Treasured Memories

The gondola drifted calmly along a peaceful canal in Venice amongst the bright city lights. It was three in the morning and all the shops were abandoned. The long narrow street seemed to be caressing the boat gently, like a treasure in a young girl’s hands. The gondola continued to float, gently bobbing up and down to the rhythm of the water. Inside the boat laid a young girl, curled up, singing a slow song that her mother used to sing to her when she was sad. The ripples lapping the boat provided accompaniment to her gentle acapella. Her voice choked. Warm tears ran like a waterfall down her cheeks, mingling with the rain. Bringing her hand to her face to wipe her tears away, she held the diaries close to her heart. They were her mother’s. The pages bore the hard evidence of her mother’s heartfelt care. One contained diary entries of every day from when she existed in her mother’s womb right up to her 16th birthday filled the book. The other was full of her mother’s young university memories. Clutching these meagre possessions, she slid into a melancholy dream.

Rain had wanted a beautiful dress for her 16th birthday. Her mother wanted to give her everything she fancied, trying so hard to fulfil her wishes but having been born into a single parent family, the amount of wishes that could be fulfilled was automatically limited. Working overtime with multiple jobs during the night was normal for her in order to earn the money needed. This was no exception. Determined to purchase the dress Rain had wanted, she followed her usual routine, preparing for her night shift as a seamstress. Giving Rain a quick kiss on the forehead, she departed.

As she walked to her work, she prepared for her resignation. Upon arrival, she immediately went to work on a pile of evening gowns that needed mending. She worked through the night, garment by garment until the sun was high up in the sky, shining brightly through the windows, lighting the room with an orange hue. It was time. With her heart in her throat, she approached her manager, who was spread out on his sofa, sucking a tobacco pipe that filled the whole room with the choking smells of smoke.

“I h-have finished my w-work load today sir,” she stammered with fear. He didn't bother looking up, but acknowledged her with a nod. Reaching into the nearest drawer, he pulled out a chunky envelope and with one swift flick of his wrist, flung it at her.

***********

Rain emerged from the room wearing an ivory dress, with polka dots. Filled with the pleasure of having the dress of her dreams, she twirled in front of the mirror, studying herself in delight. She ran to her mother and embraced her dearly.

“Thank you, mother! I love you!” Rain exclaimed in happiness. Her mother returned her a faint smile and handed her a wrapped package. Bang! Her eyes went blank and scarlet blood trickled down her neck as the went limp. Rain watched in horror as a buff man threw her mother's body into the depth of the Venice canals. Blood stained the waters and time came to a standstill. In the corner of her eye, she saw a dark haired man wearing a large rimmed hat that obscured his face, took a sharp breath in, inhaling the tobacco pipe for the last time before throwing it carelessly over his shoulder. Rain's tears poured out, wetting the brown wrapping paper. She gently unravelled the package, revealing its contents.

***********

“Can I ride alone?” she asked the gondolier,  taking deep breaths, “Without you?” The gondolier kindly stepped out of and helped Rain in. Lying on her back, just past midnight, Rain looked into the night sky. It was too much for her to take in for one day. She opened the diary and began to read her mother’s past, cherishing the moments and embracing the memories that poured from the pages, eventually crying herself to sleep. Vivid flashbacks haunted her dreams.

[Note: This was originally Jacquee's idea. I do not take full credit.]

Maybe This Time

"Sally", the teacher called. I held my breath as I walked up to the raised platform where the teacher was standing, holding my maths yearly exam out in front of her. I could feel the eyes on the back of my head, silently watching, expectant and waiting. My heart was racing and I could hear the blood pulsing inside my head, pounding like a bass drum. I shakily and sat down.

I lifted the top right corner of my exam paper. 48 out of 80, 60%. My heart sank. Another borderline pass mark, another expected lecture from my overly expectant mother and possibly a harsh spanking from my short tempered father. The sounds of the classroom dimmed and the distinctive chatters of the model students faded into murmurs. I was numb. All I could think of was what was coming that afternoon: no supportive encouragements, no gentle words, nothing of that kind. Instead, I would get angry disapprovals, intimidating insults and relentless pain. Sometimes I wondered what life would be like if I had been born into a wealthy, caring family. Instead of the endless chores, spine-chilling winters and scorching summers and an empty stomach that never seems to stop protesting, would I possible have the luxuries of an air conditioned house, a fridge full of food and maids at my disposal?

The grotesque sounds of the teacher's manicured nails scratching the blackboard brought me back to reality. The intensity of the heat rose and the day wore on, pushing the temperature to just under 40 degrees, making my head feel feverish. Flies buzzed around the incandescent light bulbs.

***********

"Do you know that I work my ass off paying for your education? Is this how you repay me? With filthy results that barely pass?" I sat on a stool, focusing on the bricks of the wall in attempts to avoid eye contact. I glanced up.

"I do well in Science, dad. I often top the class. I’m just not good at maths; I don't understand numbers. My heart lies in Science; I love learning about life, the chemicals that are essential to our lives and our planet. Numbers don't make sense to me. Trust me, I really do try but I…." His hand was raised in the air, his face purple with rage. I gasped, closing my eyes, anticipating the impact of the smack.

***********

My head pulsed. My ears still rang from the impact of the blow. Feeling the cold concrete floor against my cheek, I opened my eyes, seeing my father's shoes slip out of reach of my peripheral vision. I winced as I tried to get up, a dull ache expanding inside my head. Forcing myself to ignore the pain, I urged my limbs to drag me up as a wave of dizziness hit me, slightly toppling my judgement.

I faced myself in the cracked mirror that hung on the beige wall with flakes of paint peeling off, alongside Chinese paper cuttings. I was definitely not the prettiest girl around. I examined my reflection and mentally insulted my appearance: blank eyes framed by lengthy eyelashes, a button nose, a small mouth curved in an annoyed fashion, hair pulled back in a quick messy bun. I couldn't take it anymore. Tears rolls freely down my cheeks and in a rush of fury, I stormed out of the house, slamming the door as hard as I could behind me.

"I hate you all!!!" I screamed before running out the rusted gates that bordered our run-down property. Warm tears blinded my vision. I didn't care where I was going, I just had to get away from them. Hatred filled my heart as I ran on, pushing myself to run faster, tiring my muscles and not allowing them to stop; I wanted to feel the pain.

Despite it being dusk, the afternoon heat still hung in the air. I tried to breathe, taking in lung-fulls of air but I couldn't, not with the smog that had infiltrated the skies. Slowing my pace, I walked on, taking in the polluted streets of Beijing. I collapsed under a towering willow by the river. Leaning against the thick trunk, I gazed up at the night sky, wishing I was anywhere but here, wishing I was born into another family, wishing I could live my dream of becoming a scientist, not the predetermined fate of a lawyer. I streak of light marked the black canvas and I made a wish. Maybe this time, it will really come true.