Fiction Friday: Heartless

Anger filled my heart as I walked into my favorite cafe. She's sitting at my table. I walked up to her. "You killed him!" I said, slamming my hands down on the round table. I only said it loud enough for her to hear. I didn't want to cause a scene. She didn't know who I was, but I knew her from the pictures I've seen. She acted confused, but she definitely knew who I was talking about. 

"Why would I kill my own father?" she said. Her act of innocence made me want to slap her face, but two could play that game.

"I know you killed him." I said, calmly taking a seat. 

"He died of a heart attack." she said. I sat quietly as I thought about what I wanted to say to her. We sat there for a few minutes, before she spoke again. "Who are you? Why do you care?" she questioned. 

"I'm his daughter." I said, which seemed to set her off. 

"No you're not! I'm his only child," she said as quietly as an infuriated person could. She didn't want to cause a scene either. 

"No," I said calmly, "You’re the reason he's dead."

I was more of a daughter to him than she ever was. He had never wanted to talk about her. When I had gone to his house for the first time, I noticed that his house did not reflect his character. I knew he was a family man because of the way I met him. Yet, there were no pictures of his family, not even any of his wife. Why don’t you have any pictures of your family? I asked. He smiled at me, with a tinge of sadness in his eyes, saying I took them down. Angela, my daughter, hardly visits me anymore. I think it was because the pictures make her sad. He brought out a couple of pictures of his wife and daughter, but he quickly put them away, and the subject was never brought up again. 

"Please," she said, bringing me back to the present, "explain to me as to why I would kill my own father. Only a sick person would kill their father. I am not that kind of person."

I laughed at her. "You're right," I said, "you didn't kill your father." She sat back in her chair, folding her arms, and smiling smugly. "You killed my father." I continued. 

If she was boiling before, she was about to blow now. She stood up and raised her hand at me, ready to slap me. I quickly put out my hands in defense. The action caused a few people to look at us. Her face fell as she asked me, "where did you get that bracelet?" We slowly sat down, again. The onlookers quickly went back to their own business. I knew we were finally getting somewhere. However, I did not know where I wanted this to go. 

"He gave it to me for my birthday last year," I answered. 

"How do you know my father?" She asked. 

"I met him at the graveyard two years ago," I explained. I had gone to the cemetery once every week to visit my parents after they died in a car accident. This man was there at the same time I was, every Sunday. I had seen him there a few times before I ever made any move to acknowledge him. We slowly went from smiling to each other, to saying hello, to finally talking. As time went by, we got a good relationship going. 

His name's John Ng. Mr Ng went to the cemetery every week to visit his wife. She passed away because she had heart attack. Mr Ng and I found comfort in each other. He was like a father to me. He always told me that I was the daughter he had lost. I did not know what he meant by that, except that his daughter hardly visited him, but I knew that I was going to be the daughter he deserved. 

She was quiet again, after I explained my story to her. I was getting tired of her silence, so I said, "why do you care about my bracelet anyway?"

She stared at my bracelet as she whispered, "it was my mine." She quickly changed the subject after that, which was something Angela and her father had in common. They didn't like to talk about things that saddened them. "It doesn't matter anyway," she said, "you still haven't given me a clear explanation as to why you think I killed my father. If you truly knew him like you say you did, you'd know that he wasn't murdered. He had a heart attack."

I sat back thinking about what I was going to say to her. "I visited him every day," I said. 

"I was busy," she replied, "is that a crime?"

"You never tried to contact him in any way," I told her. 

She sighed, then. "I knew that he had heart problems, just like my mother."

"So," I said coldly, "you should have been there for him." 

She looked away, sighing again. "When my mother died, I blamed it on myself."

"So?" I said, again. If she wanted me to feel sorry for her, it wasn't going to happen. 

"I didn't want to feel that guilt again, so I decided to distance myself from my father," she whispered. 

I grabbed her cup of coffee and dumped it on her. Everyone in the cafe looked at us as a loud, piercing screech came from Angela. "What is wrong with you?" She screamed, standing up. 

"You pulled away from your father because you did not want to feel the guilt you felt when your mother died?" I said. It suddenly hit me that, despite my attempts to not make a scene, we ended up in that exact predicament anyways. I suppose you can’t just accuse someone of killing their father and expect everyone to go about their business. I headed for the door, feeling the burning stares of everyone in the room. 

"Wait!" she yelled at me. She ran after me, grabbing my wrist. 

"What do you want?" I said turning around. 

"Why do you think I killed my father?" She said. Everyone listened closely, wanting to know the exact same thing. 

She was blind. After all of this, she still didn't know why I accused her of killing Mr Ng. "Don't you see," I said, "You tried so hard not to feel the guilt you felt when your mother died, yet guilt is all you should be feeling. You abandoned your father when he needed you the most. You basically left him there to die alone. You may not have stabbed your father in his heart, but you might as well have." Everyone became uninterested at this point, realizing that Angela was not a real murderer. Angela, though, was shocked as the revelation hit her. I removed my hand from her grip and walked away.

Keep Her Close

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes, who has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve. You'll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She's the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she has found the book she wants. You see that weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a secondhand book shop? That's the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow and worn.

She's the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she's kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author's making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book. Buy her another cup of coffee. Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce's Ulysses she's just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It's easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry and in song. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she's going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does. She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world. Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things must come to end, but that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two. Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 am clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She'll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are. You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she's sick. Over Skype. You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn't burst and bled out all over your chest yet. 

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you're better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

Who You Are

Someone once said to me, "don't ever stop writing. You would be numbing your soul. It's who you are."

Sometimes as we go through life trying to figure out which path to take next, we forget the things that make us happy and make us who we are. Some fall back in to a rut, some give up when things don't come easy to them, some lose hope when things don't happen over night and some take pain as a set back instead of over coming obstacles and pushing forward. 

When I think about what was said to me, I realized writing and expressing my thoughts and feelings is who I am and for a while I stopped expressing how I really felt. I got back in to that routine of just nodding along with life, I weren't really feeling, like my mind was split in two again.

Sometimes even at our happiest we're still affected by things that hurt us, like..you know, anything. It's over the past year that I've come to realize being strong isn't being fearless or switching off your emotions, it's expressing them and overcoming our boundaries and turning a negative situation in to something positive. We're so set on impressing other people that we forget who we really are. We adapt to what other people believe or likes or dislikes.

"To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment"

Be true to who you are, and if you still haven't figured out who that is yet, look inside your heart, look to those around you that inspire you. Be someone who will aspire to be more like you one day. Be kind, be gracious. Look for signs from the universe and enjoy life. Be weird, be wonderful. Be yourself.  Life's too short to be somebody else, ya'll.

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue

Roses are red, violets are blue,

sugar is sweet, and perhaps so are you.

But the roses are wilted, the violets are dead,

the sugar bowl's empty, your wrists are stained red.

The sun isn't shining, the sky isn't clear;

there's no silver lining cause you're no longer here.

Rain keeps on pouring, there's no end in sight,

you're laying there frozen, so far from the light.

Your beauty's unreal, your smile the sun,

but times can’t be turned or your actions undone.

The words that you wrote, that only I read

"I love you so much; please don't cry when I'm dead".

A bond that we formed, a love that ran deep,

the pain that we shared, a friend I could keep.

I wanted to hold you, wrap the tears from your eyes;

been there the moment you had said goodbye.

I want to forget, but most times I don't,

I want to let go, but I know that I wont.

Tears on my face, memories burned in my head.

The roses are wilted, the violets are dead.

p.s: I don't remember where did I get this poem from. I love how they rhyme.

Fiction Friday: You're Not Mine

Black long wavy hair right down to her hips with slight curls at the tips. The white light bounce off her hair resulting in her black locks instantly shining and attracting. Her hazel eyes with a slight glint stare right into me. She's wearing her favorite red dress. That's what I see before me. My reflection. Every aspect of my appearance is carefully prepared to match Jay's liking.

My heart pounds not knowing how the night would end but I know it has to be today, otherwise I know I would never get a chance again. I readjust my dress and check every part of my body, checking them off in my mind. I sigh and look over to my watch. It is almost time; I have an hour left to panic before seeing him. Come on pull yourself together, I say to myself. Calmly I sit on my bed and look at the pairs of shoes I have in front of me not knowing which one to choose. I carefully analyse each pair of suitable shoes I own. Still I couldn't figure out which ones to wear with this red dress. I look at my black heels and then dart my vision to the red pumps. Why's life so difficult? I stare at the black heels and suddenly remember Jay had commented on them before. In fact he didn't just comment on them, he bought them for me for my birthday. 

"I don't know why but for some reason I just had to buy them for you. I know you'd make them look amazing!" He smiled at me whilst handing me the box.

"What do you mean I'd make THEM look amazing?" I questioned him not being able to stop myself from giggling. I took the black box and opened it up to see a pair of black heels. They shimmered in the glow of the light. There was a big smile on my face. He didn't know that I had looked at these shoes just the night before wishing I owned them, it was as though he had read my mind!

BZZZZZZZZZZZ. That sound snaps me away from the memories. Crap, it's my phone! I jumped off my bed and picked it up. "Hello. Okay, I’ll be there!" I hang up and run out of my apartment. I couldn't lie how happy I am. I hurriedly walk down towards the end of road just until I could the coffee lounge. It has been our secret place that no one else know about. I guess it has become special because it's where we first met, where we could be alone, away from the rest of the world. I slow down now as I could see the shop sign. I feel a sudden rush flow up my body at the thought of him finally hearing what I was about to say, the thought of him booming with happiness. This is the perfect time to tell him. 

I stand outside the store and look in to see if he's there. I press myself against the door to get a better view but no sign of him. Only the heat of my breath seems to mist up the glass window. I open the door and hear the jingle of the chimes above the door. I smile as it seems to suit the happy glow oozing out of me now. Just as I close the door behind me there's a handsome man before me grinning. He winks at me as I walk past. It makes me blush but I look away happily. I sat in our favorite spot peering at the view through the window knowing that any minute now he would walk in. 

I got nervous as I keep exchanging glances between the clock hanging on the beige wall and checking my phone for missed calls or messages. Still no contact from him but there is still time, I am just early. I reach out to the stack of magazines in front of me and pull one out from the pile to divert my attention elsewhere. I begin reading the relationship advice section to find all sorts of dilemmas. I'm so involved in a case given by a woman where she found her husband had cheated on her with her best friend, I'm shocked that such a situation's even possible. 

"That's good huh?" A familiar voice questions me. I look up to see a smirk on Jay's face. I totally forgotten about our meeting and feel so calm until I study his face in more detail. His lips lure me towards him every minute he speak. His eyes make mine flutter every moment he blink. There's nothing I could do but remain glued to this emotion I'm feeling instead of resisting temptation. He waves his hands at my face and clicks his fingers to get me back to reality. I guess he must have realized I was studying him too close as he's in confusion. Slightly embarrassed, I look away.

I laugh, trying to change the conversation, "Err.. I see you're wearing your good luck red shirt." I said pleasingly. He looks at his shirt and looks back at me confusingly. He walks to the counter and orders my drink. I couldn't stop wondering if there's a reason that he's been wearing that shirt today of all days. I smile unconsciously not realizing how stupid I look like. He must have realized I'm daydreaming again as he places our drinks on the table because he nudges my cheek to get my attention. But he never noticed how much I long for his affection. I move my head away and look up at him smiling. 

"Why are you so far away? Did you forget to eat vitamins?" He says and giggles. He gets up and sits next to me on the couch sliding his arm across my shoulders and resting his. I watch his face glow in amusement as he finish off his coffee ice as if he's a child happily moving to the beat of a nursery rhyme, he smiles pleasingly as though he had accomplished his lifetime goal.

"Nothing, I'm just happy to see you," I say. We hold a gaze for a while. Then he puts his drink on the table and is facing me. He pulls my hair back from my face and tucks it with the other strands and held my head between his hands carefully as though it was fragile, and he stares into my eyes.

"Jane..." He pause and grin. "Today is gonna be my lucky day!" He's almost shouting. I feel the excitement from him contagious, I begin to get excited myself for an unknown reason. Deep in my heart I'm confident this is going to be the end of my wait. He leans forward and whispers into my ear, "I hope you like her."

HER?! I looked at him disgusted, not meaning to. I pull back confused.

"Hey," a female voice hovers from behind. I couldn't recognize it, but among my confusions in the event he's already turning around and locked into a conversation with a brunette curled figure. I peer over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of her. She glances at me briefly making an awkward moment between the two of us. 

"Hello." I smile at her trying to break the ice. She waves back to me and smiles.

"Oh, sorry Jane, I totally forgot you're here! This is Louisa. Louisa, this is my best friend, Jane." 

"I've heard a lot about you." She replies, addressing me. Her eyes beam in amazement. Who is she, I wonder. I watch her holding Jay's arm as he plays with her her. If I didn't know any better I would say there's definitely something going on, they couldn't have been any more obvious.

"So don't get angry with me or anything, but do you remember when I told you about my ex?" Jay asks me and I nod. "Well, we started talking again and our families got to know that we had been in contact and well, you know how it is when the parents know." He winks. I'm still confused, he must have guessed my blank expression as a reply to his statement. "THAT'S her!" He exclaims. "Louisa's my ex. I wanted you both to meet, that's why I had kept it a secret all this long and not telling you about anything."

"Nice," I reply back. Then Louisa goes to the counter while me and Jay are sitting on the couch, but Jay sits away from me. It's almost as if this is a sign to show me how destiny's going to turn out, but during the moment I haven't really pick up on it. "Hmm, I still don't get why the secrecy if you're just talking to her, you goof?" 

"Well, isn't it obvious, you dork?” he pauses for a brief while, looks back at her and leans towards me and whispers, "we're getting back together. That's why I wanted you ladies to finally meet. I mean you're my best friend and well, she's my girlfriend. I want you both to get along with each other. Just give it a go please?" He begs.

I feel like a total stranger. I bite my lip trying ever so hard to not let my tears fall. I gulp the meaningless words down my throat and engulf the shattered pieces of my heart. Slowly I begin to edge a smile out through my face and nod. He gives me a high 5 and pinches my nose. As I watch him approaching Louisa, I run to a restroom.

Tears begin to fall down into a gush of an uncontrollable waterfall sliding off my face. I watch my reflection in the mirror not understanding why this is happening. I know I've lost the battle when he mentioned that she's his ex. She's the long lost love he would always talk to me about. I always thought that there's never a chance they would get back together again. Well I thought wrong. My mind is clustered with so many thoughts but this isn't the time or place, besides he'll be looking for me. I know that I have to go back out there and behave as everything's fine.

I check my face in the mirror and wipe away the tears that have dried on my face. I catch my breath and push the door. There he is standing with a smile on his face. He swings his arm around my shoulders and walks me up to Louisa. "He's a good man, I'm happy for you guys." I never imagined I would've been able to say that. Quite frankly I thought as soon as I walk up to her I would have set off crying, but instead those words came out straight from my heart. 

I think it's time to leave. I walk over to the counter to get some takeaways so I could get rid of the gut feeling I had around my stomach. While taking my order, the staff brings me into conversation. "I hope you don't mind me saying this but..it's his loss that he chose her over you. He's had you at his side for 10 years now and has been so blind to not realize everything he needs was always right there," the staff says nonchalantly.

I look up at him once realizing what he just said. How did he know? I was baffled. "Excuse m-"

"Who knows, maybe you'll make another guy lucky." He quickly interrupts me and winks. I feel myself blush but glad upon hearing those words. For some reason it gives me some assurance. I'm sure that in the upcoming years I'm going to be entirely happy with them being together, which is hard but it has to be done. I wouldn't want anything for him but happiness. If that's with her he would always have my blessing. I still love him nonetheless, I have to find a way to let go of those feelings. 

I look at this stranger and feel at ease. I look back at my best friend and his dream girl and then at this man, who plants a seed of hope within me. "Maybe," I reply and smile.