Once upon a time, a princess lived happily in her castle and was surrounded by the greatest family anyone could ever ask for. She loved to play with her little sister and read daily newspapers with her Grandpa and her Dad. She liked to talk about olden times with her Grandma and listen to her Mum’s beautiful lullaby cassettes before sleeping.
The princess was very fond of gazing at constellations all night long and learning about the solar system during the day. Everyone in her Royal School used to tease her for her unyielding curiosity about what lay beyond their beloved Earth. She also had a group of friends who always stayed with her. Everything was perfect, everyone was happy.
One day, an evil star streaked the sky of her universe, and everything dear to her vanished. Her school, her friends ran away, her little castle. Her family misted into thin air, leaving her with a gentle promise of never returning. Her world and her comforting, beautiful sky faded, and all that was left were her Mum’s cassette and herself—a pathetic, naïve, crownless princess. The little girl was now to face the world alone, and face reality.
The world she had been living in was false. It had been a mere fantasy in a peasant’s head, created while musing over her origins. It is a fantasy that looms over everyone’s heads, of something more— of a perfect world. The crown she had deemed to wear was a mere child’s dream; small fragments strewn together from her tiny grasp of the world. There was only a broken girl and a broken sky that remained: reminiscing together, hoping together, and then remembering.
I stare at the cursed night sky sorrowfully, a myriad of thoughts drifting through my mind. The already shattered sky shivers and relents beneath the ferocity of my gaze, and all that is left is its honest, uncovered truth. The coldness and darkness of the night are spotted with white, and I find it uncanny to believe that the stars, which are meant to represent harmony and peace, could live embedded in eternal obscurity; dots of light lost in a never-ending canvas of black.
I shake my head away from all the unwelcome thoughts of the night. My favourite orphanage caregiver used to remind me that I should not let myself get consumed by the darkness, that by shrugging away the bad, the good would come knocking. She was my only comfort in years of solitude, my consolation at night, the person who would wipe away my tears when I would cry for things I never had. When she died, I ran away from everything, I ran away from the orphanage. Now I lie upon a hard ground of mercilessness, under an unforgiving sky of false promises, on a lonely street. I let out a fogged breath, and let out all intrusive memories.
Sometimes I ask myself questions: why has God given me such a life? Was my soul destined to be this charred; are my scars embedded so deeply into the trenches of my being, that in my previous life I did something to anger the stars? What had I done, so terrible, that could make me deserve this cold road I call home?
A wave of emotions hit me, and I gasp under the weight of it all. A feeling of utter loneliness washes over me, drowns me, consumes me. Oh God, how does it feel like to be loved? To have an actual bed, a bed of felt, not stone? To eat delicious food every day, to laugh to the heart’s content?
A sudden blurriness clouds my vision, and nerves tie up in my throat, warning me that my deliria are about to start again. I close my eyes and try to calm myself, but my emotions are strong and overpower me and push me into my little shell of restraint.
The world swirls around me, and I squint to focus on a point to stop my head from spinning. Before I know it, I lose myself to the will of my emotions, letting them guide me in the times of instinctive self-preservation. This is who I am now.
Everything stops and I open my eyes slowly. The world is upright again. I look at the cassette clutched in my hand tightly, and it dulls the fire in my mind. I remember where I am, and the happenings of the street that I live on.
I am angry. So angry that I am utterly livid, furious with the whole universe. I feel like hitting someone and banging my head against the wall until I pass out with pain and exhaustion. At the same time, I feel like curling up in a corner and crying my bleeding heart out.
All I know is emptiness and this… rage. Rage and resentment and grief. I feel as if I cannot breathe, as if I am lost inside a void of helplessness and sorrow. I am a shipwreck on the seabed, harbouring a thousand Pandora’s boxes of pessimistic thoughts, and my hope has long flown off.
I toss a broken piece of cement away that fell near my feet a few minutes ago. The lane is deserted and quiet, but there is construction going on. They are building a new road and a blood-red pavement striped with a bright shade of yellow.
A soft giggle snags my attention and I look up in time to see an elder girl swinging a toddler around. The girl holds paper bags full of shopping materials and they fall from her shoulder with every turn she takes, but she doesn’t notice them; she doesn’t care. I smile bitterly as I see the unspoken flow of love between the two siblings, and the brother looks at his sister with absolute adoration on his face. But the girl should know better than to be out here at night all alone. Where are their parents?
As that thought goes through my head, two large figures head towards them and I stiffen. Then I shake my head— I don’t know them; I shouldn’t care. They don’t care about me. Regardless, I sit up slowly in the dingy corner that I sit in, readying myself to intervene if any sort of danger arises. Of course, I don’t worry about myself. There is no need. No one pays
me a glance, and I cut my hair long ago to take the appearance of a homeless boy instead of a girl, so I should be better off.
Suddenly, the elder girl throws her arm around these two people, one arm still holding onto a now squealing son. Relief erupts in my chest, but a bittersweet taste coats my tongue. I look away as they all speak their affections for each other, tears prickling my eyes.
I lie back down on the ground and tug my small blanket onto my shoulders to prevent the cold from seeping in. I soon fall into a chilled and restless sleep.
I am awoken suddenly in the day when a large finger urgently taps my shoulder. I turn over with squinted eyes, to see a rather ugly face of a middle-aged woman. She looks like one of the privileged sorts, and out of pure resentment and fear, I grab my dirty blanket again and shove it upon me to block her out. After a few moments, I still feel her presence.
She taps me again, harder. I sigh with annoyance and sit up to look at her square in the face. “What?”
“I need you to take your filthy stuff off this pavement immediately. My workers need to continue construction, and you are blocking and dirtying this area,” she says disgustedly. I look behind her and catch sight of a few policemen glaring back down at me. I bite my lip, wondering how I will be able to get myself out of this mess.
“Are you listening to me, boy? Get up right now, or I will have no choice but to let the cops handle you.”
I clench my teeth angrily. How dare she come here and threaten me when she couldn’t even imagine the things I have to do to survive. The next day I sit upon another road, beside the dustbins. It smells like waste and faeces and garbage. But it will have to do for now.
It will always have to do for now.