So here we are again, with the same
topic of this essay (from Ru Yen's blog). I don't want to talk much except for reminding you guys; whatever you read, whatever you comment,
PLEASE DO NOT compare my piece and
Wern Yeen's. We both have our own styles. Enjoy (the corrected version of my
Colours)...
***
'You are my sunshine my only sunshine,
You make me happy when skies are grey,
You never know dear how much I love you,
Please don't take my sunshine away.'
Dad used to lullaby me with this song every single night when I was a small girl. I was his sunshine. His red. His orange. His yellow. His kaleidoscope of colours. His... everything!
However, I began to realize that I was no longer in cloud nine. As I grew older, Dad started to treat me differently. He started to scold me for any mistakes I had done. My world was getting duller and duller each day. My skies were turning grey and cloudy.
Sunshine? No more. No more...
I was sure everything happened for a reason. But I didn't know the reason just yet.
He could not see me anymore. Maybe he was too busy working in his office. Things got worse when Mum left me. She went with another man. One night, I heard them quarrel from my room.
'Mike, you're boring, Mike. I can't spend another meaningful minute of my life seeing you going out with that bloody swine anymore!' Mum shouted. It was obvious she was ill-humoured.
'You'd been spying on me all this while?! How dare you!' A loud slap was heard after Dad's terrifying roar.
'You terrible monster!' I heard Mum said that line softly. She was not angry anymore. She was hurt - deep within her heart's core. I cried silently in my room.
That was the very last time I heard her voice.
Dad had never cared for me ever since. Until the day I fainted in school. When I woke up, I realized that I had been warded in Columbia Asia. There I saw Dad's face scribbled with worry and remorse.
He was remorseful because he had never listened to me when I had been complaining about my throbbing head almost every day. He just asked me to sleep.
I could see a male doctor explaining my condition to him. He began to cry. A minute later, Mum came too. I was too tired to hear and see what was happening.
All I realized was an electrocardiogram was beeping rhythmically resting on my right, wires all over, drip and an oxygen mask on my face. It was serious. I knew it was time for me to go already. To meet Him.
When I finally could speak the next day, I asked Mum about my condition. She was holding my hand all night long.
'Mum, is it serious?'
'No, girly. No. Not at all,' and tears started pouring down from her eye-dams. She was lying to me.
'Charlene, the doctor...; Dad croaked, 'he said... that you are in the last stage of brain cancer. I'm sorry, dear,' and he joined my crying Mum.
'Dad, Mum, I love you,' and everything went blank. Then, I dreamt a dream. A dream where I could hear Dad singing my old favourite lullaby and I was five.
We were walking abreast, hand on hand playing around with the jolly Jinny Joes which took the form of white dandelions in reality, bright-yellow singing tulips and the smiling sun with his golden radiation. Ah... I loved it there. It was paradise.
Then, I saw a light - I knew it was time. Time to go back Home.
'Bye dada...' I waved slowly and walked into the light - one step at a time.
'No Charlene. Don't go. Stay with me! Charlene!' Before I stepped into the light, I smiled and sang the last verse of the song to Dad, finishing the song for him.
'In all my dreams you seem to leave me,
When I awake my poor heart pains,
So won't you come back and make me happy,
I'll forgive you dear, I'll take all the blame.'
I took a deep breath and went into the light. A very bright halo shone. I closed my eyes.
And my vision diffused into the black nothingness.
***
Examiner's (Mrs. Poga) comment: 43/50
'Language A. Story interesting. Beginning and end in line with the topic but the middle.....'
I am really honoured because I've never gotten an A for continuous writing before (the best was only B)! Thanks to teacher, that said, '...you've a lot of knowledge. Show it, Kim Huat...' so hmmm... I'm glad. Thanks teacher!