All my dreams were shattered.
All my dreams were crashed.
Nothing was like what I imagined it to be.
No.. Things shouldn't be like that.
It should be better. It should be merrier.
Why was it like that?
I imagined it to be all pretty,
like wearing a pretty, pink dress,
which has lots of pink laces and pink ribbons decorating it,
a big pink ribbon tied at the back into a nice and pretty bow.
Everything was suppose to be brilliant. Everything was suppose to be pretty.
How did it all end up like this?
Why am I wearing a torn dress? All ugly, all tattered.
It's beyond repair. The damage done to it.... such extensive damage.
Was it necessary to ruin my dress?
Was it necessary to ruin my remaining 2 years in Primary School?
Was it necessary to ruin my life in Primary 5 and Primary 6?
My years when I was 11 & 12,
was a complete horror.
It wasn't what I expected it to be.
Just like the dresses,
I imagined those years to be all pretty like the pretty pink dress with the ribbons and laces.
Yet, in reality, those years were trashed, they were being torn apart, they were being ruined.
Through and through.
Those people... they left no remains at all.
They had to tear every single bit of my pretty dress.
Into bits and pieces.
My dress, my life, was ruined and beyond repair.
I walked into my new class,
with new enthusiasm.
I was like a young girl, donned in a new dress.
All happy and excited.
Eager to know my classmates, to embrace my new class.
Only to walk out of that class, 2 years later,
all crippled, injured, bruised and hurt.
For once, I knew that in this world,
nothing was as brilliant as it seems to be.
He was still as ever, brilliant and outstanding.
He was like a rose to me,
a white rose, pure and beautiful,
growing in my heart.
Yet, its such a pity,
because with such a beautiful rose,
sharp thorns accompanied it. And how they hurt. So badly.
"Hey Vera!"
"Hmm....? Yes Cruella?"
"I heard that you like Xavier, don't you?"
"Where did you hear that from?!"
"So its true.. Well, you can dream of getting him. He'll never be yours. See that girl there? She's Melissa. Her mother and his mother have known each other for ages. Do you hear me? For ages. If anyone's to be with him, it'd be her. It would never be you. Never!"
"Yeah Vera. It'd never be you. Who are you to be with him? You're a nobody. Just a nobody. You're not worthy of him at all."
"Do you hear us? You. Are. Not. Worthy. Of. Him."
The last few words were spat into my face.
I fought hard within me, to search for something to say back.
But I couldn't.. I was renderred speechless.
From then on, I daren't go close to him.
I kept my distance from him.
I stayed away from him.
Although we were in the same class,
I felt even more distanced from him than ever before.
Silently, I noted down his actions.
Every small and minute detail of his little actions,
I was observant to them.
However small they were, they left a deep impression.
Deeply imprinted his actions were to me.
Although I spoke little to him,
being in the same class allowed me to witness a few memorable incidents of his.
Incidents which I carefully preserved and stored in memory....
During Physical Education....
"Class! We're going to do high jump today, in ready for the Annual Sports Meet. Now, get into two lines, one boy one girl. Hurry hurry!"
It was another boring day of physical education.
Everyone dragged their feet and shuffled into line.
As there was only one mat available, we had to do it by turns,
starting off with the boys.
One by one, the boys took their turn.
The good ones, jumped over the bar effortlessly.
The lucky ones, manage to stumble across the bar.
The unlucky ones, managed to get across the bar too,
but they brought the bar along with them onto the mat.
Finally, it was his turn.
He stood a few metres away. All ready and prepared. His body tensed.
Then, on the teacher's cue, he ran.
Jumped over the bar gracefully,
and landed on the mat on his 2 feet,
with his arms raised above his head in the shape of a V-sign.
The teacher stared at him with two bulging eyes,
the class was trying hard not to laugh, stiffling the laughter into giggles.
He turned around to face the class and everyone saw his beetroot-red face.
No one could control their laughter anymore.
Everyone bursted into fits of laughter.
Even he, joined in the laughter.
Thanks to him, the boring physical education lesson suddenly became interesting.
So did the ordinary school day, which became a memorable one.
For me.
During Civics Moral Education....
"XAVIER!!! SWITCH PLACES WITH MICKEY!!"
"WHY?!??!"
"Because you keep talking to Minnie!!"
"Its not my fault! She's the one who keeps talking to me!"
"Which is why I'm telling you to switch places with Mickey!!"
He grumbled, took his books and stationaries,
and swop places.
That was how he ended up sitting beside me.
For some unknown reason,
he blushed. A deep red.
While the whole class roared into laughter, I stared at him.
Whats there to blush about? I wondered.
I never got the answer to my question.
I was the only one who remembered it.
"Xavier, would you kindly come up here and help me?"
"Okay."
It was another CME lesson.
The teacher needed a student to help with her demonstration.
She picked him.
"Now, class.. This is what you should do when someone falls down. Xavier, would you act as though you're falling down?"
He straightened his torso, locked his arms to the side of his body,
he looked exactly like a soldier. All solid and hard.
Then, he simply leaned back and fell to the floor,
like a cemented statue of a soldier being pushed down onto the floor.
*BANG!*
As his body hit against the floor, it created a loud sound.
The sound was equivalent to the roar of thunder.
The teacher was utterely shocked, she stood there, stunned.
Gasps of shock ran through the class,
people leaned forward from their table,
people stood up from their chair,
everyone was trying to get a glimpse of him who was still lying on the floor.
After 5 (eternal) seconds,
the teacher finally recovered from shock.
Hurriedly, she dashed forward,
helping him up, asking if he was fine and etc.
He stood up and flashed the class his trademark grin,
through his crimson red blush.
At the sight of his blush, the class erupted into laughter.
He smiled sheepishly and walked back to his seat,
with a still red face.
Such vivid images I'm having in my head.
As I'm remembering them now,
I can see the scene being replayed right before me.
It seemed as though, the incidents are once again,
being unfolded right infront of him.
I was the audience, he was the actor on stage.
The scenes that he acted,
the moves that he made,
the actions that he did,
the sound that he produced,
I remembered till the last minute detail.
Once again, time flew.
2 years passed swiftly, even before I knew.
On the night of my graduation,
I laid in bed and tears began falling from my ears,
drenching my pillow and my sheets.
I felt silly initially, crying over my graduation,
I was not known to act in such a particular manner.
Only after awhile, did I realise that,
I was not tearing because of my graduation,
I was tearing because I might never be able to see him again.
The sadness surged through me again and brought another flow of tears.
An irony that time passes slowly when one is unhappy,
it ticked by slowly and my tears streamed down my face silently,
in such a way I fell asleep.
I cried myself to sleep.
My beautiful white rose. Stained with blood. My blood.
I can no longer sustain its growth,
so I can only slowly watch it wilt within me...
I'll remember you forever,
my bleeding white rose...
-To Be Continued-
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