by Shaine Lake
The final product was a surreal picture highlighting the beauty of bravery and remembrance. The girl staring at the walls filled with the souls of the slain warriors … and mourning their death—she was the only one who lamented on the loss of individual lives.
Most people would only honour them for what they did for the country. How many would regard them as individuals who had aspirations and worries? And realized that they wanted to live on as much as the rest of us?
Only that girl bothered to study every face and try to hold onto the lingering thoughts of those valiant fighters. It was truly a beautiful scenery.
I knew my classmates were staring at my work in stunned silence. They would further refrain from associating themselves with me. It might be for the better since I preferred to be left alone anyway. The painting represented my true feelings. I wasn’t proud of them, but I needed an outlet to express them.
After the art teacher called it a day, told us to leave the paintings on the table to dry and then went out for his tea break, everyone jostled their way to the wash area to wash their brushes. As usual, I remained seated until all were done before stumbling over to stainless steel sink. Most of the girls had left for the next lesson in our classroom.
Mandy took a hard look at me and said, “See you later.”
“Okay,” I replied with a listless voice.
She stood there for a short while and then strolled out of the art room.
Being alone and feeling the cold water running over my skin had a calming effect on me. However, the water couldn’t flush away the depression that clouded my mind. After I had gotten the paint off my art tools, I staggered to the picnic table to take a look at all the figurines made by my classmates. Almost all were painted with vibrant colours. Only mine seemed dull. Even the fresh coats of wet vanish applied in the morning failed to freshen up its appearance.
Maybe that was why it wasn’t appreciated by Mr. Simpson.
“Nobody likes a loser like you!”
I guessed Carmen was spot-on with her observations. She was supposed to be my best friend. So she couldn’t be lying about it, right? Whatever that was created by my hands would be despised by others.
Maybe I should just crush the Cinderella into pieces.
The stillness of the air in the room was punctured by a drawn-out groan from beneath the picnic table.
Startled by the loud sound that came from an unexpected place right by my feet, my hands went numb and lost grip on the cluster of brushes. I wasn’t sure if the floor was slanted, resulting in my painting tools rolling away from me and towards the space under the table. Those brushes moved in an unnatural way, like they were attracted to some kind of magnet below the furniture.
I scampered away from that table and headed for the door. When standing at the doorway, I realized that I couldn’t possibly leave my belongings scattered around. A verbal warning could be issued to me if I got found out. Bracing myself for what was to come, I whirled around to see what was hiding under the table.
There was nothing there, except for my brushes, and the groaning was no more.
It was better for me to quickly retrieve my stuff before that girl struck again.
I crept to the table, cautiously, then squatted down and moved forward to pick up my items. The deep moaning—it sounded like a person retching in a robotic, rhythmic fashion—started again, but it was from above the table instead.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed a pair of girl’s legs dangling in the air, right beside the picnic table. I couldn’t see the rest of the body from above the knees though it was obvious that she was facing me, from one look at her shoes.
I pressed my hands against my mouth as I watched those legs gently swaying back and forth. The body was tapping against the side of the flimsy table. The unholy sounds made seemed to be in sync with the movements of the body. I could feel an army of invisible creepy crawlies scuttling across my skin. Their touch was cold and sinister.
The swinging continued and was gaining momentum. With each subsequent cycle, the body was rocking more vigorously. After a while, it was banging into the table and toppling several clay artworks. A small ball-like object rolled off the table and smashed onto the cement floor. I found myself staring into those vacant eyes of my doll. Her previously beautiful facial features were disfigured by the cracks. The formerly serene expression was distorted into one filled with pain and horror. Brownish red colour—where did that come from—stained the jagged edges of the broken-off neck, just like blood adorning the severed jugular.
It was my fault. I made that wish. Why did only bad wishes come true? I was cursed. The constant rattling of the table confirmed my belief.
All of a sudden, those limbs were pulled back by an unseen force to a position where they were almost at right angle to the legs of the table.
Then the pair of legs were hurled towards me.
I sucked in a sharp breath, stood up and stumbled backwards to steer clear of them. The next moment, I heard the table crashed, followed by the cracking of more than a dozen of clay objects. All the supernatural occurrences had vanished in that instant. Those haunting were actually not so bad, as compared to facing the consequences of my actions. I had screwed up big time. My classmates were going to hate me for what I had done.
“What’s that?” There was someone in the corridor outside the art room.
Few seconds passed, and Mandy appeared at the door, accompanied by Kelly. Both of them stared at the wreaked art pieces. Shock was evident on their faces.
Mandy looked up at me. “I come to see if you’re okay …”
“What happened?” asked Kelly while striding up to me. Her tone was unmistakably harsh.
“I’m sorry. It was unintentional,” I said through quivering lips. The guilt of destroying my classmates’ hard work—it was pounding on my head, causing the tears to almost flow out.
“Then tell me what had exactly happened,” the class monitor pressed on.
How could I tell her that all were doings of a ghost? She wouldn’t believe me. Thus I didn’t say anything.
The blond planted her hands on her hips and let out a loud sigh. “Natalie, you refused to explain yourself. How do you expect me to just take your words for it? And you were acting strange just now … if there’s any problem, you can share with us. Shutting yourself off is not going to do us any good”—she pointed at the mess—“look at where it got us to.”
Her accusative attitude simply cemented my decision to disclose nothing. Everyone was going to have bad impression of me either way.
Mandy patted Kelly on the shoulder to calm her down. “I believe Natalie. We all know that she’s not that kind of person. She’s even scared of going near the exhibits, remember?”
Surprising that Mandy could catch my mumbling about the fear of accidentally breaking the artefacts displayed in the school’s mini museum, which was located in a corner of the library. But why did she talk about it as if Kelly knew also? Were they discussing about how weird I was behind my back?
After seconds of silence, Kelly held up her hands as a sign of disassociation. “Whatever. I’ll let this go. But Natalie, you really need to speak out.”
I avoided eye contact with Kelly, unwilling to respond to her advice. Mandy went to get the broom and dustpan to clear up the clay fragments. Kelly proceeded to haul the plastic table back to upright position. There was nothing I could help with. My blunders might make things worse anyway. So I just stood at the side and kept on saying, “Thanks.”
Mandy’s staunch belief in me had made me realized that she was really a good friend. I didn’t think that I could find another friend after I had fallen out with Carmen, my first and last best friend. Unlike Carmen, Mandy had actually stood up for me and never expected anything in return. I was determined to show my appreciation for the sincere friendship she had offered to me. I must do what I needed to do, no matter how difficult it was.
After everything was cleared up, the three of u
s headed back to our classroom in absolute silence. Kelly was walking ahead of us. She must be still fuming over the incident. On the way back, I was envisaging that corner girl to be standing at the same place.
I found out that she was, except that her body was tilting slightly outwards from the wall that she used to stare directly at.
Chapter 12 Hope?
For the past week, every weekday morning, I had managed to take the same bus as Anton. And the outcome was the same every time: he didn’t sit with me. I had made a promise to myself: if he ever sat with me, I would take the initiative to befriend him. It was necessary to take that first step out to fulfil what I had set out to do for Mandy. However, part of me was hoping that he wouldn’t sit with me, so I didn’t have to try. Rejection was something that was hard to swallow, even though I had experienced it umpteen times.
When the bus pulled to a stop at Anton’s bus stop, I nervously waited and threw quick glances at the staircase to see if he was among the passengers boarding the bus. The moment I spotted him, I quickly looked out of the closed window. Through the reflection on the window panel, I saw him strolling down the aisle.
Please walk pass my seat.
The boy halted when he was near my location. Then he pulled off the guitar case sling and the school bag’s strap from his right shoulder and proceeded to settle down into the seat beside me. I found it unbelievable that he would actually sit with me. For a few minutes, the grey matter in my head was swirling wildly, unable to process any information. I felt my heart, which was pumping blood at full force, being pulled up to my throat, blocking my air passageway and pressing on my vocal cords.
Did I smell alright? Did my behaviour seem normal? Any remnants of my breakfast stuck between my teeth? Did he know that I was nervous? Would he have the impression that I was a creep?
I dared not move, much less say anything. The idea of abandoning my plan crossed my mind. But as a friend, what had I done for Mandy? For my sake, she had carried the burden of withholding the truth from our classmates. I was grateful to Kelly too, but she had done the same thing because of Mandy, not me. I hardened my resolve to step out of my comfort zone.
I squeaked, “Hi.”
Anton was just staring ahead, not responding to my greeting.
Did he ignore me on purpose? One more try … and after that, I would avoid taking the same bus as him.
“Hi,” I blurted with a voice that was a few decibels higher than usual.
He turned to regard me with a seemingly puzzled expression. His bright, blue eyes, the soft dark blond hair … I found him to be better-looking up close. His name “Anton Thorne” was embroidered across the top of his shirt pocket. The heat was rushing to my cheeks. I wanted so much to look away so that he couldn’t see that I was blushing.
“I saw you once in the gymnasium …” That was like the only topic I could talk about. I couldn’t be telling him that I had been observing him for a while already, right?
“So?” His voice was smooth and calm, but I could feel the hostility in it.
I bowed down my head. “You were really good on the high bar.” I was contemplating whether to look up to check out his reactions to my words.
“When?” He sure sounded wary.
Clasping my hands, I began to rub my thumbs against each other. The frequency of the motion was getting higher as I got more nervous. “Two weeks ago.”
“Monday or Thursday?”
I found it odd that he would ask that question since my school’s gymnastics team didn’t have any practice on Monday. So the answer was obvious. “Thursday. We had practice on that day also.”
His voice and facial expressions softened as he replied, “Oh. That one was quite okay. I wasn’t in my best form. Didn’t pull off a clean execution of the flip. I neglected to keep my anchor arm straight during the half-turn swing. Made an early tap when doing the back giant.”
He was so critical of himself. Maybe that was why he could perform well in his studies, sports, and probably music too. “To a novice like me, your routine looks perfect …” Maybe “novice” was the wrong word to use in my case.
I stole a peek at him and saw that he still had that nonchalant look. Was it because he didn’t really care for compliments, or his heavy lidded eyes had brought about that impression?
“You’re a first year student, right? With more practices, you’ll learn to know what to look out for.”
When he mentioned that, I felt kind of ashamed that I didn’t tough it out. “I dropped out after the first lesson,” I confessed.
He shrugged. “Not surprising.”
I was taken aback by his brutal frankness. But then again, I wouldn’t feel comfortable if he tried to console me since it might feel strange and inappropriate, given that he had just known me. “Yeah, after that fall … it’s obvious that I’m not—”
“What fall?” He tilted his head to an angle where I could catch a glimpse of his face even though I was looking down at my hands.
“I fell off the vault on my first lesson. Everyone present knew about it.”
After a snort, he chirped, “I didn’t. Was aware that there was a commotion, but it was none of my concern.”
“Oh …” I just realized that I had let slipped the shameful bungle I had made. There was an urge to knock myself on the head.
“Anyway, your name …”
“Natalie,” I croaked.
“Anton.”
I gave a slight smile in acknowledgement despite knowing his name already.
“Natalie, you’ve to understand that gymnastics is not for everyone,” he stated with a poker face.
I nodded in dejection. “True.”
“Some of the boys in my team are not cut out for it either. They shouldn’t be wasting everyone’s time. Luckily, Jareth is handling those kids, so they won’t bother me.”
My eyeballs nearly popped out when Anton said that. He sure didn’t hold back his criticisms on his teammates. Having so many things to juggle with, he had to be focused … I guess.
Somehow, I felt a bit comforted that his harsh words weren’t specifically directed at me. “Is it the same with guitar club?”
His lips pressed into a slight frown as he shook his head. “Didn’t join that. It’s impossible for me to play in an ensemble. I don’t have the patience to deal with all the nonsense. Some are in there to impress the girls only. They’ve neither the talent nor the passion.”
Still reeling from the impact of his uncompromising comments, I gaped at the guitar case that was crammed between his knee and the back of the seat in front. “Then this?”
Placing a hand on the case that encased his instrument, he replied, “To play it during breaks, or for unplugged practices with my band.”
I wondered what kind of band he was in. I imagined him to be sitting on a lush, beautiful lawn, strumming his guitar and singing a light-hearted love song. The willow trees swayed with wind, dancing to the beautiful tune he was playing.
“But we’re disbanding soon,” he continued.
“Why …”
The melancholic-looking boy let out a soft sigh. “Guess I’m not easy to work with. Had gotten the nickname, Control Freak, from my bandmates. I just want to create music that’s as good as or surpasses that of The Engineers and Godai.…” His voice cracked when he mentioned The Engineers.
How I wished that I knew how to play an instrument so that I could help. But my skills might not be on par with his expectations. Nevertheless, the names of those bands sounded weird.
Then he added, “And they want to go into pop rock. I want to stay in alternative metal.”
I nearly shrunk away in terror when I heard that he was into demon-worshipping music. Mandy and a few other girls were always discussing about how rock and metal music were real bad influences. How was it possible for someone like Anton, who looked so normal, studious and decent, to be listening to those music based on sinister themes? He really needed a girl like Mandy to bring him out of th
e darkness.
I stared at Anton, hoping that by focusing on his face, I could banish those negative thoughts to the back of my mind. I was worried that he could sense them.
While I was expecting him to continue the topic on music, he suddenly asked, “Which club are you in?”
I didn’t expect him to ask about me. “Math—” I stumbled on my words.
Being in the Mathematics club didn’t exactly sound glamorous. If only there was one for History that I could join. Appearing to be knowledgeable always beat that nerdy image anytime.
“That’s all?”
I nodded, feeling like an unmotivated bummer who joined an ECA group that required minimum amount of commitment. “It’s the only one I’m interested in.”
The ends of his lips curled up. “That’s cool. No point wasting your time on something that you’ve no interest in.”
I seriously needed some ice cubes to cool down the heat gathering around my cheeks. I turned away to keep my face hidden from his view. “Thanks.”
Silence followed. After a few seconds, I saw through the reflection that he was taking out a large, thick paperback from his bag. Then he flipped the pages to around the middle section of the book and began to read it. I squinted my eyes to see that it was a Physics textbook for the fourth year students. Wasn’t he in his third year?
For the rest of the journey, we hardly talked to each other. I found myself appreciating that silence we had between us. There was no pressure to communicate with each other. I didn’t have to constantly mull over what was the correct thing to say. Sitting by his side was more than enough for me.
When the bus reached the bus stop before mine, I got up to get ready to alight from it.
Before I could, awkwardly, request Anton to shift a bit to let me out, he stood up to make way for me while dragging his guitar to the aisle.
