When I was a child, I well remember breaking a glass. I was just holding it when it slipped out of my palm like it had a mind of its own. I stared in horror and waited an eternity for the sound of shattering glass. “Ping!” My mother hurried over, mouth in a big circle. Seeing my sheepish face and the pieces of glass, she quickly put two and two together and gave me a good dressing down. “Off to bed you go!” she finished. I went down on my hands and knees and begged her to have mercy on me, but to no avail.
I dragged my feet grudgingly to my brightly-painted room, which reflected the exact opposite of what I was feeling. Slowly turning on the fan to kill time, I slumped into bed bitterly. Hearing high-pitched chatter, laughter and the light pattering of footsteps, my blood started boiling. Staring at the bright sunshine, I steamed and, exhausted, blacked out.
Hours later, the golden light had turned into blackness. Hearing a soft rustling from under the bed, I fled in terror to the other side of the bed. Creeping slowly towards the “visitor”, I peered down, only to see two green eyes blinking back at me.
The next morning, I sat in bed, blurry-eyes, wondering about who or what had come the previous night. Dua to my ignorance, I could not, for my life, figure out what he, she or it was.
Gabriel Yap (10)
S1-04
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