my sad short story
Yo, yumi desuu~ I have my short story here. It's called Monochromatic Heart♥
Ever since mother died, life was not the same. It was like all of the happiness in my world was sucked away from me as her last heartbeat faded. Our family was ripped apart. Father went into the habit of drinking regularly. I stayed out of his way as much as possible. Later he started getting violent; he abused me and sister dearest until he lost interest. I had multiple bruises and fractures on my arms and legs. I never went to hospital though. Lucky for me, sister dearest was in medical school before mother died. My social life was also affected. I avoided my friends and became distant. I saw people worrying but they soon stopped caring.
I snapped out of my reverie when I heard the loud and annoying school bell ring. People talked and laughed enthusiastically as they filed out of the room. Slowly, I packed my things and left. Even the teachers had gone. My purple eyes scanned the corridor. I always saw strange, monster-like beings floating around everyone. I had one too, I had two actually. One was male and the other was female, their names were Kuro and Shiiro. Mother called my sight ‘a gift’. She said it made me special. Some children teased, my old friends said my eyes were unique. Most people didn’t see the things I saw. I walked off. I constantly walked home, taking the longest route possible, so that I could save father’s beatings for later. It was like a schedule; when I got home, father would beat me, sister dearest would come back from her three jobs and tend to my wounds, then I would prepare dinner for the two of us while father was at the pub, drinking his sorrows away till the earliest hours of the morning.
When mother was alive, I was the top student in my class. All of my reports said that I was ‘a bright, sensible student who is clearly going to succeed in life’. Not anymore. My grades started slipping, my teachers knew I was grieving my mother but time went on and they were more unforgiving. I saw pity in their eyes, exactly what I didn’t want.
I passed a hospital, I hated hospitals. They were too white and too clean. They looked pure and innocent but it was just a façade; they’re actually places of death. Mother died at the hospital. It was a renowned clinic too, we payed lots of money for nothing. Mother still died from cancer. Apparently there was a football-sized tumour in her brain that was unnoticed and ignored until it was too late. I scowled at the building. Doctors were overrated. I think it’s the nurses that deserve more credit. Mother always talked about how kind and overlooked they were. As for surgeons, they were murderers- mother died after she had an operation.
I strolled through the park unhurriedly. Flowers bloomed in the lovely spring air. Spring was just a season. Mother loved spring; she said it was the season of re-birth. I preferred winter. The cold, Melbourne air that pierced my skin was somewhat close to the temperature I felt all of the time. I picked up a red rose. Its thorny stem pricked my fingers. I sighed, no matter how pretty it was every rose still has its thorns. Roses are overrated too. They shouldn’t seem like a symbol of romance. Mother’s favourite flower was the cherry blossom. We planted a special cherry blossom tree, from Japan, in our backyard. Mother, sister dearest and I used to look after the tree and have picnics when father got home from work. There’s no more of that now. The tree died, not long after mother, due to the fact we abandoned it. It was forgotten and wilted to a bare stump in the earth.
I, unfortunately, arrived home. I turned my key in the key hole and shuffled into the house. I could hear father drinking and gambling again. We used to all share the computer but now its sole purpose is for gambling.
“Come here you stupid bitch!” Father shouted. I winced; father was going to beat me again. I cautiously stepped into the room he was in. Father slapped my face hard. He raised his beer bottle and swung it at me. Broken glass shattered everywhere and cut into my face. He punched and abused me until I lay writhing in agony on the floor.
“Go die in a hole.”He spat and lashed out a sting of various curse words before marching to the pub. A thought of death crossed my mind.
“Look at me, Echo. Why would you even consider such a thing?” Shiiro asked me.
“I want to join mother in wherever we go when we die,” I replied, getting up from the floor. Kuro looked at me with a look of apprehension on his face. They would probably miss me. The only people who would care would be: sister dearest, Shiiro, Kuro and nobody else. Everybody else won’t care; they would get over it anyway. Poor sister dearest, she’ll be left alone but it would be okay. Sister dearest was eighteen, which was six years older than me. She had the opportunity to leave and start fresh someplace else. Sister dearest chose what went on mother’s gravestone. It said ‘A dear mother to Alice and Echo, a beloved wife, and a missed soul. RIP’. I hoped sister dearest would write my gravestone too, she would think of something special and creative.
I contemplated how I would die. There were so many ways to commit suicide. The house wasn’t too high so I couldn’t jump off the roof. I decided I would cut and hang myself. I crawled into the kitchen and took a butcher knife and a rope. I was surprised at the items found in our house, momentarily, but I remembered what I was going to do. I needed to be quick if I wanted to die. Sister dearest would try and revive me. But I wanted the peace of death. I stood on a stool and tied the rope in a hangman’s noose. I slashed the knife at my wrist until it was sore. Blood poured out of the oped wound. I slashed the other wrist. It felt euphoric. I was finally going to die. I stepped on the stool again. I put my head into the loop I made and kicked the stool away. I choked and fell into the darkness. My life flashed before my eyes and a blinding light obstructed my view. I saw mother standing next to me. She opened her arms and embraced me. I finally felt peace.
Ever since mother died, life was not the same. It was like all of the happiness in my world was sucked away from me as her last heartbeat faded. Our family was ripped apart. Father went into the habit of drinking regularly. I stayed out of his way as much as possible. Later he started getting violent; he abused me and sister dearest until he lost interest. I had multiple bruises and fractures on my arms and legs. I never went to hospital though. Lucky for me, sister dearest was in medical school before mother died. My social life was also affected. I avoided my friends and became distant. I saw people worrying but they soon stopped caring.
I snapped out of my reverie when I heard the loud and annoying school bell ring. People talked and laughed enthusiastically as they filed out of the room. Slowly, I packed my things and left. Even the teachers had gone. My purple eyes scanned the corridor. I always saw strange, monster-like beings floating around everyone. I had one too, I had two actually. One was male and the other was female, their names were Kuro and Shiiro. Mother called my sight ‘a gift’. She said it made me special. Some children teased, my old friends said my eyes were unique. Most people didn’t see the things I saw. I walked off. I constantly walked home, taking the longest route possible, so that I could save father’s beatings for later. It was like a schedule; when I got home, father would beat me, sister dearest would come back from her three jobs and tend to my wounds, then I would prepare dinner for the two of us while father was at the pub, drinking his sorrows away till the earliest hours of the morning.
When mother was alive, I was the top student in my class. All of my reports said that I was ‘a bright, sensible student who is clearly going to succeed in life’. Not anymore. My grades started slipping, my teachers knew I was grieving my mother but time went on and they were more unforgiving. I saw pity in their eyes, exactly what I didn’t want.
I passed a hospital, I hated hospitals. They were too white and too clean. They looked pure and innocent but it was just a façade; they’re actually places of death. Mother died at the hospital. It was a renowned clinic too, we payed lots of money for nothing. Mother still died from cancer. Apparently there was a football-sized tumour in her brain that was unnoticed and ignored until it was too late. I scowled at the building. Doctors were overrated. I think it’s the nurses that deserve more credit. Mother always talked about how kind and overlooked they were. As for surgeons, they were murderers- mother died after she had an operation.
I strolled through the park unhurriedly. Flowers bloomed in the lovely spring air. Spring was just a season. Mother loved spring; she said it was the season of re-birth. I preferred winter. The cold, Melbourne air that pierced my skin was somewhat close to the temperature I felt all of the time. I picked up a red rose. Its thorny stem pricked my fingers. I sighed, no matter how pretty it was every rose still has its thorns. Roses are overrated too. They shouldn’t seem like a symbol of romance. Mother’s favourite flower was the cherry blossom. We planted a special cherry blossom tree, from Japan, in our backyard. Mother, sister dearest and I used to look after the tree and have picnics when father got home from work. There’s no more of that now. The tree died, not long after mother, due to the fact we abandoned it. It was forgotten and wilted to a bare stump in the earth.
I, unfortunately, arrived home. I turned my key in the key hole and shuffled into the house. I could hear father drinking and gambling again. We used to all share the computer but now its sole purpose is for gambling.
“Come here you stupid bitch!” Father shouted. I winced; father was going to beat me again. I cautiously stepped into the room he was in. Father slapped my face hard. He raised his beer bottle and swung it at me. Broken glass shattered everywhere and cut into my face. He punched and abused me until I lay writhing in agony on the floor.
“Go die in a hole.”He spat and lashed out a sting of various curse words before marching to the pub. A thought of death crossed my mind.
“Look at me, Echo. Why would you even consider such a thing?” Shiiro asked me.
“I want to join mother in wherever we go when we die,” I replied, getting up from the floor. Kuro looked at me with a look of apprehension on his face. They would probably miss me. The only people who would care would be: sister dearest, Shiiro, Kuro and nobody else. Everybody else won’t care; they would get over it anyway. Poor sister dearest, she’ll be left alone but it would be okay. Sister dearest was eighteen, which was six years older than me. She had the opportunity to leave and start fresh someplace else. Sister dearest chose what went on mother’s gravestone. It said ‘A dear mother to Alice and Echo, a beloved wife, and a missed soul. RIP’. I hoped sister dearest would write my gravestone too, she would think of something special and creative.
I contemplated how I would die. There were so many ways to commit suicide. The house wasn’t too high so I couldn’t jump off the roof. I decided I would cut and hang myself. I crawled into the kitchen and took a butcher knife and a rope. I was surprised at the items found in our house, momentarily, but I remembered what I was going to do. I needed to be quick if I wanted to die. Sister dearest would try and revive me. But I wanted the peace of death. I stood on a stool and tied the rope in a hangman’s noose. I slashed the knife at my wrist until it was sore. Blood poured out of the oped wound. I slashed the other wrist. It felt euphoric. I was finally going to die. I stepped on the stool again. I put my head into the loop I made and kicked the stool away. I choked and fell into the darkness. My life flashed before my eyes and a blinding light obstructed my view. I saw mother standing next to me. She opened her arms and embraced me. I finally felt peace.