fortune- noun - 1.chance as an arbitary force affecting human affairs>luck, especially good luck. 2. Large amount of money.
luck- noun -success or failire brought by chance>chance considered as a force causing success or failure
peripeteia- noun -as sudden reversal of fortune or change in circumstances.
I just realised how lucky i am. Compared to people living in war who have no rights, political voice or can be killed in any instance, i must have a very luxurious life. Compared to the hunger-starved children of third world country, i have everything anyone could ever wish for.
So why I am complaining about the small and petty, trivial things in life such as sore legs, orals, having to ride on a bus stuck in traffick or plain old boredom? Perhaps because now that i dont have difficult problems, i want to complain about something, just for the sake of complaining. That is why i think we should all complain but realise how lucky we all are.
This is a story i did a while ago, for and assignment, hope you like it. For once, its actually completed with it and satisfied by it. Its not true by the way, totally sad if it were.
Lost and Found
“Abby, can we go outside to play?” I asked, knowing fully well that mother would stop us on the way out.
“No, Jack, we shall have dinner in 10 minutes. You know the rules.” Abby replied. She was right. I did know that. ‘No play half an hour before and after dinner’ was one of the rules. Indeed, the only time Abby and I could play outside was after tea for only thirty minutes. Although mother hated it when we go outside and always tried to stop or delay us. She was convinced that our innocence must be protected and the outdoors would unveil horrible things for us to withstand. Sighing, I headed towards the library to read. I loved reading books seemingly transported me to another word, its inky breath still on my ear as I head to dinner room.
After dinner, there was a session where Mother would proceed to teach and criticize. This was not something I liked.
“I am dismayed by your calculus. Look at this! Boys are anticipated to be good at arithmetic like your father, but the genes seem to be wasted on Abigail! As for your tapestry of Buckingham Palace, heaven forbid you should get blood on it. The state of you two! You are dismissed early, for I have an appalling migraine.” And with that, she glided from the room, with distress written on her face. Abby had informed me that if enough mistakes were made, our session would end early. She was right. I always look up to Abby. Mother is too strict and Father is never around, always at the bank where he works. Sometimes, I imagined that Father cares more about money than his family.
Abby seemed feverish and clammy when I asked her if she was all right.
“I’m fine. Nothing to worry about, Jack, I’m just tired. I think I’ll go to bed early” she sighed, and trudged upstairs to her bedroom. I went to bed early too.
It was raining the next morning. Pounding wind threatened to blow apart the fragile windows.
“Abigail, get down here in two minutes, fully presentable, the village doctor is coming.” Mother was shouting, infuriated. The doctor was a horrible man, drunk most of the time, vexed easily and made a lot of mistakes. A rumor had the doctor was called to treat a peasant who had broken his arm and needed help. He had mistaken the fracture for a dislocation and treated the arm unseemly and resulted a dead man from an infection. But when the doctor examined Abby, as much as I wished he were wrong, he wasn’t.
“Abby had Spanish influenza.” The doctor paused. “The Spanish influenza has struck again.”
I lost Abby. There were no words to describe my pain. How could you describe the pain when death swipes a person from your life, tearing bonds like a razor blade to rice paper? Gone forever from this life, how could one be expected to move on like this was a minor bump in one’s life?
I couldn’t stand it here (petrified father, frenzied mother). Pushing away the chair, , I ran out of the house, rain hammering against my face, out of the lawn and into the forest, the wind swirling. Running away from my despair, troubles and the world. Running blindly into the forest, where the darkness soothed me, comforting the hysterics coming out of my mouth. I had lost Abby, reason and sense of direction. It might have been hours; I didn’t know or care for anything now. Resting on a fallen log, calming my racing heart, I was impractical. Mother and Father didn’t need to add me on to their list of troubles. I shut my eyes from the world, thinking this were a nightmare where I was trapped. A bright light pricked my eyelids, directing all thoughts to the unwanted light. Opening my eyes, I saw Abby. Yes, my Abby, pointing what probably was a way out of the endless maze of this forest. Abby walked on, beckoning me further with her. My legs followed her against my will, enchanted.
It was afternoon when I returned home. Abby disappeared when we reached the well-pruned lawn. Father, for once, had stayed home and was on the phone for what I assumed relating to Abby’s funeral. Mother was nowhere in sight. I trudged upstairs to bed, tired. I thought I was ailing
Abby’s funeral was to be held next week on Sunday. It seemed that Abby’s death was the key to unlocking the real meaning of life in Mother and Father. I acknowledged that, but I would give or do anything to get Abby back but it was impossible.
When mother realized I wasn’t myself two days after running away, she sent for the doctor immediately.
“The boy may survive, but he’ll be fighting hard for his life, and if you can try to keep the fever down, that’ll help.” The doctor said. So the choice was mine. Live or die? Choosing my parents or Abby, my sister?
It was a peculiar dream. I was somewhere - the place kept on flickering. Abby was there in my dream too.
“Don’t. There is a whole life awaiting you, Jackson. You don’t get a second chance. Our loved ones never leave us in spirit. For mother and father” she advised. I opened my mouth but no words came out. Then the truth slammed into me, knocking me figuratively aside. She was always right. Mother was softer now, less worried about her society status. Father reduced a few hours to stay at home now. Yes, life is still goes on. Fueled by this will, I refused to let death claim another person. There would be enough victims with this flu.
Realizing this, I had survived grief. I’m sure Abby will be happy seeing me not waste a life.
Death is depressing but I had found what mattered to me.
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I know, its a little corny and needs A LOT of polishing but hey, i tried!
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