Writer's Blog

Inspiration comes when it feels like it

Archive for the tag “love”

Day 7:The picture

Day 7: Write a story with the words: tree, box, grandfather and toothpaste.

grandfather-granddaughter-walking-down-lane-sml

“And therefore I will love. Blind, boundless and never-ending. ”

 

He left me something. I don’t really understand why, I never knew him all too well. I don’t know why I consider it important. Why should I care about feelings never had, never transmitted, never known. It can’t matter now, so why should I care? I haven’t cared for 27 years of life. Then why do I care now? But I do.

I didn’t cry. I’m not a person who cries a lot. I don’t see the point. Why cry over something that is lost? Why cry over something that will never return? We walked inside wearing all black. Me and my mother. My little sister had never known him, she was too young. My father had never wanted to. There’s a lot of history between them. I don’t know why I came. Maybe to keep my mother company. She cried. I don’t know if she was sad. She never knew him well, none of us did, but as the music started she teared up. There were a few people I had never met, a few people whom I had heard stories about and a few people that I had met me when I was younger. I wonder if he knew them well. They told me that he had been distant and inapproachable. During the service I sat in the back, I held my mother’s hand. Through a sea of black suits, black veils and white tissue paper I could see the right shoulder of the priest. Just beyond the preacher’s stand I saw a glimpse of grey hair and the bright blue velvet upholstery inside the casket. He hated blue, I learnt that later.

I found it when we cleaned out the house. There was a musty scent throughout the house. Somehow everything there was mismatched. The sofa didn’t fit the table. The rocking chair was wine red, but the cushions were bright blue. The pattern on the table lamp suited horribly to the table. The paintings in the living room varied from expressionistic art to portraits of naked women dating to the baroque age. At first it looked like a horrible mess. I cleaned all of it. The dust wasn’t the worst part, but I found a rotten sandwich under one of the chairs. The style was awful; no one could have come up with it intentionally. The wheel of a bike was hung against a wall. I am still not quite sure if he intended it as a piece of art, or that he had forgotten to fix his bike and left it hanging to remind himself. Somehow every room was ugly, yet it felt like a home. It felt warm. I can’t figure out how my mind has formed a homey image of random collections of every sized garbage, yet I couldn’t shake the pattern on the table lamp and how beautifully red it was. I kept it. Everything felt warm, but I knew it to be lonely. There were no pictures. There was no need. He was never in pictures. The house felt warm, but the dust was a clear signal. He had died alone.

It took a full day to clean out the house. I had nearly skipped the last door, as it was hardly distinguishable from the wall. I found the key in the kitchen drawer and at first I wished I hadn’t. The attic was covered in spider’s webs. I found the remaining pieces of the bike as an answer to my question. I found a mountain of boxes with mostly nothing in them. I found a lot of things with little or no meaning to me, but I also found what I had never thought about. I found out who he was, as a person, as a husband, as a grandfather. Everything of his I found in a small box under the staircase. The box itself was the only wooden box in the attic. Small, yet precious. It had a carving on it of a bird with spread wings. The wood of the box had a reddish glow with a dark striped pattern. The key was already in its lock and I felt that I had found a treasure. I was right. Mostly I found out that he was a writer. I found stacks of letters, notes and scratch papers with vaguely formulated sentences. I found everything. Feelings, thoughts, adventures. My grandfather wasn’t a very organised man. He didn’t have one diary, but he just had his whole being stacked in this messy pile of papers. I found his deepest thoughts on a shopping list.

Shopping

  • Milk
  • Bread
  • Painting
  • Instant noodles
  • Happiness
  • My family back
  • Toothpaste

He wrote about the daily things, he wrote stories, poems and songs.

“James asked me today if I still cared. I told him to mind his own damn business. No way the town baker gets to know my thoughts. Of course I care. But I’m tired. I know that people think I’m distant. The truth is that I don’t know how to feel. I know that one time that I felt, and I felt everything. I felt the wind through my hair, I felt the rain on my skin. I felt every step I took, I felt air enter my lungs and leave again. I got tired of feeling, so I stopped. I felt everything when she left. The love of my life. Alongside my kids and their kids. Of course I care. I should really get to fixing my bike today. I might be old and alone, but I’m sure as hell not gonna be old, alone and fat. (2005)”

He had gotten fat later on.

“There is this dream I’ve been having. It’s nothing special, but it’s special in that way. There is a small house in the mountains that has my name on it. It’s a small wooden house near a lake. There are some trees, some plants and there’s a small waterhole nearby. I spend my days farming, making some music, staring at the sunset as I drink a cup of tea. Of course I’ll have a dog who keeps me company. I’d go on long walks in the surrounding nature and I’d pluck some flowers along the way. I’d collect them and keep them healthy until the next time my granddaughter comes to visit. She’d like them, I’m sure. That’s the life.”

I never went to visit. Should I have? When I found these notes I had started liking him more. Funny, since I had never known him well. I started reading and I kept reading. Before I realised it was morning. That’s when I found it. There was a picture of me. I hardly recognised myself as there were few baby pictures of me. In the picture a younger version of him was holding me. Grandma was right next to him. He tried to look in the camera, but he was clearly focused on me. His hands were wrapped around me as he tried to hold me steady. The wrinkles around his eyes were less deep, but he looked tired. The thing that struck me was his smile. I had never seen him smile. We never hugged. We were never close. Still, in this picture he held me so tight and his eyes. It looked like love. I have seen love in other eyes and this is what it looked like. It really made me wonder. If he had smiled like this at one time, if he had loved like this, where had it gone? Why was it gone? Why do I remember a distant man with little love, while here I saw someone who cared?

There was a note on the back of a picture. It was actually a letter. To me.

“Dear Emma,

One day, I promise. One day when you can walk and talk, we’ll walk and we’ll talk together. I’ll give you a bunch of flowers, and you’ll love to see their colours. I’ll give you a flower for every year. We’ll walk together in the forest. We can build a tree house together. We’ll talk about everything, you can tell me everything! One day, I promise, we’ll be best friends. You’re going to get a little sister, I just know it. We’ll run and play and have fun, just the three of us. I’ll get a dog and you can name him. Dear Emma please grow up quickly, because I am getting old. Please grow up before my legs won’t run and my hands won’t draw. As you grow up, know that I love you. Seize the day, live, laugh, love! If I’m not there, still know I love you. I will always love you. A flower for every year that I still love you.” 

I cried. Not because he broke his promise. Not because I never knew him. Not because he seemed to never care. I cried because he cared. He cared at one point in time, and that was enough. I don’t know why that matters, since the lost time cannot be gained. My tears were not of regret, knowing what I had lost. My tears were those of joy, realising what always been there. That moment of caring, that moment of love was worth more than all the years not knowing.

I continued cleaning. I found 27 flowers, dried up in a book. I stopped crying and I started smiling.

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If life is a circle

cicle

If life is a circle, we should keep walking on.

If we meet at the start and if we said our goodbyes,

If we keep walking ahead as our ways spread out more,

If we notice what happens, that life will go on.

At that point we’ll persist, we’ll keep walking, we’ll keep pushing on.

We’ll be walking so long that we lose sight of what’s real and what seems like a dream.

But as we are living,

Good times and bad times,

Laughing and crying,

Our ways will come closer and closer each day.

When we meet in the middle, can we hit ‘pause’ on our lives?

Can we stop walking, can we stand still?

Just for a little bit?

Let’s take a minute to recharge before we continue,

Before we spread out to come closer again.

‘Cause if life is a circle, whether it’s short or it’s long,

We’ll keep meeting in the middle, if we keep walking on.

______________________________________________________________________

Just a little bit straight from the heart 🙂 

Welcome to Ghana

So now there’s a whole bunch of new volunteers in the house. It’s basically me and Elin that have been here since for very long, then two volunteers that have been here for kinda long and after that there’s a lot of people that have been here for a few days. On one hand I feel like I’ve had the whole crowded house, no free beds and no empty rooms experience now and I’d like a little bit of peace and quiet for now. Every time I walk into a room there are people there talking to each other, being social etc. While I really just want to sit next to each other and be quiet while appreciating each other’s company. That’s just how I am sometimes.

But on the other hand (that’s me seeing the positive side in everything) it is really good to have so many new people around. First of all it’s pretty cool that I get to show the new volunteers around. and really welcome them to the country and the project. Give them the whole I love Ghana talk and get them excited for everything here. If you meet someone that’s enthusiastic about something, you might be enthusiastic too. I’m so confident finding my way around now in Ghana that it really completely feels like home to me. Showing volunteers around Ghana feels like showing them my home. My country. Telling them about the little things they have to experience and that even though coming to Africa by your self is a big and scary thing in the beginning that they’re gonna have an amazing, fun, life changing experience. I love telling them about the way the kids stole my heart and the way I feel when I make a kid smile. I have to tell them that even though we have lights off multiple times a week, it made me appreciate light on so much more. I appreciate running water, a roof over my head and three meals a day so much more. I love saying that even though some projects have their downsides, it gives us the opportunity to suggest improvements and make changes. I love how these suggestions are so highly appreciated and actually put in to practise. The leader of Dream Africa, Jamal, is probably one of the kindest and selfless persons I have ever had the privilege to meet. He has given his whole life, every day and every week for this organisation just because he believes it’s the right thing to do. I can’t even tell you how much I admire that. That’s what I try though every time I talk to the new volunteers and every time I realise again how much I love this country and everything I’m doing here.

Besides all this it’ll also mean that we have a lot more teachers. The kids in the schools we help really need teachers. The schools are really understaffed and some of us sometimes have to divide our time running in between three different classes and trying to get them to learn something. These kids come to school to learn. They could be selling pure water sachets or plantain on the streets, but they’re in school trying to get something that other kids don’t even have the luck to have. These kids deserve teachers and with so many volunteers we can finally manage to have enough teachers.

Finally I love it when I see how the volunteers go through their first few weeks. Going from “I don’t know anything” to “I love everything!”. Seeing how the kids respond to new people is so much fun. It’s different for every volunteer in the last few moments before they walk into the orphanage. Some are nervous to see whether the kids will like them and some are wondering whether they will like the kids. Some have no idea what’s gonna happen and some have their expectations ready. For all of them though, the moment they walk through the gate the kids come running up to them. “What’s your name? Where are you from? How long are you staying?” All of them end up loving it!

Still when almost all of the people are going on a trip for the weekend and I get to be one of the only ones in a quiet, empty house… I’m kinda excited about that as well xD The variation makes it fun 🙂

Thanks Mom

Image

I probably should have posted this when it was mother’s day, but that didn’t feel quite right to me. I don’t want to appreciate my mom only when it’s mother’s day I want to appreciate her every single day.

Being here in Ghana I’ve learnt to appreciate her more and more every day, just because I understand her better every day. I go crazy if I don’t see my kids from the orphanage at least once every two days. I don’t know how my mom is even handling me being a continent away from her for this long! And then me selfishly not contacting her too much so I don’t get too homesick.

But there’s more to it than seeing the kids as much as I can. Every time I see them I have to give them an overload of hugs and kisses. I have to tell them how much I love them at least 3 times before I leave. They might think it’s too much, but for me it’s so important that these kids know that they’re not just a little part of my life. They are my life. They have to know how much I love and appreciate them. They have to know that I would do everything to keep them safe and happy. That’s also another part. A while ago one of the kids got sick. More kids get sick, it happens. So many kids here had malaria and typhoid multiple times. No worries, it’s no big deal. We buy some pills, they get better. This was different though. It wasn’t malaria, it wasn’t typhoid. Something that could actually be dangerous. Words cannot express how worried I was. I slept awful, I was tossing and turning. I couldn’t go to the hospital because my feet hurt too much. My kid was feeling bad and I wasn’t there for her. I am not ready to have anything happen to any of these children. If anything happens I don’t know how I would continue. Is this how my mom felt when I was sick? Was this how she felt when I had a fever, or a big cut from being too clumsy? Was she sitting next to my bed, biting her lips to hide her tears so that I thought it was going to be fine? Wow.

And then there are the rules. We went to the beach with the kids. Two kids run off to the sea without getting permission. No. No. No. I get angry at them, because they want to have a little fun. Harmless right? There are so many people at the beach. We take them there because it’s fun, but the moment we take them they are our responsibility. Why on earth am I being so strict with the kids even though I’m only a volunteer staying for a short time? Because I love these kids so much that I have no choice but to be a little strict dome times. When I ran off somewhere, is that how my mom felt? When I wanted to stay away from home way after dark, was she laying awake being worried? Wow.

On mother’s day I went to the orphanage and all the kids ran up to me as usual. “Happy mother’s day!” I almost cried. Orphans. They come up to me, a person they’ve known for a few months and they say happy mother’s day. Even though I didn’t raise them or that I’ve only know them for short. For me, I feel like their mother. They’re My children. They’ll always be my kids. I never knew that I could love this much. Being a ‘mom’ tot them is so much more than just the name ‘mom’. Being a mom means hugging, loving, caring, worrying, being angry, being happy, being strict, being loving, being so so much more than a friend or a sister. Being a mom means giving your heart away. If I feel this way about kids I’ve known for a few months, how much more does my mom love me after raising me for 19 years. Wow, thanks mom. You’re amazing. Not just on mother’s day, not just today but for the past 19 years of my life and for the past 48 years of your life, you are truly amazing. 

The greatest of them is Love!

I’m learning so much about myself and about others here. The thing about living in this house is that there are new volunteers coming all the time and that everyone is different. I’m meeting people that are worlds apart in every sense and we came all the way to meet up in Ghana to help make the world a better place. It’s really making me realise that it doesn’t matter who you are or where you’re from, everyone can get along and help out together. That’s amazing! Even though this environment is so different from what I’m used to, I feel at home and I can honestly say that I love the volunteers in this house. I love every single one of them. I love that we have different opinions and lifestyles and ways of speaking english and ways to spend our mornings.
My roommates, I’m sure I mentioned this before, they’re amazing! I feel like I can tell them anything at anytime and they’ll have my back. As much as I love Ghana, and trust me I do, sometimes there are moments when I don’t feel happy and when I just desperately need a hug from my best friend. But whenever I feel down the people here notice it and they will drop whatever they are doing just to hear me complain for a bit and I’ll do the exact same for them.
I just love them!

The same goes for the kids at school and the orphanage. When I feel down and try to hide it little Roland comes up to me asking ‘why are you sad?’ That single sentence is enough to make me feel better. I love the kids so so much. I never even knew that it was possible to love anyone or anything this much. I feel like I can’t live the rest of my life if I can’t see Nii Nii or Gabriella or Peter smile every single day or at least every few days. If there was any way to adopt a child right now I would take all three of them. I would give them the world if I could. If I feel like this, I can’t even imagine Gods love for us.

So I think of all the things that I’m learning here in Ghana, the greatest thing is that I’m learning about love. I love Ghana, I love tro tro’s, I love plantain chips, I love the holes in the road, I love bucket showers, the leaking roof, I love sitting on the roof. I love this house and the people in it and I LOVE my kids. Loving someone this much really is the best feeling in the world and I am so thankful that I get the chance to feel this way 🙂

This.

Dem little thieves <3

It is SO hard to describe the things that are going on here! I just don’t know where to start and how to write it down, which is weird since writing is a huge part of me. Even in my diary I can’t write down all the things that are going through my mind!

For now let me just introduce you guys to the kids from the orphanage that stole my heart!

Nii Nii: The First kid I got to hug in the orphanage! I just can’t get over how adorable and nice and smart this kid is! Nii Nii and I made a pinky promise together that when his hands are just as big as mine we’d meet again… I REALLY want to keep this promise  A few days ago he just ran up to me saying “I remember the promise!” Can you imagine that this almost made me cry?
Nii Nii!
Destiny: Sometimes she has quite the temper, ordering me to stand up and walk to wherever she wants me to. Of course she always remembers to say please to get what she wants xD Still, the thing she likes most is just to run up to you and sit on your lap sucking her thumb. It’s Adorable 
Destiny
Grace: She has a strong character! Sometimes she has this evil look in her face that means she’s about to be a real pain in the neck, other times she just uses up all her (and your) energy running around, jumping, climbing in trees and making you catch her when she falls xD

Peter: Oh my God. Quite a violent little man at times but honestly when you give him lots and lots of love, you will get the Same amount back! He turns in to this AMAZING kid that literally does not want you to go away ever! He sat down in front of the gate to make us stay and it ripped my heart out when I had to leave anyway >,<
Isn't that just the most adorable thing you've ever seen? <3
Junior: This kid just makes me want to take care of him. He’s so sweet I want to just hold him and hug him for ever and ever! He loves reading and colouring and I don’t know how many times I saw him rolling on the ground fighting with Peter. They are really two little brothers that love and hate each other :3
Junior
Cecilia: Such a smart little girl! I’m happy I saw the before and after of her operation  I’m happy I get to see her smile over and over again ^_^ She really loves stickers and she loves annoying me with this weird Miley Cyrus like face she keeps making xD But every time I see her she gives me a big hug and when I tell her that I love her she immediately responds by saying she loves me too 
Cecilia
Blessing: This little girl won’t back away from a good hug! I tell her how much I love her every day I can and I just love seeing the look on her face when I say that! Actually with all of them they just brighten up when I tell them that! I just want to make sure they All know that they’re absolutely AWESOME
Blessing

And then I didn’t even get to the older kids yet O.o And I still have to tell you guys about the music on the rooftop, the lack of running water, the way I celebrated Sinterklaas, the trivia night at Republic, how to clean up Ghana, plans for future projects, teaching creative arts next semester (including English writing and music and drawings :D), about my awesome roommates and… As I said, too much to describe >,< I’ll try my very best!

Home is where my God is

Time for something serious. I know I’ve mentioned it before and you can pretty much count on me to mention it again, but here it goes. I LOVE GOD. Seriously. I don’t even know how to describe this. I had this dream, for years and years and I told everyone it was Going to happen and then all of a sudden I decided to stop. Yes. It came to the point where I decided to stop my Lifelong dream. Excuses like, I’m too young. There’s no money. I can’t just go. I’m scared. Well I found out you can’t really live life without being scared at least half of the time! Life begins Outside of your comfort zone and that is one of the truest quotes I know.

So God came along asking me, Hey Sam, why aren’t you following your lifelong dream? Didn’t you promise me all those years ago that you would?
“Yeah… I know…, but I’m not ready yet! Maybe in a few years?” Nope! I Am in Ghana. God Himself sent me here and right Now is the time to do what I’ve always planned on doing. So I started reading my Bible. (With a little motivation from an awesome roommate) Something I’ve neglected more than I’d care to admit. But you know what? Another continent, another mindset! I found it makes me very peaceful! 90% of the time I spend here my thoughts are all over the place. I have this huge cloud with millions of thoughts, all crammed into this little space in my head wanting to burst out. But when I read my Bible, they get sorted out along the way and one main thing gets left behind. Love. I love Ghana, I love the children at the orphanage, the children at the fishing village, I love music, I love the sea, I love volunteering, I love music and I love making people happy. But most of all, I love God. He gave me this opportunity and I came so close to wasting it. But when this guy wants something, it happens. “Hmm, so you think you’re gonna stay at home and study? That’s cute, let’s go to the other side of the world instead ok? Oh you’re gonna go. You just don’t know it yet.” And that’s only the start of it. I know now that I actually CAN travel the world and experience different things. And now I know I can, I’m absolutely sure that I will!

I most definitely escaped routine xD


I absolutely love it here! Of course I can’t really say that Ghana feels like home to me yet. I’m like this really inconsistent person. Every few days I have huge ups and equally huge downs, and I see a new part of myself each and every day. Sometimes it’s scary as flush sometimes it’s amazing! And all of the times it most definitely is completely and totally different! But even though I’m not at “home” I am where God wants me to be, giving all the love I have to kids who need and deserve it. And when I think of it, does “home” get any better than this, right here with God by my side? I think I’m actually the freaking luckiest person in the world right now. My words and writings might still be all over the place right now but my thoughts are getting more and more straightened out. Why am I here? Because God wants me to be. For now that’s all I need to know.

(But seriously God, a small hint would be great… xD No pressure though, you do know what’s best and all…)

Last week/goodbye/me being me

Hello Blogging world!

It’s been a while 😮 But I have a very good reason! Actually my reason isn’t all that good, but somehow my mind isn’t set for writing these days. Which is good, in a way, since I don’t really have time for writing. On the other hand it’s bad because I love writing and my mind is extremely empty -_- And there’s also this thingy I want to write and I still have zero inspiration for it. Why… Why can’t I be funny on command!! D: The thing is I really want to write and even if I don’t have a perfect story in my mind or anything I Have to put something on paper or else I might explode. Yes, this is what it feels like O.O Like some creepy addiction… Ok maybe not that bad but still xD

Okay so far I probably made zero sense to average people (I’m trying to avoid the word normal, because in my friend group I am perfectly normal ò.ó) (There I go jumping from one subject to the other again. Did I mention I’m easily d… Hey look a wall! It’s white o.o) (Slightly hyper right now…) So let’s start at the beginning.

Last week was my last week of school (no pun intended… but it’s a convenient coincidence :P) So I spent the whole week doing absolutely nothing for school. My last week of relaxation until euhm… May 30th when the final exams end 😮 So all I did during the classes was laugh about how this would be my last lesson of *name of class here* in high school ever, but I didn’t actually realise that it was really the last one. Actually it’s still a bit weird in my mind, but the concept is slowly growing, and I don’t like every part of it. Don’t get me wrong, for some of the teachers I couldn’t be happier if I never saw them again in my life *those who know me know exactly who I’m talking about -_-*. But I really made some good friends here and I think I’m really gonna miss them 😦 I mean little more than a year ago I was convinced that I wouldn’t miss anyone That much, but now I’m getting more used to the constant feeling of missing people I realise that I’ll have to miss even more people now :O

I’ll miss you all 😦

Aaaanyway, back to my last week. Monday was short, I did not like my Tuesday, Wednesday was my last music lesson ever 😥 I had so much fun during those lessons! And stress, but all that aside XD. I bought some stuff for the next day, I had lots of fun making cupcakes with my mom 😀 Thursday was the big day. The last day of classes (I skipped most of them ^^’) and I brought some cupcakes for a mini party at school with some friends. They also brought something, we ate way too much that day which might have been bad because we had to be at maximum pretty-ness for the school prom that night! (I still enjoyed the food though O.o)

So that night we had our prom, or well, we say Gala. Some background info about me here. I do not like dresses. I’m probably the worst dancer in history. I do not like getting lot’s of attention. I do not wear make-up. I do not like dresses. Did I mention I can’t dance? Oh and I do not like wearing dresses! Sure they look good on Other people, but I prefer good ol’ comfortable jeans, all day, every day. But since I don’t like the centre of attention, I Had to wear a dress. Not wearing one would be like totally controversial and yeah, everyone would look -_-‘ (besides, I promised one time X years ago that I’d wear one) So yeah, I wore a dress, I bought high heeled shoes (pretty! but painful O.o), I did my own make-up (first time ever) I did my own hair (It was Not easy) and I went to the gala as pretty as possible for me xD To keep a little bit of myself I wore my mangekyo sharingan contact lenses (from kakashi) to freak some people out (subtely). And yes, I danced (I probably looked like a confused cripple, but I enjoyed laughing at myself) till my feet went all dafuq are you doing you crazy person! on me xD Everyone looked so beautiful *_* But actually I prefer going to some place with like 5 friends and hear each other talk (when we’re not laughing) more than I prefer some nightclub with beer all over the floor 😛 For me this was really once in a lifetime (maaaybe twice xD)

DSC_0080

Me, awesome as alway, Amir like a freaking Boss, Romy like a lady, Claire not a good picture but like a golden ladida girl xD

The next day was the senior prank. We (as in, lot’s of people but me) built an army style course through the school and forced all the first graders to go over it with all exam students yelling at them from all sides >:D I was way too late (only 2 hours) but it was still going on of course 😀 What I do. I walk in, I observe, I get someone to smear green stuff on my face and within 5 minutes I start yelling my lungs out at those poor kids. I had my contacts in again because I could and I yelled at them how they would be long dead in a real war… I felt authority… It was awesome! My throat still hurts a bit xD. At the end of the day a couple of friends and I started climbing between the floors over the stairs and off the poles in one of the wings throughout the school. I had fun 😀 On the way back home I managed to break my bike’s saddle in a really weird way (my bag broke before, so typical -,-) and before I left home again to go sleep over at Joshua and Emily’s place I also forgot to wipe the green stuff from my face… Yeah, people looked at me as if I were an idiot xD But I couldn’t care less ^^’

How does one person write this much about herself this often? I don’t know, maybe I just find myself really interesting? Maybe I just need a diary and post it online because I have nothing better to do with my time. Maybe because I Had to post something on my blog because writing stuff had become essential for me, like a burning passion (one of many) a need that must be satisfied. I have lots of passions, and they all feel like they’re burning within me sometimes. Not all the time though, but if I feel it I Have to do it. It really feels like a fire, but it doesn’t hurt. Well, it hurts a little bit, but it’s good pain, get it? Oh great now I sound like a masochist -_- In any case, I love writing more and more and I have decided that one day I want to write a book! I just need a little time… And encouragement… and you know… inspiration xD

The last view

The sea, that had the orange red gleam of a beautiful sunset over it, stretched out to the very edge of the human sight. The calm and peaceful waves that almost seemed to touch the sun formed a colourful image that could surpass the sensation of the greatest artwork with ease. Never had he dared to describe this feeling. Never had he even dared to dream of the inexplicable sensation that he felt right now. Not even once did he think and realise that he was but a small part of a world of unimaginable greatness. The greatness that he saw in front of him right now. A soft breeze brushed against his cheeks and playfully blew through his long, wild hair. He ignored the cold winter weather, he ignored his frozen fingertips and he ignored the strong, unpleasant smell of his unwashed clothes. He only listened to the soft noise of the sea that was flowing underneath the Golden GateBridge. The sound brought him back to a sunny day way back in his past. Together with his little sister he was playing in the water of the calm river that he loved to visit so much. With a smile on both faces his parents watched how he splashed water in the face of his sister. Everything he ever did as a young boy, he wanted to share with his beloved little sister. That river was the place where he as a tough older brother stood with his arms in his side and a wide grin on his face, staring into the distance balancing his one foot on a smooth rock and his other foot on an old shoebox that was holding his newest catch. Usually this was but a small fish or a cute little frog that had swam towards his hands as a result of pure coincidence. The little animal would soon regain its freedom in the rippling river water with the utmost care after being proudly shown to his parents. When at one day, after lots of practice, his little sister caught a fish with the size of a grown-ups thumb, he couldn’t be any more proud. “I taught her that!” He had said with a wide grin on his face. The clear river of his holidays had long been one of his most precious memories of life. It had given him the feeling of freedom and it was his very own symbol for happiness. It was a pure form of happiness, that only a child who knew nothing of the cruelties of life, could’ve experienced and the only one who he wanted to share it with was his baby sister.

With a bitter smile he stared ahead of him. If he had known by then what friendship was, if he had known what it meant to put your heart and soul in the hands of another, he would’ve protected himself from heartache. Friendship. Family. Love. The only thing is meant was fear and pain. With every part of it you give something of yourself away. Something you need to survive. A fragile thing in your soul, you lay it in the hands of an outsider that can easily damage it. ‘I didn’t know.’ He said to himself. ‘If I had known, I would have never…’ He had given the most vulnerable part of himself to his little sister. The sister that was no sister. No family, no flesh and blood. In fact, she was nothing. She had never been more than an outsider that had intruded in their family. A choice that could be undone. Yes, that’s what his parents had called her. Something that could be erased. Delete. That easily. If he had known that his love could bear those consequences, he would never have loved her the way he did. But when he knew, it was too late. When he ran towards the calm frozen river to stop it, it was too late. When he broke free from the arms of his parents to jump in the cold water and pull her lifeless body out of it with all his strength, it was too late. “She is family!” “She is black, you’re our real son.” That was their explanation. That was the reason that they had taken away the life of his best friend and his true love and with her, the most vulnerable part of his soul. Only then he realised how pain felt. Everything in his body screamed, but he couldn’t say a word. His head felt like it was about to explode and he felt his heart break with every simple little thing reminding him of her. That one day, that one minute or that one second in which she stopped breathing had given him the feeling of suffocation and breathlessness for the rest of his life. It had forever taken away the possibility for forgiveness.

The salty scent of the sea brought him back to the present, away from the thoughts he had suppressed so often. The water looked so close that he could almost taste the salty smell, yet it was far enough to think away the sounds of the every day life. The snow had changed the nature in front of him into a beautiful white painting and underneath him the wind caused peaceful soft waves. Behind him he heard the busy monotony of the city with hundreds of cars racing by in an eternal haste. The contrast between the view in front of him and the noise behind him calmed him. The realisation that the world went on in spite of everything felt good. Nothing could cause everyday life to stop even for a moment. The world kept turning, the seasons changed and life went on. He breathed in the fresh evening air and he stared ahead at the sky that was becoming more and more purple. No nothing missed her. The sister that was no sister. Only him. Soon nothing would miss him either. Everything would go away.

The cars drove by and the wind played with his hair again. The high whistle of the wind reminded him of the subtle sound of a violin. If he closed his eyes he could almost feel his hands slide along the neck of his violin and the bow fluently gliding over the over the strings. Classic music for him wasn’t only the beautiful arrangement of sounds forming perfect tension and harmony. The music of his violin brought a sweet calm taste on his lips. It felt as soft as a warm blanket that covered him during the winter times giving him the feeling safety and trust. The music gave him an indescribable feeling of addictive happiness. Slowly he lifted his arms up along his body, he moved his head towards his shoulders and he closed his eyes. His wild hairs were lifted up as he played the soft whistle of the wind on his unseen violin. Painfully slow a tear fell from the corner of his eyes. From afar people could see a young man with an overwhelming passion for music standing at the edge of his existence. He wasn’t well dressed and he looked shabby, but it was the untamed roughness of his appearance and the way he was playing the wind with his hands that made it a beautiful image. The tears on his cheeks, the treasure of a man that can only be shown at the most rare moments were seen from the outside as nothing more than a sign of his passion.

The music embraced him. It felt warm, like the arm of a friend showing him his last sign of the friendship. One last time he had hoped to experience it. If only it had been the friendship and not the love of his sister. One last time he looked at the dark red line in the air that was slowly sinking behind the horizon. Slowly he dropped himself over the edge of the bridge. With a smooth twist he turned up for one last look at the sky. A young woman looked at him with wide opened eyes. Something in her expression reminded him of his sister. His last tears were meant for that woman. In his last moments he wished he could’ve known her. He wanted to care for her and love her. His last moments were filled with regret and compassion for that stranger. Between his lips he whispered his last word. ‘Sorry.’ She couldn’t hear it. His last feelings and the friendship he had never fully experienced were engulfed by the cold waves of the sea.

 

I took some time to translate the story I wrote for a writing contest 2 years ago. The story is quite depressing, especially for a 16 year old, but I hope I conveyed the feelings in the right way 😛 This story is one that I like more in Dutch, for a change. That’s because somehow the words become much more painful in English. I like the power of the English language, but for these kinds of stories I might prefer writing in Dutch to avoid an overload ^^’

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