Four

Four

 Sixteen. This was an important year, a year for the boy's major examinations. Every now and then, between the months, he would still talk to this girl that he now occasionally pondered as to whether his feelings lie with her. It was the beginning of February and rumours in his class had begun spreading of how the girl was now really close to another boy in the same class, it seemed that way and perhaps the rumours were true. Nonetheless, throughout all that was going on, our little main character continued to talk to this girl, this time however, believing this rumours, chose to keep his feelings to himself. The month of May arrived and as a result of his bad second language results, he found himself at the bottom of the cohort, in the last class. At least though, he had a friend. This friend was special indeed, for he was the single personnel that was seated beside the girl. Throughout the remedial lessons, they found themselves talking to one another and at that point in time, he let him know about the possible feelings he had for this girl, and how he did not mention it for he did not know how she felt towards him and towards others.

  With months passing by we now find ourselves in the month of September, a studying session at a nearby McCafe with her and two of their other friends. He sat with her and the other two sat next to them at a table adjacent to theirs. Little did she notice how he looked at her eyes as she was focused on studying, it seemed so full of life, so genuine. Night dawned upon them as the Sun hid back to make room for the Moon and the stars. McCafe was getting crowded and thus they made their way to a nearby country club where they unpacked and got on with their studying. It was there that she introduced him a song that he'd come to love so, '' Terrified''. His friend singing in the background, she gave him a side of her earpiece and played on the music. With a earpiece in each other their ears, she didn't notice but he spent his time smiling to her. It felt, magical, something he'd never felt before. It felt new, it felt great. That night, he finally summoned up the courage to ask if she needed anyone to send her home but was rejected the offer. He went home, not thinking too much about it, a little disheartened, but still glad to have spent some nice time with her.

Three

Three

  Now fifteen, he found himself in a different class. Starting all over again seemed a little easier when fate put you in a different environment to be in. It felt new, it felt good. It didn't take very long before he met some new people he enjoyed being around, one of which was special. At a workshop the school organised, it was then he first spoke to this new girl. She was different from the rest in his class, and he knew that with the first few words they exchanged that he could tell her many things and she'd understand. She wrote his name on his shoe with a silver pen at the workshop, it made him smile. She made him smile. Before long they had soon become great friends, web-camming with one another, looking at each other with their white spectacles and smiling each time they looked each other on screen. He told her many things, of which included his feelings towards a girl from another class. This girl he had known from the age of thirteen, he thought he knew her enough. He thought. The girl had told him to wait till the end of their years in this school and perhaps she'd be his by then. However, through the third year of secondary school, they spoke less, and he spoke more to this new girl, telling her practically everything on his mind. Into the tenth month of the schooling year, the girl came back to tell him that he would have to stop waiting for her, for she was not to be his. At that point in time however, though it seemed to hurt, the boy felt less hurt than he had expected, for through all this time, another girl was the one that had kept that smile on his face. As close as he was to this girl, that day as told her through instant message about what had happened, the girl gave him this reply," I'm so sorry to hear that. You can contact me if I can help you with anything alright? ". He left his computer for a bit and went to lay on his bed. He didn't shed a tear, he didn't hide under his blanket. He stared at the ceiling, and he smiled. He felt appreciated, he felt happy that someone cared, someone who he hadn't even known that long for. He thought to himself that perhaps he had not even been looking properly, for this girl seemed like the girl of his dreams, and yet with all their conversations, he knew her heart lie somewhere else, with her newly acquainted boyfriend, a year above his. He kept mum, glad she was happy, glad that this friend he had known for less than a year and yet cared so much was pleased with her life.

  A few months passed and like his own relationship, her relationship came to an end for reasons he knew not. A new year was coming,  a messy year was waiting.

Two

Two

  Time is a wonderful friend, it accompanies you through thick and thin, and gives you a part of its own existence for you to consolidate your thoughts. Now of age fourteen, he came to appreciate what few had thought so little of, one of that of course, being time. Things had subsided since 5 years ago, and home seemed like a place brighter than its former state. Unlike his counterparts that studied in the same room as him, he felt different, as though he didn't belong. It was the month of July, over the year and a half he had slowly begun to know this girl. This girl was different from others, her heart was genuine and it touched him so. By the month of September, they had managed to get together, happy as every new couple would be. Time passed, and with each passing day something different hit him, he began to lose himself, control of his mind. He began to get easily jealous and it was not long before he began to see differences, differences in what could be fatal. Results, communication barriers, things were difficult, and got the better of him. They broke up a little later, to many of their friends' surprise, for they seemed happy. Things were different now, his thinking changed. It was like he was starting life all over again, though he would do it gladly.

One

One

  He was home. As little as it felt that way, he called it home nonetheless. At an age of nine years old, it was as though the little boy bottled up enough most kids hardly had to worry about at their age. Like every other day, using his toes to press his heels, he forcefully pulled out his shoes. From the door of his home, he had a clear view of the kitchen and as always, there she was, sitting down staring into blank space with a small cup of liquor which stench filled up his lungs from even the entrance of what he called his home. Still as stone, there she sat, not an inch of movement, not a trace. A slight squeak could be heard as he closed the door, tired of always listening to children outside screaming in a tongue incoherent to his youthful brain. The sun was ruthless, as was his body, his throat cringed tightly, starved of water. Getting water was, like most things done that year, extremely difficult. Stepping into the kitchen, she began to turn towards him, finally moving after having stayed still for the whole time since his arrival home. It was almost like she wanted him to see all this, for it appeared like each time he touched home ground, she would start everything all over again, this time was no different. Leaning back and forth, a soft thud could be heard each time she leaned back, her head hitting the cupboard behind her. There she would sit, for an hour or so, repeatedly leaning back and forth, over and over. It seemed scheduled, almost rehearsed, for each time an hour or two had passed, she would eventually stop all the banging and burst into tears. Each time this happened, the little 9 year old knew not what to do, and all he did was pull out a box of tissues and lay it by her side, occasionally sitting beside her, giving her a hug before taking his leave. His sister, although seldom home, the days she were, would be spent in her own room, like most teenagers of their time.

  He felt afraid, petrified. Once in awhile, he would think to himself if he'd done anything wrong, wrong enough to allow for him to live such a life. However, he knew, little as he was, being the only man left in his family, he plucked up any courage he had left, and tried day in day out to lead the family emotionally. Little did he know, that throughout the process of trying to keep the family emotionally stable, in the midst of it all, he had slowly begun to lose control of his own emotions. Walking about, his head would always be kept down, he was so afraid of the world outside, yet so protective of the family he had left. Separation of a family was not easy, not for someone who had lived a seemingly bliss life till then. Life was tough, life was hard, but life went on.