All Things New

The new girl in the office. That was what I am. That was the reason why whispers could be heard behind my back. The veterans in the workplace cover their mouths with their hands and talk with hushed voices whenever I was around.

The new girl in town. That's me! With even softer voices, whispers have been heard about the place I rented a mile away from the main road. The house was a little run-down. Yet I loved the porch, the porch swing and the fact that a wooded area protected the back of the humble abode.

The whispers were mainly about the woods. Indescribable creatures were said to dwell there. I haven't had the time to explore it yet. I started work just three days after I moved in. There were many boxes to be unpacked. Good thing the next day was Saturday. The office will be closed.


My back ached from sitting on the floor. I stood and stretched. Then, I went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I looked out the window and thought how inviting the forest looked. It would be great to stretch my legs, so I laced up my sneakers and tied my hair in a ponytail.

I could tell I entered the woods with the sudden change in grass density. I supposed no one comes here regularly, since there was no path. Rough and irregularly shaped rocks littered around each tall tree. I had to crane my neck and lean back my spine to glimpse the crowns of the trees. The very tops of some trees were yellow, some were brown, and some were almost black; but all the trunks were the same Aspen tree color. Weird. Shrugging, I walked on.

A couple of minutes passed before I felt a pebble hit the back of my thigh. I looked behind me and saw no one. Maybe I kicked it up while walking. I took another step and heard dried leaves crunch to my right. Panic bubbled in my chest as I picked up my pace. The other set of steps quickened, too. I ran but some random rock tripped me and my knee hit a big, rough stone. I howled in pain while clutching my leg. I felt warm blood and saw my kneecap through open flesh.

OUCH! OUCH! OUCH! OMG! OMG! OMG!

I slowly stood up and tried to take a step forward. Then, I stumbled. I was lightheaded, thus, I fell back down on the grass in a fetal position. Through my increasingly blurry vision, I could see the blood slowly oozing out of my deep, deep wound. Gradually, the red turned to white... Must be the plasma...?

How soft and inviting the grass, my last thought as I blacked out.

I am sure that I died. Is this heaven?

The sun was shining cheerfully, but it's not too hot. Above me, the sky was a charming blue. Sounds of chirping birds surrounded me. I am sure I'm still outside. Slightly, I turned my head, and I saw my new (to me!) house. I couldn't wait to lie down on my bed!

Strange. My wound didn't seem to hurt anymore. I looked down at my legs and oh! Leg. An Aspen leg. I shook what I assumed to be my head and saw leaves flutter around me. Auburn leaves, the same color as my hair.

A bird squawked and flew into the distance.

Well, this is new, I thought.

At The Corner Bookshelf

Addie stepped out of the tall building, where the workshop she attended was held. She pushed up the long sleeves of her black and cream striped top as the afternoon sun baked the city. Hurriedly, she crossed the pedestrian lane of the busy street.

Wind chimes sounded over her head as she pushed open the glass door of the corner bookstore. Relief at the blast of cold air flooded through her. On one side and covering the wall were art supplies. Shelves occupied the center and another long wall to the right, filled to the brim with books. Addie picked up a pack of colored markers, looked at the price, then walked over to the counter and paid.

When she placed her change inside her wallet and her package inside her large bag, she walked over to the books and tilted her head to read the titles. She picked up one book, looked at the cover then flipped it to see the back description. She returned it to its slot. She picked up another book, did the same, put it back and picked up another.

Flicking her wrist to check the time, Addie pouted thoughtfully and felt she should be getting home before the sun sets. But, she also felt drawn to be in the bookstore, loitering... Perhaps waiting. For what? She shrugged in answer to her own question.

There was another tinkling sound and Addie's pulse quickened. Someone she couldn't see walked into the bookstore and her heart raced. Time seemed to freeze except for a girl in the corner who sat cross legged on the floor. An assortment of notebooks was arranged in front of her and she was placing more. The sound of her beating heart in her ears was so loud that Addie was sure others could hear it too. Addie looked at the girl's face to check for confirmation, but the girl kept her gaze on the items on the floor.

Addie's head snapped back in the direction of the door. An invisible force was pulling her towards it with each measured step she took. A lifetime seemed to pass until she stood in front of the stranger with wavy black hair and rich chocolate brown eyes framed by black rim eyeglasses. A guy version of herself.

Silently, Addie inhaled. Then, she breathed out words that make absolutely no sense. "I have been waiting for you all along."

Training

A Mourning After

He awoke suddenly, panting, with sweat running down his face. It was the same dream for the past three years. It was so vivid that he had to shake his head hard. The blinding headlights, the sound of the car connecting with her body, which was crushed and sandwiched between the dilapidated fruit stand and the bloody car, flashed before his mind's eye as he stood to get a glass of water. He glanced at the calendar cum alarm clock on his nightstand. Today is her death anniversary.

He decided to shower even if it's just five in the morning. Every year since the accident, he would file for a leave from the office for the day her death anniversary falls on. Each year is the same. He would sit in front of her tombstone, praying to God and asking for permission to speak to her, if ever He has her on His side. He'd tell her stories about people he saw on the street and on his trips to the provinces. He'd describe his dream wedding to her as if they were going to be married soon. As usual, the one-way conversation ended with him asking her what he should do without her. A sudden very cold breeze blew on him, giving him goosebumps. It seemed like she was embracing him and speaking softly into his ear like she used to do. He instantly had the urge to visit places she loved, which he did not dare to go.

"One tall Caffe Latte for Mike!" He took the cup from the barista and sighed with relief as Hannah's favorite spot by the window was empty. He settled his bum on the sofa chair. Amazingly, he felt no sharp pain, just nostalgia. Is she telling him to move on? He thought that this was the first time he appreciated coffee, being alone and thoughts.
After a reunion with himself in the coffee shop, he crossed the street where his love was taken away from him. The last vision of her was beautiful: Hannah looked back at him while the fruit stand lady put her apples in a brown bag, she was smiling that angelic smile with a dimple showing, she waved at him in a childlike manner. Now all he wanted to remember were the wonderful memories and moments they had. He prayed to God to change his dreams.
Mike arrived at the park where Hannah and he used to have weekend picnics. She loved the bridge that led to the other side of the stream. He marveled at how man-made things could blend so beautifully with God's creations.
He climbed the slatted wooden steps to the peak of the bridge's arc and looked down at the steadily flowing water below. That's when he thought he was hallucinating. He saw Hannah's reflection on the water's surface and blinked thrice. It was still there! She was there! He couldn't help but stare at the girl on the bank. She looked a lot like Hannah except for her nose that was shaped a bit different. Is God telling him to love again?

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Outside, Inside

"I see people differently, literally." He shifted in his seat, "Most of them, actually. There are very few who are the same inside and outside." She hoped she could witness what he means. She looked at Alex questioningly. He smiled at her, "Would you like to know if I see another person inside of you?" Liza shook her head. It's a creepy thought. "Walk with me.", he invited.

The afternoon sun's rays bounced off a hotdog stand. A man in a dark suit was squeezing a bottle of mustard on his snack. "That guy," Alex pointed out, "you see as an ordinary customer. Yet, I see him with a translucent figure of a woman facing the other way, sadness and longing etched on her face." Liza's hair stood at attention, a shiver ran down her spine. "Why is that?", she wondered out loud. Alex crossed his arms and continued walking.

"Well," he said when they arrived at an outdoor cafe, "each person has a dream for his life, right? He has a choice whether to cultivate this dream, or not. That guy back there..." Alex pointed his thumb behind him. "Let's just say, he grew up. He has bills to pay, he has responsibilities, he has to take an 8-5 day job. It could be a boring job. He could start to resent working at that company. His creativity was not flowing. His reality now is very different from his dream. His outside does not match with his inside."

The dark descended on the sky like a gigantic blanket. Liza switched on the floor lamp beside the armchair with one hand, while holding a bowl of instant mac & cheese in the other. She sat chewing thoughtfully. Is she cultivating her dream? Is being a reporter really her dream? Does she find fulfillment in interviewing special people like Alex? Will he see another person inside of her?

CRASH! The bowl fell on the tiled floor as Liza fell asleep; pumping her fists, swaying her hips and stepping side ways to the beat of hip-hop music playing... In her dream.

Help Not Wanted

I was quietly reading a magazine when she approached me. The bride-to-be asked me to help her shop for bridesmaid dresses. I wanted to be of assistance. So, I took out my binder with notes of the shops and suppliers I visited when I got married years ago. 

We met up at the old mall. Thinking she would be alone, I was surprised to see her with a couple of girls. Shrugging, I pulled my binder from my bag and scanned the pages. I found the list of the shops and looked up to see the smiling face of the soon-to-wed poking out one of the stores. She was clutching a shiny magenta silk dress. Magenta? Was that her motif? 

Wait! That's not one of the stores on my list! I looked from the first item on the lined paper to the signages of the shops. Where was it? I called to her to come round the corner with me and look for the same name. But, with her ponytail swaying behind her and giggles floating in the air, she ducked into yet another store with the girls.

Where was that boutique? Had so much changed in seven years? Seemed like the stores I sourced before disappeared and in their places were shops I have never seen before. Do these even sell bridesmaid dresses? The whole place still looked a bit grey and dull. Certainly, no major renovations took place.

Anyway. I just wanted to help her but she didn't even give me five minutes. Feeling rejected, I rode the taxi home then plopped down on our cream-colored sofa with a huff! 

Spattering

I knew I was already married. But somehow, all that was left of that marriage was a toddler child. Everything was arranged for me and soon, I was married to another guy I barely knew. Maybe my family knew him.

My heart was pounding at the thought of lying down with a strange man that night. My little one kept distracting me, though. She was wide awake and active, climbing on top of me and rolling beside me. I felt confused.

Little did I know that I was going to be confused even further. I received a telephone call. The voice at the other end told me that this man I married had a girlfriend. She was deeply troubled and heartbroken upon learning that he married me.

I felt so weak I reached out to the wall to steady myself. Suddenly, splotches of ink appeared on the white textured surface and started to spread gradually.

"This was all a mistake!" I thought. The next three words chilled me and confirmed that my soul is as black as the splatters almost covering the wall.

"She committed suicide."