Page 68 - 2021 English Magazine - Final
P. 68

Among all the nasty sayings, these two were the ones that left the deepest scar on my mind, of which
                   Merely seconds ago, my consciousness was entrapped in a realm that did not feel like home.               it will be ingrained upon for eternity. I loathed the people that lived under the same roof as me, I hated
                   The last thing that I could recall was being stuck in a gigantic, enchanted orb, in the middle of        this place. A bland, yet familiar ringtone lit up the dreadful atmosphere. Even before taking a glance at
                   nowhere. All I could hear was an incessant scream, reverberating within the orb. I wanted to             my phone, I was certain of who the caller was. It was him. His lively voice never ceased to bring me a
                   escape, but something about it kept me longing for more. Stranded, all I could do was keep               crumb of joy, a piece of vivacity, a sense of sincerity. After rummaging through my closet, I donned a plain
                   diving, and diving. Until a ray of light abruptly caressed my cheeks, and I was brought back to          tee and headed out. He was waiting across my porch in his red mustang. I hopped into his car. Without
                                                       life once again.
                                                                                                                            saying anything, we left this hellhole in a heartbeat.


                   That beam of sunlight signalled the beginning of another tedious day. It was difficult to recall the     Despite our frequent car rides, this one felt particularly strange. We have known each other since the
                                    last time I got to let my hair down in this tense household.
                                                                                                                            dawn of time, seeing him steer a car felt wrong. It was like seeing a toddler do what adults do. Perhaps it
                                                                                                                            was nostalgia manipulating what was before my eyes. We kept driving, frolicking in our seats, speaking in

                                                                                                                            languages no one else could interpret. At that moment, we did not have a worry in the world.


                                                                                                                            We pulled over on a freeway and got out of the car. There was no one, not a sign of life. I had no choice
                                                                                                                            but to follow him into the muddy field, or wherever he was going. Occasionally, he would look back to
                                                  The Orb                                                                   make sure I was fine. In his eyes was a glimmer clouded by mist. The afterglow in his gaze left me

                                                                                                                            craving for something more, I wanted to seek the truth behind it.


                                                                                                                            He slowed his pace as we reached the summit of a small hill.


                                                                                                                            There was a tree, a fig tree, I presumed. We stopped walking when we saw the multiple figs rotting on
                                                                                                                            the ground. The tree was no longer in blossom.
                                                  Benedict Koo Xiang Yu

                                                                                                                            “It was not always like this, what happened…”


                                                                                                                            The sight of the withered tree annihilated all of the already-diminishing excitement inside him. Neverthe-
                                                                                                                            less, he dug up a mooncake box and blew away the
                                                                                                                            sand on its surface. To my astonishment, there was a familiar glowing orb inside the box, identical to the
                                                                                                                            orb in my dreams.

                                   “Don’t mind him, he’s always been like this.”                                                          “You gifted me this when I was five. It had reminded you of the northern lights,” he said.



                                                                                                                            I never knew he treasured it so much, I did not remember giving him that orb to be frank. But when I
                                                                                                                            looked at the enigmatic orb, I had all the answers.
                                             “He just can’t be one of us.”
                                                                                                                            The mist in his eyes parted, revealing tenderness and innocence. The innocence inside us never
                                                                                                                            disappeared, it was simply obscured by mental mist. Retrieving the orb was just a return to love, an
                                                                                                                            embrace of our childlike selves. At that moment, we were five-year-olds again.



                                                                                                                                        Since then, I rarely dreamt about that orb. Even if I did, there were only sweet aftertastes.


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