelled north. Where to? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she had to get away from the revolting apartment and mend her brain that resembled a sieve. She needed peace. And so, she left the city that bestowed upon her so much anxiety and fear.
How many years has it been since she last travelled?
She couldn’t recall. For she have spent her life in that abomination of a city for almost as long as she existed.
The only route of escape from the hectic life was papa.
Papa restored some of her life every time it seeped away from her.
That's right, papa's spells created wonders.
“Papa”, she heard her muse probe. “Go to where papa is.”
And so she did.
Papa’s grave was in the county. A place where the “civilized” wouldn’t go, because only the slow and undeveloped stayed there, because this was what the school taught. But papa was more than civilized. He taught her the serenity of nature, the beauty of words, the intricacies of body language and most of all, he taught her about serendipity, about its importance and its powers.
But when he died, she thought that he carried it along with him to heaven. She suddenly lost the ability to respect life. She was able to breath, but lost the ability to do so. She was able to see, but lost the ability to see. She was able to think, but lost the ability to think. She lost her faith, and gave in to the regimental education system. Disillusioned, she followed blindly. Oh, how silly she was!
Now, as she travelled along to the county, the bits and pieces of perspective came gushing back in her blood. A kaleidoscope of wondrous expressions welcomed her. The blades of the weeds brushed against her golden-brown flesh, and she felt the wind playing with her hair. The smell of hay filled her nostrils, and she coloured her pearlies with fruits the farmers offered to her.
“This is living.”
Along the way she saw creatures she identified slowly in her old memories, and sketched their appearance in her book. Whenever she spotted something strange and unfamiliar, she would hear papa beckoning to her.
“Princess. Check it out.”
She would.
And then will be in awe for hours, smiling to herself.
As she travelled, she felt a young child’s hand holding on to hers, and heard a childish laugh that soothed her mind. But when she turned to look, there was nobody there. But it can’t be- there was somebody there, but she knew not who. Afraid that this presence would depart, she dare not question its existence- just sunk herself in this tiny indulgence of happiness.
Minutes, hours, days and nights, she walked with much enthusiasms.
So much enthusiasms that it was bursting at the seams of her mind, overflowing from her subconscious. She could not comprehend all that she have experienced, but she didn’t mind. She experienced- that’s all that mattered to her. Fueled by the new found source of energy and strength, her thirst for serendipity grew, and her newly founded inquisitiveness mounted with every breath she took.
As dawn cracked, she saw papa’s tomb peeking.
Palpitation coursed through her body, and she ran towards his tomb.
For she saw him standing there, holding his arms out, calling out to her. Her feet carried her as fast as they could, and she thought she smelled her soles burning. But when she finally reached where papa lied, she slumped down right beside him and traced the edge of his cradle. Even though he was gone for years, and his crib was consumed by the wild weeds and flowers over the long years of solitude, she thought a familiar scent lingered on it. The smell of papa, the smell of knowledge, the smell of life, the smell of liberation.
As she laid on the lush green patch of warm grass, she looked up to the sky. It was a myriad of saffron, ruby and tangerine. In it, she saw angels dancing and giggling, and as they danced, they sent a breeze towards her. The breeze caressed her gently, settling her mind. Her sensory neurons picked up the caring wind, sending impulses and her hair stood. And as they stood, a plethora of emotions overwhelmed her. Joy, confusion, elation, rage- she felt them all. Warmth travelled in her system, scurrying around, as though trying to make sense of this new phenomenon. Her head pounded wildly as she took these sensations in stride.
Then,
She no longer held them in.
Crystals rolled down from her cataracts.
And as they rolled, the fog to her window cleared, and she saw the presence that was with her all along.
It was herself- her soul. It took the form of a child, of when she was a child. But most of all, it took the form of innocence, it took the form of love, it took the form of affluence of euphoric emotions.
She forgot her cares, and closed her heavy lids.
From afar, she saw the city crumbled, obliterated.
A plaintive melodic symphony played in the silence.
She slept soundly.
---
So this was a pretty random write.
I'm sorry, I'm not a good writer.
In any case, my life is in chaos, and I'm attempting to get it back in the swing of things.
So for now, do bare with this write- I'll update when all's well again.
I hope life's fine for you too.
Literature.
I am a tired human being.