Everything stood still. The inch-thick of dust on the table has not even stirred since the late occupant of the room left. Everything remained in the state it has always been – uniform flung on the chair, bed buried under the heap of unfolded clothes, books and pens lying on the table, floor, and cabinet. That’s just the way he liked it. Or rather, the way the compromise that had reached: between his messiness and his mum’s complaints.

Oh, his mum’s complaints – that’s another thing he hated. Yes, after the countless pep talks he has been through, he fully understands what it means by “your mum loves you”, and what he understands even more is the next clause that always comes along “just in a different way”. Right, different way. It just so happens that his mum never loved him the way she loved his brothers. It just so happens that his mum never loved him the way he liked it to be. It just so happens that his mum never loved him the way his dad loved him. Well, at least he has his dad. That’s the least comfort he could have. Or rather, that’s the least comfort he could have after she had left him. At least once, he had her. But…but…well, it’s over, no buts.

Even though he knew clearly it’s over, he also knew that there’s this part in his heart that longed for her – the part which he long regarded as dead, immune, unfeeling. Yet, that photo of them on the table told tales. He kept it still; even after the numerous years that have passed…he kept it still. The photo gleamed. Or maybe it was the two characters in the photo that gleamed. They were so full of love, full of happiness, full of each other. They looked as though they could be sitting through a disaster without even knowing it, just because they have each other. Yet, those were the past. Whatever happened, no one really knew. But everyone knew, that that was the past. In fact, even he was the past now.

He was a brilliant boy. That’s what everyone said. He had no problems in anything, anything at all. He did well in sports, he scored As effortlessly, he was the hunk in school. Always surrounded with friends, always surrounded with girls, no one could understand that emptiness in the heart he was referring to. In fact, he got bashed up by his friends once, for harping on that emptiness. They told him that there’s no reason for him to feel empty, no reason for him to be sad. Then, he stopped it altogether. He stopped talking about it. He stopped talking about the emptiness. He stopped looking for the solution to the emptiness. All he did was just train more, study harder, work more. Those were his solutions.

Well, at least those were his solutions till she came along. She understood him perfectly. She always has this knack of understanding people, and he just didn’t seem that particularly tough to break down. Soon after, he was constantly seen around her, and she around him. Till one day, it just stopped altogether. Rumours were that it was her who started becoming cold to him apparently. But later on, it seems that it was him who ended it all, freezing the entire relationship. No one really knew what was going on, except her and him, maybe.

But it was all too late. She wanted to save him, she did. Years and years, she tried. But since that very incident, it just seems impossible to get into him ever again. Or maybe she didn’t try hard enough, that’s what he accuses her off. Maybe it’s true her mind has been off him, but she did and still does want him to be well. He never understood. He thought she had left him, left him for good. But no, she still wanted well for him. But he closed up, closed up towards her, closed up towards everyone. No one could understand him anymore. He returned to his world – his world of training, studying, working. And now, the fences are built even higher. He did not allow anyone into his world at all. And he slumped. Devoid, unfeeling, troubled, alone, he slumped. He fell. And he realised, no one was there to pick him up. He forgot about her. Though she promised to be always there for him, he forgot about her. She did not know what to do anymore to help him. And all she could do, was watch him fall, and fall, till she could help him no longer.

And there, she stood once again at the ever-familiar room. For once, the dust got cleared. “To preserve memories,” they said. But some things that have to be done have to be done. With tears, she wet, wiped and cleaned the whole room. That was what has to be done. She removed that thing, that memory that caused his death. Reaching out, she took the photograph, wrapped it, and hid it in his long-forsaken bag. “It has to be gone,” she said, though she knew that deep down, it would still be there. Hidden, but still there. Like a scar, that memory would never be removed, till she, and perhaps he, walks over it courageously.

(890 words)

Everything stood still. The inch-thick of dust on the table has not even stirred since the late occupant of the room left. Everything remained in the state it has always been – uniform flung on the chair, bed buried under the heap of unfolded clothes, books and pens lying on the table, floor, and cabinet. That’s just the way he liked it. Or rather, the way the compromise that had reached: between his messiness and his mum’s complaints.

Oh, his mum’s complaints – that’s another thing he hated. Yes, after the countless pep talks he has been through, he fully understands what it means by “your mum loves you”, and what he understands even more is the next clause that always comes along “just in a different way”. Right, different way. It just so happens that his mum never loved him the way she loved his brothers. It just so happens that his mum never loved him the way he liked it to be. It just so happens that his mum never loved him the way his dad loved him. Well, at least he has his dad. That’s the least comfort he could have. Or rather, that’s the least comfort he could have after she had left him. At least once, he had her. But…but…well, it’s over, no buts.

Even though he knew clearly it’s over, he also knew that there’s this part in his heart that longed for her – the part which he long regarded as dead, immune, unfeeling. Yet, that photo of them on the table told tales. He kept it still; even after the numerous years that have passed…he kept it still. The photo gleamed. Or maybe it was the two characters in the photo that gleamed. They were so full of love, full of happiness, full of each other. They looked as though they could be sitting through a disaster without even knowing it, just because they have each other. Yet, those were the past. Whatever happened, no one really knew. But everyone knew, that that was the past. In fact, even he was the past now.

He was a brilliant boy. That’s what everyone said. He had no problems in anything, anything at all. He did well in sports, he scored As effortlessly, he was the hunk in school. Always surrounded with friends, always surrounded with girls, no one could understand that emptiness in the heart he was referring to. In fact, he got bashed up by his friends once, for harping on that emptiness. They told him that there’s no reason for him to feel empty, no reason for him to be sad. Then, he stopped it altogether. He stopped talking about it. He stopped talking about the emptiness. He stopped looking for the solution to the emptiness. All he did was just train more, study harder, work more. Those were his solutions.

Well, at least those were his solutions till she came along. She understood him perfectly. She always has this knack of understanding people, and he just didn’t seem that particularly tough to break down. Soon after, he was constantly seen around her, and she around him. Till one day, it just stopped altogether. Rumours were that it was her who started becoming cold to him apparently. But later on, it seems that it was him who ended it all, freezing the entire relationship. No one really knew what was going on, except her and him, maybe.

But it was all too late. She wanted to save him, she did. Years and years, she tried. But since that very incident, it just seems impossible to get into him ever again. Or maybe she didn’t try hard enough, that’s what he accuses her off. Maybe it’s true her mind has been off him, but she did and still does want him to be well. He never understood. He thought she had left him, left him for good. But no, she still wanted well for him. But he closed up, closed up towards her, closed up towards everyone. No one could understand him anymore. He returned to his world – his world of training, studying, working. And now, the fences are built even higher. He did not allow anyone into his world at all. And he slumped. Devoid, unfeeling, troubled, alone, he slumped. He fell. And he realised, no one was there to pick him up. He forgot about her. Though she promised to be always there for him, he forgot about her. She did not know what to do anymore to help him. And all she could do, was watch him fall, and fall, till she could help him no longer.

And there, she stood once again at the ever-familiar room. For once, the dust got cleared. “To preserve memories,” they said. But some things that have to be done have to be done. With tears, she wet, wiped and cleaned the whole room. That was what has to be done. She removed that thing, that memory that caused his death. Reaching out, she took the photograph, wrapped it, and hid it in his long-forsaken bag. “It has to be gone,” she said, though she knew that deep down, it would still be there. Hidden, but still there. Like a scar, that memory would never be removed, till she, and perhaps he, walks over it courageously.

(890 words)