Lil
The sun was going down on the horizon. I could hear my own footsteps while walking down the street. I came from our school. The very old and wrinkled structures were aligned on both sides of the streets. Some people were sitting calmly on the chairs outside their huge houses while those children were playing. After a few minutes of walking, I arrived at the front of our house. Our house was just simple, and we were just as simple too.My mother was a vendor, while my father was a peasant. They both had not completed their schooling. My mother had only finished her elementary days, and my father was in high school. Because their families were indigent, they were forced to stop schooling and work instead. But though we were poor, my parents were rich in love. They always provided my necessities, such as shelter, food, clothing, learning, and love.I sometimes dream of becoming rich. I was envious of my classmates whose parents were giving them everything they wanted. I was envious of other people who lived in huge houses and did nothing but sit on their chairs and play Mahjong with the other wealthy people.The door thudded, and I noticed my mother was wearing a plain, green shirt with a stain in the center; when I was younger, I mistook that stain for an eye, and I was afraid to look at it. My mother was wearing old leggings and sneakers too. I knew she was hard to get to buy her own things; she was always wearing her old clothes.My parents worked every day, though sometimes they could not eat their meals just to get to work early. My father was a farmer who owned a small piece of land for cultivation, and my mother was the one who sold the harvests from our farm.For me, my mother was the most beautiful woman in the world. Her brown eyes seemed to tell me how much she cared; her pointed nose, brown skin, and pink lips that never became dry. Though she was always working, she still had time for herself, for me, and for my father."Oh! Son, what happened to your forehead?" She asked.I touched my brow and felt a bit of pain. The thing seemed wet. As I looked at my finger, I saw a dark, red liquid with an inexplicable smell. I knew it was made by those boys who could do nothing in their lives but wait for their victims in the streets. But even though there were many bullies who always hurt me, I'd never told my mother and especially my father, because he would surely find a way to punish them."Nothing, I just bumped myself on the pole," I lied."Come in and we will cure that," my mother invited. "You don't feel pain?"Though I made too many mistakes, my mother never became mad. She was always telling me that "we cannot go back in the past and change what we have done wrong. Let us live in the present time and get our lessons from it, so that we can't do it again in the future.""Aw!" I exclaimed. "Please make it easy. It hurts." I complained, whimpering, and trying to avoid my mother's fingers touching the wound on my forehead."Sorry, but it's just a small wound, so stop overacting," my mother replied."Hey, what happened to that child?" My father got inside the house, hung his hat on the peg, and sat down on the wooden chair beside us.I knew he came from the farm because he looked exhausted and the moisture on his face and neck had diffused. My father was the most handsome man in the world, though sometimes he was unkind and overprotective. He had a high-pointed nose, short black hair, which took a long time to grow, and round, brown eyes."He said that he bumped himself into the pole," Mom replied."Birdbrained, and you also believe in your child? He might be fighting with those street boys, because a mark from the pole wasn't the same as that wound which looked like it was from a sharp object?" He guessed.My father was an intensely strict man! He didn't want me to fool around. However, I knew that even though he was a hard wall, acting as a column in our house, he still cared about me and my mother. But I could not be free from his cage because he was so inquisitive.My mother defended, "You're not an investigator, Jay. I know that our son would not fool around; he's already big enough to know what's right and wrong. Am I right, Lil?""Yeah, I'm not doing anything wrong; I came from school," I replied."Good," my father said, "but if we know you're doing something, we won't show you any sympathy; instead, we'll aggravate your wounds.""Can you stop threatening your child?" Mother asked. "He's already big, and soon he'll have a girlfriend and start his own family.""You will never do that thing as long as we don't allow you to. You need to finish your schooling first before you can have a girlfriend. You're just sixteen, and the responsibility of being a father isn't as easy as you think."I tried to convince them, "Don't worry, ma and pa, I will help you first before making my own family," although I knew they wouldn't believe me."You don't need to do that, son; just do the things that you want. As long as you're not hurting others, don't feel sorry for them," Mother added."Leona! Maybe that's why your son is getting stubborn, because you are letting him do anything he wants to," my father scowled."But what's wrong with that?" My mother stood up and exclaimed. "Why are you always mad even though there's no reason to be?""I'm just telling the truth. I'm hoping that you will realize it," he defended."Telling the truth? I'm hoping you can realize that whatever you're going to say to Lil, he's still our one and only son."Hearing and seeing my parents fight in front of me, I suddenly stood up and exclaimed, "Please stop this! If you will fight because of me, maybe it will be better if I leave this house, so that you won't fight anymore."A day full of troubles had elapsed, and maybe that day was the worst day of my life because I got a wound from those bad boys, and my parents also fought because of me, although I didn't do anything wrong.How could I stop other people's discrimination? Those who would rejoice when they saw others suffering from the pain they had caused. What was it in me that they were doing that? Perhaps it was because I was poor and they were wealthy; it might have been because I was nice and kind; or perhaps it was because I didn't fight back.I was sometimes discouraged from going to school because of those bullies, but I also thought that I could not be successful if I did not continue my studies. How could I help those people who were oppressed by wealthy and wicked ones if I could not be successful? I would rather hurt than feel nothing at all.My mother might be already in the kitchen. She woke up early every day to prepare our breakfast while my father was still lying in bed. I sprang out of
KailaFrom the window of my bedroom, I could see that dusk had quickly arrived. While the darkness began to show, the moon and stars started to shine. It was already night, but I could recognize everything inside my room, for it was awash in the silver moonlight which would only disappear if I closed the windows.I could see the solid dark shadows that indicates the carriage house and the stables. The moon, like a thin wafer of pale lemon, hung impaled upon the slender shaft of a solitary pine standing on the grassy hill, but now covered with snow. Everything below seemed luminous, glowing dreamlike in the cold moonlight.The hither and thither movements of the cold air chilled me, so I closed the windows and lowered the pink drapes. I turned on the lights, took my pink backpack and notes to the desk, and answered my assignments.Though I had a wealthy family, I would never reckon with the servants and tutors. I wasn't an ambitious girl; I just wanted to live a simple life like anyone
I never found a way to fill all the silence. In the weeks that followed the greatest tragedy of my life, I jumped from my bed every morning, donned my pink sneakers, a black leather coat with a hood and went out of my dark room. Every morning, I would do a step-by-step move on the winding stairs and look at the paintings hanging on the wall.Whatever I would do, I could not forget my parents. Everything seemed gone from me: my happiness, my courage, and my weaknesses had scattered. The kind of life I had was meaningless; it did not had any destination; it was just flying with the cold breeze.Sitting on the concrete stairs in the front of the mansion, wist deep in thought because if I'd think of my parents, I didn't feel so alone. Looking at the groves and copses of trees came whip-crack sounds as the slight breeze moved their icy branches.The sunsets had changed. They were not as beautiful as they looked before. I had memories of my parents being everywhere around the mansion. I did
Lil"Help! Help!" I shouted.I sprang out of my bed and realized that everything was just a bad dream. My room's door screamed decrepitude, and I saw my mother walking towards me in her old pajamas.The wooden bed was cracking when she sat down on it."Why were you shouting? Is there something wrong?" She queried."Nothing, I just had a bad dream and it seemed real," I replied."Dream? It's the first time that you've had a dream."Perhaps I shouted because I had never experienced having any dreams before. I always slept well every night, and I sometimes took a nap in the afternoon. Was there something wrong with why I had a bad dream?I remembered the old man who gave me a bluish cloud. He was the only weird thing that happened. He told me it was a power, but it seemed to have no effect. He might be fooling me too, and that didn't have any connection with my dream.He could be insane and was only trying to turn me into a monkey. Did I look so weak that many people were underestimating
In my brain I screamed, "Yohoo—I can live forever!"I slightly shifted my hands on my chest back and forth several times. It was incredible! I could not believe that I had that kind of power. I didn't need to be afraid anymore. Even if someone tried to cut me into pieces, I would only laugh at them.Many impossible things have happened to me since I met that old, weird man. He was undoubtedly powerful, for he made my dream come true. I became a superhuman! But something crossed my mind: about the condition he wanted to tell me.I didn't know if I had that condition in order to become a superhero. I admitted it was my mistake. I didn't listen to what he wanted to say. However, I didn't worry too much, because there was nothing that could be hidden forever. I was pretty sure I would discover that thing soon.Though I already had the power, it never entered my mind to stop schooling. I wanted to see my classmates who were studying their notes, writing something on their papers, answering
KailaI was holding my chin on the windowpane, looking at the sky filled with low-flying snow clouds, though there was a break through which the sun shone. Some trick of prismlike crystal, some sun-and-moisture phenomenon, gave the falling snowflakes color, and as they materialized in the sunlight, twinkling downward, they seemed to vanish.I might have had a very long dream about the old woman who offered me a pinkish cloud. I didn't know what to believe. Perhaps everything was only a dream, because when I woke up, I was lying on my bed. Perhaps everything was only a dream and I fell asleep when I was having a conversation with my personal maid.I was feeling bored of sitting on the chair by the window. Just a while ago, when I woke up, I decided to open them so that the darkness would disappear. I realized that everything around me was not doing anything wrong to me, and it would be better if my bedroom wasn't dark, because darkness seemed to swallow me.Picture-perfect memories wer
Many days passed by, but I hadn't gotten any information about those merciless gangsters who killed my parents. I had already sent some men to find them. The police, too, didn't have any update regarding this. I should create posters telling people that they could receive a big reward if they could tell me anything about my parents' death.It was already night. I was alone in my room.I lie alone on my bed, listening to music and thinking of my parents until it hurts. But what else could I do? Tormented and torn apart.If my parents were not dead, I wouldn't be lying on that bed anymore. Perhaps I was playing outside the mansion, traveling to other places, sightseeing, and learning about how immense the world was. But everything that happened was the opposite of what I wanted.The light inside my room suddenly disappeared. I could see nothing but darkness. I could feel the cool air from the window's crack. The hairs on my arms and legs stood up as the diaphanous curtains danced with th
LilIt was a sunny day. I occasionally visit our farm or the market to help my parents with their work. I wasn't a hard-working boy; I was only doing the things I could and wanted to do. Why should I do something I couldn't? Especially if there was no good reason for doing it?The life of a sixteen-year-old boy like me was so monotonous. From Monday to Friday, I walked back and forth between home and school. Sometimes, I frown and shrug while sitting on the bench, looking at the blue sky, wondering when I could ride my silver plane and go anywhere around the planet.Change was inevitable. Everything might change. My dreams, my appearance and identity, my learning, preferences, my beliefs, and many other things had changed. If in the past, I let someone bully me, then I would never let them do that again. I didn't believe in magic, but without doubt, it existed. Teacher Jayne was right: "You would only believe in something if you had experienced it."I took the road to the farm where m