The Boy
You were always there, sitting at the front with you’re eyes wide open. From time to time, you brushed your hair back unconsciously, and bit your lower lip unintentionally. With every moves of yours, time slowed down to permit my soulless mind to dissect and inspect your muscles delicately. How delicious, how intriguing. With ease, you turned your arm outward, and bent your body forward, resting your head on your arm with your eyes lightly closed. How much I wish you would smile at me, how much I want you to be mine. But I know I can not have you, because you are too prized for a man like me.
A rose could tell a story. A story of us in the cold crisp night of December. You were there, standing alone in the wide open field. Looking carelessly, waiting for someone. I dared not to speak a word, or make a move, for I was afraid that I might frighten you. There I stood, holding a frosted rose with my freezing and quivering hands. I slowly blowed off the white frost, and hid it inside my thick, warming jacket. Yes, I had decided. I was finally walking toward you for once in my life time. One step at a time, I started to meander in your direction in lack of confidence. The dim light on the vast field became my angel, carefully guiding me towards you. At this moment, I was in your presence. How sacred and holy I was feeling. I stuttered out my love and confessed to you all of the most ridiculed dreams of us. As I was trying to fathom your thoughts of my utmost and dearest confessions, small white, and grey militia lightly tapped my shoulders, once again reminding me of the cold and ruthless temperature of this night of December.
I opened my heart, opened my jacket, took out the rose that I had kept warmly and carefully. The frost on the rose became small drips of water, each of it reflecting the dim lights, making the dark field less terrifying. Wait, what was that sound? They were coming. Three or four of them, forming a pact like dreadful werewolves, hunting the innocents. I quickly put forth my hands, and looked down. Too curious, I peeked. A smile pushing her rosy cheeks up, slowly revealing her white teeth, and her eyes became a line. No! She turned her head. She saw them. When she turned her head back to me, she showed no clemency and took away my love and snapped it in half. How could she? How dare her. I ran. I ran so fast that I could not bother to wipe away my tearful souls. Oh god! Please be merciful to me. I trade my soul for a wish. A wish that would bring me away from this eternal hell. I sat in the middle of the road, waiting for that compassionate light to …. Bang! I watched my deformed corpse lying there and my most precious red rubies flowing relentlessly. My rose, snapped in half, crying and weeping in the cold crisp night of December.
The Girl
You were always there, so quiet, so isolated from the others. Those disheveled hairs and clothes of yours hide away that beautiful, and stunning face of yours. Your mere existence fascinates a unique part of me. How I wish to deny it, but you are the forbidden fruit that I dare not to taste. From day to day, you and I are drenched in these mundane settings, and routines that are sickening me. Despite how dull the days were, I was always excited, because of you. Whenever we crossed each other on the hall way, I knew that you fixed your eyes on me, but I do not dare to look at your direction, for you and I are souls that went pass but do not merge together.
It all started with a young girl who yearns for her wish to come true. Everyday, the girl sits only at the corner with her friend, because they were banished by their peers. She rarely speaks a word with others, and only shares her most intimate feelings to her friend. She learnt her ways to get used to those mockery days, and slowly build a high ivory tower in her heart that could only be shared her only friend. At the last summer before high school, out of a whim, she had enough. So desperate, and so disconsolate, that she wished to become swan, and to get what she deserves. She decided to mask, and disguise herself with cosmetics and heels. With ease, she sat on top of the pyramid, and started to rule her own dynasty with no one knowing her past, except a person — the boy.
A rose could tell a story. A story of us at the cold crisp night of December. I was there alone on the field. The sky was so dark that the the dim light was the only source of lightning throughout this perimeter. I knew you were there, hiding so carelessly under the big cherry blossom tree. It wasn’t long until you dragged yourself over to me. When your words started to flow out of your mouth, with every clench of your teeth, and with every beat of your brave heart, it produced its very own vibration that only I know how to appreciate. How long I’ve waited for this moment, with you alone. As your hand slowly moves into your coat, and pulled out the rose, I cried—inside. I wished I could show my true affection to you, but I was not allowed to, and I do not dare to testify against the very own laws that I’ve set. How beautiful the rose is, gleaming under the dim light in itself very own way, creating a contrast with the ruthless breeze in the night of …. wait, they’re here. I shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be here, the rose shouldn’t be here. Run, run before they catch you, that’s the only way that I could protect you for now. Do not look back my darling, for I might be devoured by the worst creature that I’ve created inside me.
Please, forgive me.
This article was written by HC Waseda Guest Writer, Kolo Chow.