The never ending rain.

“Mom has been at the hospital for very long…” one little child said, breaking the stillness of the house. The maid glanced at the scene, and then moved on.

“It’s probably the rain keeping her back,” another child cried. She shifted from her spot, placing her book back on the shelf where it belonged.

“What if there’s something wrong?” the first said, her younger voice trembling slightly under anxiety. “What if… What if she’s sick or something? Why else would she go to the hospital?”

“Don’t assume the worst.” The not-so-much-a-child stood, and rummaged her pack, that lay on her neat, folded sheets. She pulled out a pencil case and a book. The first more-of-a-child never left the window, and watched the driveway with eyes large and concerned, palms pressed against the window pane, creating fog with her steady breath. Her sister never bothered to look back from her work. It was exasperating sharing a room with her, but she was used to her worrisome spells, and usually knew how to cope with it.

Suddenly, the screeching sound of rusty gates echoed through the empty house. The child’s eyes grew alert.

“Dad’s back!” she cried as she watched the silver car drove into the driveway. But the moment faded as her eyes darted frantically, disbelieving, before dying into dark cold brown pupils.

“See, I told you nothing was wrong,” the elder said proudly, turning to her sister to show how much smarter she was. “Mom’s perfectly fine…”

“Mom’s not with him.”

Footsteps quickened, a second set of palms pressed against the window pane, and as realization struck, the room was emptied, bedsheets creased by discarded books.



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The Siblings

Chapter 1

It was that day in school that never seemed to end. It started off with unknowingly innocent smiles, and greetings to the day and the new year. Girls in clean, white uniforms streamed into the corridors, which welcomed them grudgingly, not looking forward to its dirty floors.

I left my sister, as I turned into my class. My classmates smiled, and waved, calling my name with the girlish jingle that I seemed to have lost not long ago. I gave them a weak smile, and strewed my fatigue onto the table.

Michelle watched from across the room. She was the only one who knew, and found it best to leave me alone for the meantime. I appreciated that, as I fell into half-sleep, with dreams that haunted me, a sunken face with rippling curls…

“Jessica, you alright?”

I opened an eye, and saw a couple of people crowding around my table. Their curious eyes attempted to peer into my eyes, analyzing, investigating, like the secret would tumble out if they could stare any harder.

“Hmm… mmn?” I mumbled. I realized that I had fallen asleep, and wondered why the sun seemed brighter, and the class was walking about again. The last I had remembered was Mrs. Kwan, our teacher swaggering into the room…

“You slept right through Mrs. Kwan’s math class,” someone was kind enough to explain.

“Yeah, and she saw you, but she let you go ahead and sleep!”

“It was so weird!”

The roll of comments tumbled in. I looked over the crowd of girls, and watched as Mrs. Kwan picked up her books, and took a step out of the class. I immediately felt my cheeks grow warm, as I wiped a stray bit of drool from the corner of my mouth, got up and ran out the back door, leaving my classmates in a shocked standstill.

“Mrs. Kwan!” I said, as I ran down the empty corridors. Mrs. Kwan, the only figure in the corridors stopped in her steps as she turned and faced me. I ran, my breath shallow against my chest, and caught up with her.

“Mrs. Kwan, I’m so sorry I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to…” I started to stutter to the teacher, her fierce grandmotherly face remaining unchanged and unreadable. Yet, in a breath, she spoke.

“Jessica,” she said simply. “Its ok.”

My stumbling words stopped short, as I stared at her. At once, I caught the first sight of what was to become my most vicious hate. A simple look of pity, yet non-empathy in her eyes that seemed to say so much, and yet nothing at all, the look that seemed to say “You poor, poor little thing.”

It was so chilling under her glare, as I at once knew that she knew my secret, as did all the other teachers.

All I could do was give a simple nod, and be on my way back, thoughts swirling in my head, as I knew all so well that she was watching me walk back, with that look on her face, my loss in her head.


---------------


Its unbelievable.

Barely an hour into the day, and I was sent to the principal’s office. The air was damp that morning, the sky still waking up from its night, as like the students and the staff. I was perhaps one of the less tired. I haven’t been able to sleep properly the pass few nights.

As I walked down the corridors with the administrator, I wonder if my little sister’s in there too, waiting for me. Perhaps we would be questioned together, so perhaps it wouldn’t be too awkward. Perhaps my brother was being questioned too, at his school by his principal. He and I knew what to expect from all this – a whole lot of what we didn’t need. My little sister not so much.

I entered the school’s main office, in which I have only gone in briefly. This time, I went through the small door at the right, through a corridor surrounded by desks filled up by papers and computers half-asleep as well. Then, taking a sharp turn, I was met with a tall, grey door.

“Wait here.”

I stood outside, afraid to lean against anything, awkward in my white uniform amongst others in black and grey. The sides of the doorframe was nicked off, scuffed and apparently very old. The clock above it showed the time 5 hours ago, with the second hand stiff as the dead. The poster next to it made no sense.

“Let him that would move the world first move himself.”

It was by a person named Socrates, a name that seemed so strangely familiar, yet so foreign. He perhaps was a man of puzzles, making up sentences to prove he was smart. But I could see nothing in this line, and it made no sense. If he had moved the world, why bother moving himself? What did that mean anyway?

“Joanne, you may come in now.”

I looked back at the door, where the school administrator stood, holding the door ajar for me. Her eyes held that detestable look in her eyes, begging to say “I know all about you, I know everything about you,” though her lips refused to say anything. Trying my best to avoid her eyes, I entered the room.

My sister was definitely not in there. The small room was crammed with drawers, chests and a large desk that took up most of the space, the stuffy environment brought as much comfort as it did outside. The Vice Principal sat at her desk, a black pair of spectacles hung on her sharp nose, a chain connecting it round her neck, shining bright silver upon her black ensemble.

“Joanne, please take a seat.”

Stiffly, I turned to see two black chairs that I had not paid attention to when I walked in. Pulling one up, I sat down, sinking my straining muscles against the cushions, though my limbs remained tense, refusing to relax.

“I hope you’re doing ok this morning, with the beginning of school and all.” She pushed the bridge of her glasses up a little higher, her small eyes growing big in the thick lenses. Her cheekbones accentuated how hollow her cheeks were, which in turned seemed to enhance the curliness of the hair upon her head, that looked almost like one of those cheap wigs you get at joke stores, except without the colours.

“I’m… fine,” I answered half-truthfully.

“I… we are sorry about your loss,” she continued.

I cringed at the words. “Sorry about your loss.” There was something in me that wanted so much to shout out that she wasn’t merely a loss, wasn’t merely a word. She was much more than that, she meant so much more than a word…

But I did not.

“If there is anything that we can do to make it easier for you, please just tell your teachers, you can even come to me…”

“Liar.” The word flashed through my head.

“We know its not easy losing…”

The words, then, faded away. I entered a blank space between the office, the chair in which I sat, and the reality of the incident that had happened. I didn’t want to listen anymore, and simply shut her out. Could she have been more stupid, telling me all this?

Time passed, and my head obeyed and bobbed at the correct times, and she, ignorant of everything, let me go. Yet, I still remained in that frame of mind – numb, cold; and yet those words she said echoed in my head the rest of the day.

“…losing your mother.”

The pain inside was crying out, the numbness throbbing from outside, the tears that never came.



Written 080406