Broken Mirrors

Long Time

2010-11-13T22:57:00.001+08:00

I've been really busy with work during my National Service...

Well I've applied for Trinity Conservatoire of Music, Berklee, RCM, Peabody and NAFA...

And I've to remind myself to submit my application for Berklee and Peabody...SOON.

Either Or

2008-06-01T23:10:00.002+08:00

The year is 2010. I live down the lane, go to college, have a car, a girlfriend, and well, a normal family. Dad works in the military while Mom in the private sector. My younger sister is graduating from high school this year. Life went well until I died. Yes my death.

July 23, 2010.

It happened in a flash. I was dead. Car accident. Highway. I could hear the cries of my family, the doctor's low regretful voice, the funeral, everything. I could feel the heat burning away the layers of my skin, I wanted to yell, but I'm dead.

This must be the end. Goodbye world. I hate this.

I woke up the next morning to voice of the person who pronounced me dead.

"Good morning. It has been a few days. How are you? Looks like you've recovered pretty well. You'll all set to be discharged today."

Am I dreaming? No it feels real. The I.V. hurts when I moved my hands.

"Well, being dead must be just a horrible long dream I guess," slapping myself.

As I walked out of the hospital, something feels weird. There wasn't that many trees on the opposite side of the road, the road names were different. The world wasn't the one I was in. The streets were different. Some buildings were built during my recovery in the hospital.

Wait. I was only in the hospital for 5 days. How did this happen?

I could no longer find my way back. I hailed a taxi and told the driver my destination. Even the meter in the taxi is different.

No one was home when I got back. There was a note on the refrigerator from my mom saying that she isn't in town.

"Sister! I'm back!"

The house was as quiet as a concert hall before the orchestra stars playing anything. I went upstairs, everything was different. I don't remember having that print on the wallpaper, I don't remember having a white desk. More importantly, my sister's room is a music studio. I rushed to the phone to make a long distance call to my Mom when the phone rang.

"Hello dear boy.."

Just the person.

"Mom! Where's sister? And why do we have a music studio?"
"What are you saying? When did you have a sister? Do you like the new piano? We bought it as a present for your miraculous recovery. Do try it. I'll be home in 3 days. See you soon!"
"All right..."

Something IS wrong with the world. I don't have a sister anymore. I play the piano now. How is that possible?

I walked towards the piano and tried playing a note or two. Before I knew it, my fingers moved along the keyboard like a jazz pianist without me consciously controlling them.

Freaky.

I dialed my girlfriend's number with no avail. I checked the phone book, myspace, facebook, but she doesn't exist. Her family too. There isn't such a family.

It must be a nightmare. It must be. I went back to sleep. But everything was the same when I woke up. The same new world. My sister, my girlfriend does not exist. My car number plate is different. The current President of the country was someone else.

August 1, 2010

The day I committed suicide.

This must be a nightmare. I thought. I couldn't live in this world. Everything is impossible. I have to wake up. Then, I killed myself.

The same crying happened. But this time, I was buried in a cemetery. God knows how long I was in that coffin. Warm and moist. What wood is this. It seems rotting. Decomposers were at my skin, eating away as though I'm a large piece of fish. First the skin, then that tender meat. Slowly my perception of time was gone. How long was it. 10 years? 20 years? I'm gonna wake up. Back into my world. The world with my sister. The world in which the girl I'm going to marry exists.

I woke up the next day. In the same hospital. That beautiful face was looking at me.

"Hello sweetie. How are you feeling?"
"Brilliant. I just had one of the worst nightmares."
"Really? Tell me about that soon. Your family's here to visit."

My mom entered the room. With my sister and another young boy.

"Hello bro!"

They both said.

I turned to my mom and said, "Tell me who's the President, and what is my car plate number."

"Why do you ask such weird questions? Well.........."

Chapter Five: Solitary Valentine's

2007-02-13T12:58:00.000+08:00

This day had felt different from the outset; something had unbalanced my routine and my usual blueprint of thought. I awoke a little later than usual and glared around my room, my cage. It was a prison for my thoughts.

My alarm sounded like the cry of a mandrake, it was piercing my ears.

I ambled my way to the kitchen and was handed a chipped mug of lukewarm milk in return for reassurance that i was still present in this empty and hollow world. I regained my territorial seat at my desk near the window and blocked out all the bawls and whimpers from my surrounding and stared aimlessly out.

There were cards, gifts waiting to be given and received resting near the edge of the table. And one such gift was for her. One less of a hundred roses made, and cards written. They would never leave me to reach her.

It was over. The day repeated in my head over and over, and I couldn't escape from it if I wanted to. But I didn't want to, I didn't want to escape from it, for escaping would be forgetting and I couldn't lose the memories we created. Memories are all I have now.

They were happy memories and thoughts I know but instead it drew a tear.

I stepped back into my world.

My mind was in tumult. I need to ascertain my supposition that she is that ductile. A zephyr interrupted my thoughts; it was a constant reminder. She needn't seek my countenance for who she chuses. However it did mortify me.

And I do not endeavor to conceal it.

She was unreachable.

As my thoughts flowed, it was decided, that the gift was not to be unreceived. It would be for no one. And it would serve as a agonizing memory, for me.

Chapter Five:
Solitary Valentine's

Broken Mirrors

Post Script:
This is the fifth and last part of the first theme; Heartbroken. Keep a look out for the next one soon! Have a splendid Valentine's Day!

Chapter Four: Departure

2007-02-12T11:47:00.000+08:00

I hear footsteps muffled by the shingles, slowly coming towards me. Stop.

Somehow I knew. I always knew what would happen to me. I always knew if someone was staring or stalking me. I always knew before hand if a mishap should happen on me. I always knew.

We sat. I knew. She knew. I level my gaze to hers and her eyes found mine for a moment, time seemed to stop. There were only the existence of two minds, two hearts, but words broke them apart.

I moved my head in a curt nod as if to accept her decision and it is all I can do. Heart broken.

The sky cried.

Tears seem to flow from her eyes, mingling with the cold air. I was also running late for my next appointment. But I do not care anymore for I believe that the world has already taken the most important thing from my heart. I've got nothing more to lose.

My hands itch to touch her face, to soothe her into a dull peace for both of us. To tell her that i understand her plight and accepted her reasons. But I cannot. One moment I was closer to someone than anyone else in the world, and the next moment I've lost her. She wasn't mine anymore.

She softens her eyes and her face was that of an angel's. A small nervous smile played across her lips. It was over. It has been a long time since I heard her speak and her voice played like music through my ears:

"I'm sorry. You can hate me if you want to. I'm sorry"

She threw me one last long look, and before i know it, it was over.

The sky cried for me.

Chapter Four:
Departure

Broken Mirrors

Chapter Three: The Story of a Broken Heart; Part 3

2007-02-12T11:06:00.000+08:00

Friendship.

From an unlikely acquaintance to a friend.

Miles apart we were, destiny arranged us to meet.

Secrets shared

and close ties were born before

fate decrees that love should spark.

Why.

Friendship is forever but love is short-lived.

It's never the same after.

Best of friends we were,

best of friends not are we.

And

friendship's fading.

Where are you.

Where will you be.

Forsaken but forsake you

I nil.

Destiny.

Chapter Three
The Story of a Broken Heart, Part Three

Broken Mirrors

Chapter Two: The Story of a Broken Heart; Part 2

2007-02-12T10:15:00.000+08:00

It is such a heartbreaking statement. Why do I ask her if she still loves me when I know she nil. The silence seemed to stretch forever and I am dying to hold her close and have her eternally. But now, I hold back. It is my heart and mind holding me back and I face myself as I breathed out in a strangled sob:

I love her. But I gave up because the flame drank.

I hear her barely audible whisper and then she was gone, leaving me cold and desolate and as barren as the desert. And once again, I put on the mask, I have had to hide, I will not allow any body to look at who i really am. I am of royalty, and every one else does not deserve me. No one would know my inner self.

I need to erase that day.

The sky cried for me. But tears are not forever. My footsteps were washed away and as the rays of sunlight shone through the cracks between the clouds, I knew that it was over. Rain does not fall forever and even if Noah's Ark is built again, the light would still show the path for one.

Promises. Why are they called promises when we break them. It's nature, and no one obeys laws.

My face was filled with scorn, hatred and disgust. And I am filled with shame, for myself, and for her. I loved and promised but she broke and erase them. I take in shattered breaths, gathering all the strength I need, saw darkness and uttered a silent prayer to God.

I loved someone endlessly but I was forsaken. Intercede for her, and not allowing her to suffer the same as i did. Happiness if she deserves it and and new route for me if it's my destiny.

Amen.

For a moment, time seemed to stop. There were no words, no actions, only the existence of me, myself and I. I was alone.

And i sure am.

Chapter Two:
The story of a Broken Heart; Part Two

Broken Mirrors

Chapter One: The Story of a Broken Heart; Part 1

2007-02-11T23:15:00.000+08:00

I walk endlessly down the road, I cannot cry no more for the sorrow I feel is too profound, too deep. I look up and see the scattered clouds partially dim the littered stars, tormenting the knowledge that I could never have again the love that I had and lost. I see the crescent moon staring down at me with pity, reminding of the warm and gentle smile on the face I know I could not find in anyone anymore. I turn my face away from that harsh reality, only to be greeted by a cold breeze that seemed like a blow to my already bruised self. Shivering, I pull my jacket tighter around me, forming a barricade that would keep me from the numbing agony creeping through my entire being. And I have have to accept that destiny, that I've lost her.

Hollow. Yes, this is what I am and what I will be for the rest of my life. For I am void of the love that was in the palm of my hands and now gone. It has started to rain and as I continue my pace and with every step, I know I leave my footprints behind, only to be washed away by the showers. I shall never look back...but i know i can't. I'm deluding myself.

For each time i look at her again, her beauty astonishes me. And just looking at her only added to the throbbing pain inside me, the agony of losing the exquisite creature that was once mine. Then it all comes back to me. I can still remember that night, right here. It was here who played witness to our first kiss, that heeded to our whispers of love as we declared souls to each other. It was a night filled with promises of a lifetime together. Our promise that was sealed with the kiss of life and the cry of the wind.

I cannot find disdain or contempt in myself but only questions . . .and hope. I am hoping that she still remembers, hoping for my love, for a thousand lifetimes together. It was impossible. I bury my face in my hands, the jacket forgotten as I unconsciously loosen my grip and let it out of my hands, granting it the freedom as it flew with the wind.

A wrenched cry of tormented anguish tears from my chest as the realization strike me. An invisible barrier stands between us, keeping me paralyzed and unable to cross the small distance to get to her again.

Disappointment was written all over my face. I gave her my love and it was hers forever.

I love her. I loved her.

I need to know . . . please just tell me, I begged silently. These words would most probably never reach her in a million years.

"Will there still be a place for me in your heart? Even the smallest space will do."

And there is no denying it, the candle of my love for her still burns bright and I know it will never fade.

A flame would not live without air and die when it drinks.

Her goodbye still echoes through my heart.

Chapter One:
The Story of a Broken Heart, Part One

Broken Mirrors

Post script
I write the Broken Mirrors for Yanxuan, Gwen, Meihsin and my friends.

Broken Mirrors; ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

2007-02-10T11:31:00.000+08:00

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank Yanxuan for the kernel of the idea though the result is radically different from the original concept. The original title of this writer's blog was to be 'The Story of a Broken Heart' but it was replaced with 'Broken Mirrors' because of an actual incident which triggered my inspiration.

Do enjoy reading and pardon me for my poor English writing if there are any, comments are welcomed. Broken Mirrors is a compilation of short stories of different themes; heart-broken, misery, disappointment and despair.

Once again I thank Yanxuan and Gwen for the inspiration and my readers out there. Enjoy!

This blog was initially dedicated to my history and social studies projects and essays but I've decided to convert it into my writers' blog. Please ignore the earlier posts. Thank you.

For my old flame, and my closest friends.

Aeon Mach Chasing